Page 80 of Filthy Secret
I almost blow the fuck up, but I decide against it. I need to stay calm when it comes to Ryan. I’ve already let her not only get under my skin but also inside my heart, and enough is enough when it comes to that.
“Let me worry about my personal shit, King.”
“I’m not asking as your vice president. I’m asking as your brother.”
Clearing my throat, I shake my head once. “And I’m telling you, as your brother and your president, that it’s not your fucking business.”
King lifts his hands, his palms facing me in innocence. “You got it under control,” he mutters. “I won’t say another word without being asked.”
“And you won’t be asked. Wanna get rid of this bitch with me?”
King shrugs a shoulder. “I’ll go with you, but I won’t end her. That’s your vendetta.”
It sure as fuck is.
Together, the two of us make our way toward the holding room. The prospect standing guard dips his chin to us, then steps to the side. Together, King and I walk into the room, and when I’m halfway toward Ellen, I freeze.
She’s on the floor, curled into a ball, but her skin is a different color. It’s turned a blueish hue. Moving closer to her, I call out her name, but she doesn’t even flinch. I crouch down in front of her, reach out, and touch her arm. She’s cold to the touch.
Turning to look at King over my shoulder, I straighten my knees and stand. “She’s gone.”
His brows lift, his eyes widen, and he clears his throat. “What the fuck?”
“Probably having to do with her detox. She’d been on something every day from the time she turned fourteen. And as she’s gotten older, she’s gone from expensive drugs to the cheapest shit she could turn a trick for.”
“Fucking Ellen. She was fucking beautiful back in the day,” King murmurs.
“She was. But she was a fucking mess, and she tried to bring Ryan down time and time again.”
King doesn’t speak, but he does lift his hand, wrapping his fingers around my shoulder before he gently gives me a tug. We stand in silence for a moment, thinking about Ellen, about the girl she was when she walked into this clubhouse thirteen years ago.
She was here for two years before Ryan walked in after her. Always chasing her big sister in an attempt to save her. And Ellen was always manipulating Ryan in some way for her own gain.
Fuck.
Ryan was just so goddamn naive, such a fucking enabler. It pisses me off that I didn’t try to stop that shit earlier. I was so fucking selfish. My only focus aside from the club was my dick and definitely not the welfare of my woman.
“She did, but Ryan never fell to her level. Not even when she made shit decisions in an effort to save her sister,” I murmur.
And it’s the goddamn truth of it. Ryan never became Ellen, no matter how hard the bitch tried.
I think I might have fucked up, and I’m not quite sure how to fix it.
“Apologize,” King mutters.
I don’t realize I’ve said the words out loud, but I have. Turning my head, I look at him, arching a brow, my lips twitching into a smirk.
“Have you ever done that?” I ask.
He leans back on his heels, a full smile playing on his lips now. “Brother,” he begins, “I ain’t fucked up bad enough to issue a full fucking apology. You might even have to grovel.”
Fuck.
CHAPTER
THIRTY-ONE
RYAN