Page 180 of Chasing Ruin
Eventually, we’re done. There’s no skin left on their legs. Just raw, glistening muscle. Blood pooling beneath them. Dripping slowly and steadily.
Scar’s head lolls forward, breath coming in shuddering bursts. Hellfire’s not even trying to hold himself upright anymore—his body slack against the chains, eyes glassy with shock.
“Alright,” Healer says, peeling off his gloves with a quiet snap. “Another hour, Ruin. Then the paralytic wears off.”
A broken groan tears out of both of them. But neither of them dares to look down at the wreckage that’ll soon become their source of blinding pain.
“Perfect,” I murmur.
I push to my feet, slow and deliberate, pacing in front of them.
Ryder shifts in his chair, getting more comfortable.
“So, I’ve got this story, right?” I start casually, frowning like I’m genuinely bothered. “But there are… gaps.” I click my tongue. “Hate that shit.”
No response.
“Would you both help me out?”
Silence.
“Please?” I add, jutting out my lower lip in a mock pout.
Nothing.
I sigh dramatically. “Fine. I’ll start.”
I clasp my hands behind my back, pacing again. “So once upon a time—”
“You started without me?”
I freeze at Dad’s voice.
I glance over my shoulder, spotting him leaning in the doorway, arms crossed, irritation written all over his face. “Uh… sorry?”
He rolls his eyes as he steps in, his whole body vibrating with rage—which, fair.
His gaze lands on Hellfire, and his lips curl into something almost friendly. “Oh hey, Tommy.”
Hellfire jerks against his chains, a guttural sound ripping out of him. “Paul—”
Dad grins wider. “Lookin’ a little rough there, buddy.”
“C’mon, Torch,” Hound calls out lazily. “We were just getting to the good part.”
I chuckle, nodding at Dad as he strolls closer, crouching down to inspect the work on their legs.
“Not bad,” he mutters, almost approving.
I clear my throat, slipping back into it. “So yeah. Once upon a time, James Wentley—Savage—built himself a club for his girl, Sandra—”
“—who was a gold-digging, patch-chasing slut,” Dad cuts in dryly.
I nod solemnly. “Right. Important detail. Thank you.”
Ryder snorts.
I continue pacing. “Years pass, club’s thriving. But Savage?” I shake my head. “He’s neglecting his Sandra. Tsk, tsk.”
