"When people are protecting something truly special to them, they truly can become ... as strong as they can be." — Masashi Kishimoto

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Chapter 23
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Maggie

I blew out a long stream of smoke above my head, relaxing my head against the side of the building. "Thanks." I handed it back to Vance.

"No problem," he responded around the smoke. He followed up, stepping beside me, and leaning against the mansion.

I glanced over him for the umpteenth time tonight. He was cute, I'd give him that. Brown hair with too much gel, a pretty nice body and a pair of dark blue eyes. He was super flirtatious too, so I figured he understood the impact of his looks.

After Luke ditched me, I was thrown into a tangle. Dance after dance, I never knew when the shit would end. Most of my partners were old men who were hinting that if I sucked them off in one of the bathroom stalls, they'd pay my rent for the rest of the year. The rest were just snobby rich boys who couldn't take a joke to save their lives. Soft asses.

Vance was cool, though. At my joke about the stiffness of his dancing, he had laughed, and we talked for a while. We both relished in our desire to be anywhere else, but here and eventually, it led to Vance flagging me a cigarette container. I didn't even smoke regularly , but after tonight, it might become a habit.

Vance glanced to me, cocking a brow. "Didn't you tell me that you stay in Washington?"

I nodded. "Mhm. Been there for a while."

He nodded, his lips going to the cigarette. "I live there, too. Boring as shit if you ask me." He offered the lit stick to me, again.

I chuckled, taking the cigarette from him. "What stole the appeal for you?"

"The same food, the same hang-outs, the same people," he listed off. "The same boring women." His expression mirrored a dull one as he recounted his encounters.

I eyed him warily at that. Over my years, I'd learned many useless things but not this one:

Man who randomly bring up, and trash women were usually bitches. They flipped the script the moment the woman rejected them, usually insulting her despite being full of compliments before the rejection. More often than not, they were usually upset, and still bitching about it.

Vance didn't seem like a bitch, but then again, I hadn't even known him for an hour. I couldn't put it past him.

I guessed I showed my distaste in my expression. Vance back-tracked, flashing a sly grin at me. "But, not you, of course," he corrected. "You're not like other girls."

Another rule: guys who say you aren't like other girls? Bitches.

I averted my gaze ahead with a shrug. As soon as I finished this cigarette, I'd head back in, and away from this conversation. I could find Luke from there.

Speaking of that asshole, I was more than annoyed. How dare he leave me in the middle of a dance? I didn't even know where he went, or where he was right now.

Knowing him, probably balls deep in some girl.

Without warning, my stomach fell. The thought wasn't a pleasant one, not at all. I didn't know if it was because of disgust, or because of something else.

"So," Vance started, passing off a shoulder brush with me. "What do you say we make tonight a little better?"

I lifted a brow at him in question. He answered with a grin. He swept the left side of his jacket up, reaching inside with his empty hand to grab something. When he pulled it out, there was a silver flask in his hold.

"Rum," he offered, grinning ear to ear. "Here." He cocked the flask at me to grab it. "I don't usually share, but for you, I'll make an exception."

Rule number three and rule number four can overlap at times. They were of the same nature, but could fall under different situations.

Three: don't ever, ever accept a drink from a stranger without having them try it first. Four: don't accept drinks from strangers in general, especially men, unless you literally watch it be made from beginning to end, as well as them giving it to you.

I shook my head at him. "No, it's okay," I rejected. "I don't drink." If Raven or Kimberly were here to hear me say that, they would have fallen out in hysteria at it.

His face fell before he glanced to the flask. "You kidding?" he pondered. "I saw you down an entire tray of champagne by yourself."

I glanced at him with a raised brow at his statement. He'd been watching me?

He found his mistake in his wording, his grin falling. He shoved his flask back to its original place with a shake of the head.

"No problem," he waved it off with a small smile that I guessed he usually passed off as cute. "I can fuck just fine sober."

I snorted at that. The audacity was comical at times.

Drawing one last hit from the cigarette, I shook my head. "Not tonight, rich boy."

His gaze jumped to mine in shock. "I'm sorry?" he stammered over himself, lifting away from the wall.

I raised from the wall, as well. This conversation would be over real soon.

My shoulders fell as I looked to him. "I have a boyfriend."

His brow rose. "I know that already," he responded, still confused.

Now it was my turn to be confused. At first, I wondered how he knew about Xander, but then I realized: there was no way he could. So either he was just really good at predicting, or Beatrice had already ran around spilling about Luke and I's 'relationship.'

This shit was weird either way. I was going to listen to my gut, and get out of here before he let his ego get him hit.

I nodded at him. "Thanks for the smoke, but I better get going." I didn't even wait for an answer before I turned, and headed for the entrance.

My feet ceased at his voice. "Personally," he started, chuckling from behind me. "I think you can do better."

I didn't turn around. My eyes narrowed at the building. "Excuse me?"

I heard his feet crunch in the gravel as he approached me. "I mean...my brother's a piece of shit. An emotionless, annoying, waste of space. No offense to you, but you have to be pretty stupid to even think of being with him. All he does is fuck shit up."

It hit then, despite the beginning. He was from Washington, he knew I had a 'boyfriend' and he'd been watching me all night until I got alone.

He was Luke's brother.

I jerked around so quickly, my heel nearly snapped. "Don't talk about him like that."

Vance's expression bounced with shock at my outburst before he shook it off, his mouth in a sick grin. "Jesus. He's really got you fooled, huh? You're actually defending him."

The agitation made my skin burn. "I'm not defending him," I snapped, despite it being true. "He's not here to say anything for himself, but I am."

Vance laughed, the sound yanking at my ears. "Oh, fuck. He's really got you in a hold, doesn't he?" He tsked, shaking his head as it fell. "I'll let you in on something, though, sweetheart."

He stepped closer, and closer until we were mere inches apart. I didn't make a move from my spot, glaring up into his eyes.

He offered a small smile, his head tilting down at me. "My brother is nothing. He never will be anything, except a fucking waste of trash. A waste of money, and drama. He was unlovable from the moment he came into this world—"

My temper jumped at his words. "So what? You're mad because your daddy hated your mother's wasted pussy so much, that he went, and fucked another?"

His gaze darkened, his nostrils flaring. I saw his neck bob, but I didn't dare move my eyes from his. "Is that what he told you?"

My smile stretched wide. "I'm going off facts," I threw back. "You and your perfect family are all little bitches. Your pussy of a dad was so bored of your mom and you, that he went out and had another son just to try and actually get a good one this time. You should consider yourself lucky to even have Luke."

I didn't know where this was coming from, but something about hearing someone else talk shit about Luke other than myself fueled at my rage in a way I'd never experienced. Especially this asshole in front of me.

"Lucky?" he repeated with a scoff. His eyes raked over me with shock. "He's a bastard. A stupid one, at that. He bought a building with his dead mother's savings she gave him, and the idiot probably thinks he's going to make a difference with it." His chuckle had my stomach turning. "When we all know he won't. He messes up every fucking thing, and every fucking body, and never takes any responsibility for it. And he wonders why our father punishes him."

My fists tightened into balls at his words against Luke. They weren't even directed at me personally, but the moment he said them, I felt them slam into me with the same malice. He was wrong, he was so wrong.

"Punishes?" I exclaimed with disgust. "He's a pussy who beats his own fucking kid. And, you aren't any better from what I can tell. Luke's more of a man than you two will ever be, combined."

Laughter bounced from his chest. "Shit, he's got you so looped up." Vance shook his head at me with a sigh. "You, pretty girl," he drawled, grinning. I smacked his hand away as it went for my own. "Are an idiot if you think any differently. I'm sure you're a fantastic fuck, but trust me. Save yourself the trouble. The bastard's a lost cause in everything he does."

My palm was itching to smack him into hells gates. "Shut the fuck up," I hissed at him.

I was mere moments, seconds, to saying fuck it, and swinging on this prick and his outrageous claims.

"I'm just telling you the truth, baby," he insisted, practically cooing at me. "I'd be worth your time. But, him—"

That familiar anger was hitting so hard, it was making my vision blur. "I'm warning you to back the fuck away from me," I managed to force out.

Whenever I'd get in trouble, I always said that I gave off warnings, beforehand. They were simply ignored, and consequences were given because of it. I couldn't help that.

I was doing that, now. I could hear Jax in my ear, willing, begging for me to walk off, to be the bigger person. I was trying so fucking hard to listen, but it was all going out the window the longer this walking waste of sperm talked.

I wasn't only trying to calm down for me, but for Luke, too. If I hit his brother, it would probably get back to his father, and he would be the one to pay for it. I wanted anything, but that.

Vances' lips hovered into a disgusting grin. He resembled a rabid dog baring it's teeth. "I know the truth can be disheartening, baby, but you'll have to accept it sooner than later. Might as well start now."

"Accept what?" I snapped, narrowing my eyes at him. "That you're so delusional, and so fixated on him that you have to build off of lies instead of facing that your father stepped out on his marriage?"

The anger was building quite well behind his calm expression, but he was holding it in well. Much better than me, that was for sure.

Be the bigger person. Be the bigger person. Be the bigger person.

I rehearsed over my brother's imaginary encouragement until the words were embedded. Barely, but enough to hold that little sense I did have to get out of here.

I turned on my heel, willing myself to stay put. I tried to add the breathing exercise Jax taught me to the mix, as well. My fists tightened until the nails dig into my skin as I advanced toward the entrance.

"No," I heard Vance say from behind me with a deceptively collected tone. "That Luke, is simply better off dead. It's not like anyone would care, or miss him, anyway." A chuckle followed. "I think a graveyard would be too good for him. Perhaps a trash site."

My steps ceased altogether at that. I squeezed my eyes shut, but when they opened, all I saw was fucking red.

Fuck being the bigger person.

I let that saying lead my next actions.I pulled my heels off, knocking them elsewhere. I jerked around, letting the rage build with each step I took.

"What?" Vance taunted with a smirk. "Did I pop your bubble, princess? It's okay, I'll—" Before he could even gloss over his next set of words, I launched my knee into his crotch.

A curse sprung from his lips as he crumbled. under the pain. His body scrunched into a ball, his hands gripping at his crotch with a groan.

I offered a stale grin. "Oops," I shrugged. "Must have slipped."

He rocked himself, hissing through the pain. "You fucking—shit." His hands tightened around himself with another groan.

I rolled my eyes, turning to grab my heels. I'd leave him to relish in the pain. This would be a reminder for him to simply shut the fuck up sometimes.

I grasped my heels from the ground, shaking the rocks out of them. I could barely even mention a grip with the anger, but I managed. Once they were clear, I slid them back on, then started for the building.

Before I could make it a step further, a hand grasped me from behind.

I tried to jerk around, but his grip was too tight. Finally, he turned me to face him before he led us back to the bricked wall.

"You're a disrespectful little bitch, huh?" he hissed into my ear. Past my shoulder, his reddening face showcased that very rage he'd been trying to suppress. "I'll show you what happens to disrespectful bitches." His hand ran up the length of my thigh before he bunched my dress in a fist, attempting to yank it up. He held me until his front was pressed into my backside.

For a moment, I forgot to breathe. I forgot how to breathe. I forgot every single thing except the memories, the pain, the weight, the—

No.

I wasn't there anymore. I wasn't her anymore. I wasn't going to let it happen, ever again.

Past the fear that clogged my throat, I willed myself to be strong. To have that strength that that little girl always begged for. The one that I'd found for us in the midst of nothing but ash.

Vance was too busy mumbling profanities
as he attempted to undo his belt buckle. It was the perfect opportunity.

I dug until I found it. He had one of my arms pulled back to him, but the other was free. So were my legs. I could work with that.

I pulled my clutch from my bra so quickly, I nearly dropped it. The pepper spray Luke and I had been playing with was sitting right on top.

I didn't hesitate once I had it. With every ounce of strength I had, I slammed my heel into his foot, then did the same for the other. His threw a curse at me, but his grip had slipped.

I jerked around so quickly, I think I may have scratched my arm on the brick. The pepper spray can bounced in my hand. Vance obviously knew what it was by his frightened expression.

I hit him right in the eyes with it, more accurately than any other time I'd used it. It was too late for him to miss it. As soon as it connected, he stumbled back, gripping his eyes with a scream that scraped at my eardrums.

I threw my arm back with every ounce of rage that I could conjure, and I included some for Luke, as well. We both deserved this shit.

My fist went straight for his nose. The bone popped right under my hit. I hit him so hard, the bullshit he'd been spewing went right along with him.

His body swept back from the impact, landing atop the gravel. His howl of pain nearly resembled a pups. His hands lifted to the injury until he pulled the bloody palms away.

His hatred jumped to me, but with the pepper spray, he couldn't place any correct view. "I'll fucking kill you!" he hollered, bouncing between the pain in his eyes and his nose. "You hear me, little whore?!"

With shaky tips, I yanked my dress back into place, stepping closer to him. "Oh, I hear you loud and clear."

I'd already done enough damage, but people like him didn't deserve relentlessness. They already had enough if they believed they could do such things without an issue.

I slammed my heel down on his crotch until I felt it dig into his cock. Vance screamed, smacking and scratching at my ankle. I grinned down at him, digging the heel in.

His expression tightened with pain past the blood. "Stop!" he pleaded. "Please—"

"Did you stop when other girls asked you to?" I questioned, tilting my head at him. "Or did you feed into your fucking ego—" I lifted my heel, slamming it into his rib cage, this time. "And, keep going?"

"I didn't, ah—" he yelled a curse as I pressed my heel into his crotch, again. "Stop!"

I craned to eye level. "Say you're sorry," I hissed.

"I'm not—"

I slammed my palm into his broken nose, pressing down until tears slipped from his eyes. "Say. You're. Fucking. Sorry."

"I'm fucking—"

The idea found its way to me through the mix. "Wait." I managed to pull my phone out of my clutch. Luke might enjoy the shit out of this.

I pressed record, dangling it over Vance's painful expression. "Now," I started, smiling. "Say I'm sorry. Loud and clear."

He noticed the camera, his eyes squinting at the flash. His head shook in rejection, or the pain; or both. "Go to—"

I hit his crotch, again.

His lips parted for another cry. "Fuck! I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry!" he shouted, one hand falling to his bloody nose, again.

"One more," I demanded. "I'm sorry for being a little bitch, Luke. Say it."

His glare darkened at me. "Fuck no," he hissed. "Never in my fucking—"

I lifted my foot, again, fully ready to amputate his dirty dick from his body.

Vance yelped, attempting to curl into his own body before he released a heavy curse. "Okay, okay!"

"I'm sorry for being..." his shaky eyes went to mine. I grinned in return, nodding at him to continue. "For being a little bitch, Luke."

"Ah." A satisfied expression relaxed my expression. I shut the phone off, dropping it into back into my clutch. "Was that so hard?"

At his glare, my smile grew until it fell. I needed to get the hell out of here.

"Luke!" I heard someone shout. I recognized it as the mayor's voice, the very one he used that day in the shop. "Get your ass back here this instant, boy!"

I jerked around in utter shock. One second, Luke was moving, and by the next, he was standing right in front of me.

His expression was heavy with fear. His gaze studied over me, carefully. "Shit, shit." His big hands ran me for any physical injuries. "Are you okay?"

Still startled, my head bobbed. "Yeah, yeah..." I cleared my throat. "I'm fine." The blood on my hand was evident, though, so when he caught it, I saw the image of death cross his figure.

Despite my answer, his eyes followed over me to Vance. His expression darkened so deeply, it had me worried that it'd never go away.

His hands fell from me. "What the fuck did you do to her?" he shot at Vance, tearing away from me to storm over to his brother's still stature. "Did you fucking touch her?"

"Me?" Vance exclaimed, his reddened eyes widening at his brother. "Do you see what she—"

The setting changed so quickly, it was hard to grasp. One minute, Vance was on the ground, and Luke was leaning over him. In the next, Luke had hauled his brother up by the back of his neck, and slammed him against the bricks.

Luke leaned in so close, their noses were nearly touching. "Did you fucking touch her?" he repeated, his voice dropping so dangerously low, it made my skin crawl.

"I didn't do shit," Vance hissed, struggling his hold. His claim nearly made me chuckle. "Are you really going to believe a chick over your own fucking brother?"

I'd seen a lot of anger in my life, but never one like this. Luke's was relentless, drawn from a forbidden spot that could never be reached with reasoning. It was dark with no escape. I just never thought it'd be for me.

With no hesitation, he seethed in his brothers face, "I'll believe her over any fucking body."

His next moves riddled me with astonishment. One hand slammed Vance against the brick so hard, his head bobbed from the impact. I knew he'd probably suffer a concussion, but Luke paid it no mind.

He didn't waste another second, Luke swung his fist into his brother's nose so hard, I knew my own wasn't shit compared to his.

I watched on, frozen in shock. Even if I weren't, I wasn't going to move. I sure as hell didn't plan on getting between two grown men, and getting knocked on my ass, too. A part of me wanted to stop Luke simply because of the actions that might follow up if his father came. His voice didn't sound so far from here.

Luke didn't stop his punches until Vance was nearly a bloody corpse. His face was unrecognizable at this point, mushed and pained by all of the beatings he'd taken. It was a pleasing, messy sight.

Luke finally stopped his punches, his chest heaving as he leaned into his brother's face. "If you ever in your fucking life even think to touch what's mine, again," he gritted out between clenched teeth. "I'll put a bullet in your fucking skull before you can even get the thought through." He shoved a finger into the side of Vance's head, only receiving a pained groan in response. "I won't be repeating myself. Do you understand?"

Vance was able to barely pull a nod. Without so much as a sweat, Luke snatched his brother up by his coat. He discarded of him like trash, knocking Vance across the gravel, who landed with a hard thud.

Luke glared after him for a moment, his fists tightening as he challenged over the thought to continue. Somehow, his gaze caught up to me. I nearly jumped at the murderous glint in his eyes, but it dissolved the longer he watched me.

His long legs approached me, his expression hard and rough, but his eyes soft and reassuring.

His chest fell. "I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry. I should have—"

I nodded at him, despite my stray of emotions. "It's fine. I got him pretty good before you..." I glanced down to his bloody fist, to which he swiped along his suit. "Went all hulk smash, and shit." I attempted to use humor to lighten the situation, but it went right through his garden of rage.

Slowly, his fingers wrapped around either wrist, his eyebrows drawn together in frustration. He tugged me to him until our chests were one. His fingers climbed the skin along my wrists until they fell to my hands.

His own curled around mine, squeezing them. "Are you okay?" he asked me, again. "Did he hurt you?"

I craned my head past him to glare at the bloody pulp behind him. "He tried." I met Luke's eyes again, taken aback by the worry in them. "But, he didn't get to."

He nodded slowly, his thumb stroking over my own. "I should have never left you alone. I didn't even think he'd see us," he mumbled to himself. His gaze returned to mine, flooded with guilt and apology. "I'm so sorry, Maggie."

My head bobbed on its own. The words were hanging in the back of my throat, ready for use but unable to get out. I couldn't concentrate with his hands on me, right now.

He squeezed, again. "Let's get the fuck out of here," he suggested, his voice laboring with a sigh. "I'm taking you home."

I nodded, immediately. I was more than happy to leave this wretched place behind. I never wanted to see it, again.

Luke kept his hand in mine as we began to walk. I wasn't too sure why of it, or why I didn't snatch it away. Either way, the comfort was slowly snaking over my bewilderment the longer he held on.

My head tipped up to him. "Can we—"

"What the hell is going on here?"

We both jerked around at his father's voice. Shit.

He was only a couple feet away, with his wife, Beatrice alongside him. Her eyes wandered over us before falling to the ground. They widened, immediately. "Vance!" She released her husband's arm, and hurried to her son, who was attempting to sit up.

Beatrice cradled him, her expression wrung with writer. "Are you okay, honey?" she whispered, practically bottle-feeding Vance.

I rolled my eyes at her bullshit, moving my attention back ahead.

His dad never let his hatred fall from Luke, who had stiffened in my hold. His eyes narrowed at him in accusation. "What did you do to him?"

My head shook, immediately. "I did it," I blurted out before I could think twice.

The mayor paid me no mind. "Oh, don't cover for his bullshit. He's always fucking everything up." His father's face countered pure rage as he stormed over to us. His fists tightened on either side of him as he sliced into Luke's very soul.

"Maggie." I glanced up. Lukes' eyes skipped down to me, his jaw muscle rolling back and forth. "Go to my car. Get in. Wait and don't come out, you hear me?"

I knew he was trying to protect me, again, but fuck that. I meant what I said earlier.

"What?" I exclaimed, my jaw dropping. "No, fuck no—"

"What did I tell you would happen if you fucked this up for me, Luke? Huh? What did I tell you?" His father's tone left my skin crawling with disgust.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him storming right for Luke.

Luke was quick, so quick that I wouldn't have caught it without the consequence. His hand fell to my stomach, pushing me away from him, and his father to avoid getting hit.

I stumbled back, barely catching myself. My attention went back to them, again. His father hauled Luke up by his collar, his fist already reared back.

My legs worked before my brain did. Before I knew it, I was between the two.

My palms slammed into his father's chest so hard, it knocked him back until he tripped over himself. He caught hisself, his anger wiped away with something much more strained. All three sets of eyes watched along in shock.

My gaze shifted into a glare as I stepped in front of Luke. "Get the fuck away from him." If he wanted to get to Luke, he'd have to run me over right here, and right now.

His father picked up his shock, shoving a hand down his suit. His eyes narrowed at me. "Who in the hell do you think you are?"

Luke encased a hand around my stomach, attempting to pull me to the side. "Maggie, stop—"

"Shut the fuck up," I hissed back at him before moving back to his father. "You're not going to touch him, ever again."

"Oh, really?" His head tilted at my demand, the satanic glare deepening. "And, who's going to stop me from doing so?"

I kicked my heels off, nearly landing Vance in the head. "Swing, and we'll fucking see."

If I had time, I would have doused the pepper spray across my knuckles. I should have brought my rings, too. This motherfucker deserved it all.

"This is a private matter, young lady," Beatrice snapped from the side of me. "It involves family, and family only."

I directed my glare at her. "Well, you motherfuckers obviously aren't that." In the corner of my eye, I could see a crowd building from all of the commotion.

Good, they needed to hear this. The real person they'd been praising all along would be trending by tomorrow morning.

His father scowled at me. "What is that supposed to mean?" His hateful gaze went right behind me. "Did you tell her that? You little—"

I stepped in place to block Luke from him. "He didn't tell me shit. It's not that fucking difficult to tell."

I moved my gaze to Vance, who was head deep in his mother's grasp, but I knew he heard me. "You. You look like an unedited fucking version of ET. Your hairline is already receding so bad that I can't tell the difference between the beginning, and your swelled ass forehead. Your breath smells like baboon ass, and you're a little bitch who doesn't know how to accept no."

I looked to his mother, next. "You're a poser, whose husband was so fucking sick of you, he went out, and fucked another woman, whose child you blame your husband's infidelity on. You think you're funny when everyone only laughs to get the fuck away from you even sooner. Your voice sounds like someone's scraping a fork on a rock. Your hair is graying at the roots, and your breath smells like burnt fish sticks, onions, and baby oil that's been tossed in a sewer."

Finally, my gaze fell to the abuser in front of me. His eyes were narrowed in warning, but I was too far gone. They all needed a taste of their own medicine. This wasn't even a lick of all the shit they put an innocent boy through.

"And, you," I sighed around a smile. "The shiny, perfect mayor who has a lot of skeletons in that expensive little closet—"

He pointed a finger my way, his skin swollen red. "I suggest you shut your mouth this instant, you little bi—"

"Watch your fucking mouth when you talk to her," Luke snapped from behind me, his hand tightening around my stomach.

All three were shocked at his outburst, including myself, but I carried on despite.

The crowd was so thick now, I couldn't even see the pathway to the entrance any longer. The mayor was so stuck in his shock that he hadn't even noticed them, yet.

I shot daggers into his father, keeping my gaze on him and him, alone. This shit was for him.

"You cheated on your wife, and had a baby that you blame for your fucking mistakes. You're too pussy to confront your own shit so you put it out on the only good bloodline you have, and will ever have. Your sorry excuse of a wife is probably getting better action from the gardener than you. Your bitch of a son likes to snort crack, and rape girls all in the same fucking day. If anything, you should be grateful that you have at least one good seed left, you dirty, selfish, sorry excuse of a fucking man."

My chest heaved with the confession. That'd been building ever since I saw him beat his child without an ounce of regret.

"Luke, as falsely hated as he is." I jerked my glare around to all of them. "Is a product of his real mother, and his real mother only. And, when he finishes his business, and proves all of you spoiled pricks wrong, I'll gladly be the one, personally, to tell you to kiss his fucking ass." By the end of my statement, my throat ached under the truth of it.

Everything had gone silent other than the hushed murmurs from the crowd. Luke's father was practically spewing smoke from his ears, his lips pressed in a thin like as he tried to cover his temper with even more bullshit. Vance was still crying about his injuries, I believe, and Beatrice was still holding him, her face ghost-white at me.

I guessed I'd been right about her fucking someone else by her reaction. Just like I'd been right about everything else.

The mix of anger, and relief resulted in a dangerous trance. Relief that I had gotten it out, but anger, so much anger that I even had to get it out. Anger that Luke even had to endure their shit on his own for so long.

I broke deadly eye contact with the devil. "Oops." A smirk built on my lips before it transitioned into a shit-eating grin. "Looks like we have an audience." I flicked my head toward the crowd, who was either whispering, watching, or recording, or all three at once. "Go ahead, Mayor Vaudest."

His face went blanch white, his eyes skipping over the crowd. It caught up to him in that moment, how badly he'd fucked up. His attention was forced away by the incoming flashes of cameras. And, finally, for once, Ryan Vaudest was forced to confront his own bullshit.