Twos and Sevens 4

Avery

Something was up with pretty much every single person I classed as a friend. Wicked was acting like a bear with a sore head, and Truth looked shifty as all hell. The only person who seemed to be acting himself was Fender. And as his usual self was a total asshole that wasn’t saying anything.

Having grown up in the club I had seen more than my fair share of what went on at these parties. But not even my dad, the old president of the Aces would have done what Fender was currently doing.

At least I was pretty sure he wouldn’t.

Part of me felt sorry for the girl. For all of her bravado, she had no idea what she was getting herself into with Fender. He would chew her up and spit her out a broken woman.

Still, it wasn’t her that I felt I had to look after right now. It was Ruin. Having gotten his sister out of the bar and away from the shit show that was currently happening he hadn’t said a word.

He just sat there. His face stony. Tracing circles just above my knee. He was trying t