“He did that for you.”
Vincent only shrugged. “Still can’t trust a traitor.”
“You bastard.”
He sneered as I went at him with the tiki mug. Trey stepped in and grabbed my wrist, yanking me back hard. I let out a gasp as he buried his fist into my gut then tossed me aside. I tried to suck in air but it felt like he’d flattened my lungs.
“I didn’t want to have to do this,” Vincent said, almost sounding regretful. “But if you won’t make it easy—”
Trey came for me again, that time I dodged around him and ran. I sprinted to the door, threw myself into the hallway, then slammed it shut behind me. I sprinted along the carpet and heard a shout behind me, but I didn’t look back. I reached the staircase and took them two at a time, lungs burning, eyes stinging from tears, hate fueling my run. I reached the room and grabbed the handle, throwing it open—
And found everything torn to shreds.
I walked a few steps inside, mouth hanging open.
The lamp was knocked over and there was glass on the floor. Bottles had been picked up and smashed from the bar. Blood stained the carpet, and the TV was knocked sideways, the screen flickering. It looked like something horrible had happened, like a murder scene, and I thought I might scream.
I heard someone come up behind me and shove me forward. I stumble and almost fell to the floor. I turned as Trey came for me, a wicked gleam in his eyes.
“Shouldn’t have fought, girly,” he said, raising his hands up, and I knew what was coming.
I prepared myself to fight him. If he was going to hurt me, I’d make him pay, I’d make all of them pay. I was sick and tired of letting them shoot me, hit me, make me bleed, when all I wanted was to be left alone. I’d rip out Trey’s eyes, kick him in the balls again and again until he puked blood, I’d bite off his nose if I had to. I didn’t care.
I’d make him hurt for this.
“Stop it.” A voice from the doorway made Trey pause. I backed up until I bumped into an end table with a sideways lamp. Dante surveyed the room, then looked at Trey and made a shooing gesture. “Get out.”
Trey clenched his jaw. “Vincent said—”
“Get out, you fucking twat.”
The thug glanced back at me, but obeyed and left the room. Dante watched him go before closing the door softly and facing me. He ran a hand through his hair and wiped at his face.
“I’m sorry about this,” he said.
“What the hell happened?”
“Vincent came back.” The words were meant to be some kind of explanation, but it didn’t explain a damn thing.
“Ren saved your asses. All of your asses, Vincent’s included. And he pulls this?”
“He never wanted this in the first place. He feels as though he was robbed of beating the Dusters himself.” Dante snorted. “He can be an asshole sometimes.”
I stepped toward Dante. “And what happened? Is Ren okay?”
“He’s alive, if that’s what you mean.” He gestured at the room. “Didn’t go down easy though. Broke a few jaws on his way out the door. Got to hand it to him, he’s a tough bastard. I have nothing but respect.”
“Then let me see him.”
“Can’t do that.” He leaned up against the door and looked tired. “Look, Amber. Shit’s changed, okay? The family’s not what it used to be, and I’m doing all I can to keep it from falling apart. Ren was a problem from the start, and Vincent’s positive he’ll rip off the whole place if we keep him around.”
“I don’t know what that has to do with me. I’m not a part of this stupid family.”
“You are, whether you like it or not. Honestly, you’re lucky. Vincent wanted to do something worse to you, but I convinced him to ship you back to Chicago. You’ll be okay there, I think.”
“Great, you’re such a fucking saint.” I approached him, ready to kill. He eyed me lazily, and I got the feeling that he was more than he appeared. “I want to see Ren again, Dante.”
“Sorry about that. As far as you’re concerned, Ren’s dead, and that’s the end of it.” He opened the door and stepped out. “Clean the place up, if you don’t mind, and make sure you’re packed. We leave early tomorrow morning. I’ll have someone bring up a meal.”
I ran at him, but he slammed the door in my face. The handle locked with an audible click, and I slumped down onto the floor, rage and sadness mingling all through me.
I didn’t know what to do. If they hurt Ren, I’d never forgive them, not any of them, not even my father. I wouldn’t stay in Chicago, they couldn’t force me to stay there forever. I’d come back to Philly— I’d find Ren, wherever he was— I’d do something—