She caught me.

RYAN

The door slammed shut behind me, and the silence of the house wrapped around me like a second skin. My knuckles throbbed, split and bruised from hitting Luke, but the ache in my hands was nothing compared to the fury still simmering in my chest.

Luke Carter.

That coward. He’d been hiding for weeks, skulking around like the rat he was, thinking he could escape the fallout of what he’d done. It wasn’t hard to find him; people like him always left crumbs behind.

When I finally tracked him down in that filthy alley, part of me felt sickened by how pathetic he looked. He wasn’t the same Luke I remembered—confident, always cracking jokes, always hanging around Violet. No, this Luke was hollow. The guilt was eating him alive.

Good.

He deserved every second of it.

I hadn’t planned on losing control like that. I’d gone there to confront him, to make sure he understood what he’d done. But the second he looked at me—cowardly, guilty, weak—I snapped.

I saw her face in my mind. Violet.

I thought about how she must have felt that day—the fear, the betrayal, the sheer weight of realizing someone she trusted had turned on her. And then I thought about how she still refused to involve the cops, still tried to protect him, even after everything.

It made me sick.

Luke didn’t deserve her kindness, her mercy. He deserved exactly what I gave him—and more.
I climbed the stairs two at a time, each step driving the anger further down, burying it somewhere deep.

The hallway was silent, save for the soft thud from my boots. Only a few more steps to my room. I just needed to clean up, maybe sit in the shower long enough to drown out my thoughts.

But then I heard it—a sound from Violet’s room.

Shit.

She can’t know, I reminded myself for what felt like the hundredth time. She must not know I went looking for him, that I found him, that I snapped.

Would she forgive me if she did?

The thought stopped me in my tracks. My throat tightened at the possibility.

The door creaked open, and my breath caught as Ashley stepped out of Violet’s room.

My brows furrowed in confusion. “Ashley?” I whispered harshly. She was supposed to be at school with Violet. Why was she here, sneaking around the house like some thief?

Before I could ask, she raised a finger to her lips, hushing me.

Her gaze swept over me, her sharp blue eyes lingering on my bloodstained shirt and pants.

“Luke’s?” she asked softly, her expression unreadable.

I gave her a curt nod, not trusting myself to say more.

Her face tightened, and her jaw clenched. She tilted her chin up slightly, but her eyes—those damn eyes—shone with barely concealed anger.

Of course. Luke had been her friend, too.

The silence between us felt heavy, almost unbearable. She was staring at me, her gaze a swirl of unspoken questions—Why now? Why this? What did you do?—but she didn’t say a word.

“What are you doing here?” I broke the silence. “School isn’t over yet.”

She hesitated, her lips pressing into a thin line, before finally answering. “Violet had a panic attack at school. I brought her home. She’s sleeping now.”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. “A panic attack?” I echoed, my voice barely above a whisper.

Ashley nodded, crossing her arms over her chest. “She was barely holding it together all morning. By lunchtime, she just… broke.”

My hands clenched into fists, the pain in my knuckles forgotten. I didn’t need to ask what had caused it. Luke. Of course, it was Luke. Even whenhiding, his actions were still tearing her apart.

Ashley’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts. “How did you find him?”

I clenched my jaw, ruffling my hair in frustration. For a moment, I debated lying, brushing her off, but something in her eyes stopped me. She already knew enough to piece it together.

I exhaled sharply, the words spilling out before I could stop them. “I tracked him down,” I admitted. “He’s been hiding like the coward he is, but he slipped up. It wasn’t hard to find him.”

Her brow furrowed. “And then what? You beat the crap out of him?”

I didn’t answer. I didn’t have to. The blood on my shirt was enough of a confirmation.

Ashley sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Ryan, what were you thinking? Do you have any idea what Violet would do if she found out?”

“She won’t,” I snapped, my voice sharper than I intended. “You’re not going to tell her.”

She stared at me for a long moment before nodding slowly. “Don’t worry. I won’t say a word to Violet. But…”

“But what?” I challenged.

“But this doesn’t solve anything,” she said firmly. “Hurting Luke doesn’t erase what he did to her. It doesn’t take away the pain she’s feeling.”

“I know that,” I said through gritted teeth. “She doesn’t need to know,” I said finally, my voice quieter now. “Not about this. She has enough to deal with.”

Ashley studied me for a moment, then nodded again. “Fine. But you need to take care of yourself, too. She’s not the only one who needs saving.”

I glanced toward Violet’s door, my chest tightening. I needed to check up on her but first,I have to clean up.

She didn’t need to know. Not now. Not ever.

With a heavy sigh, I turned and headed to my room.

I trudged into my room and shut the door behind me, peeling off my bloodstained shirt. My knuckles were raw, the skin split and crusted with dried blood as I headed to the bathroom.

I turned on the shower, letting the heat steam me up. I grabbed a rag and started cleaning the mess off my hand. The blood swirled down the drain, fading into nothing, but it didn’t feel like enough.

Luke deserved what he got—there was no doubt about that. But Ashley’s words lingered, needling at the back of my mind.

This doesn’t solve anything.

I pressed my lips into a thin line, shaking off the thought. I wasn’t doing this for closure or to fix things. I was doing it because someone needed to pay.

Once my hands were clean, I stripped out of my jeans and stepped into the shower. The hot water poured over me, scalding against my skin. I tilted my head back, letting it run over my face, washing away the grime.

My phone buzzed on the counter just as I turned off the water. Wrapping a towel around my waist, I grabbed it, flipping the screen to see a text from Jack.

Jack: Found Max. What’s the move?

A slow, bitter smile spread across my face. Max. Finally.

I typed back quickly.

Me: Keep him there. I’ll handle it.

The pieces were falling into place, one by one.

I ran a hand through my damp hair, feeling more in control now. The plan was clear. The next steps were set.

But as I opened the bathroom door and stepped back into my room, I froze.

Violet was there, sitting on the edge of my bed.

Her eyes locked onto mine immediately, and the air in the room turned heavy. There was no mistaking the anger blazing in her gaze, but beneath it, I saw something else—hurt.

My stomach dropped.

Well, shit.