Armando

“Maya?” The name slips from my lips like a desperate whisper, trembling in the stillness of the room. Beneath me, something soft and warm cradles my weight—a fleeting comfort that contrasts sharply with the chaos in my mind. I inhale deeply, the air thick with familiarity, and as I lift my head, the haze begins to clear. I blink hard, recognizing the faint outlines of my own room back at the camp, a sanctuary that now feels hauntingly foreign.

The walls hold echoes of the past, unchanged since I last stood here three days ago. My clothes lie scattered on the ottoman, remnants of a life interrupted. The bathroom door stands ajar, an invitation into a space that feels incomplete. But where is Maya? Her absence is a void that grips my chest, and I inhale sharply as awareness crashes in: the searing pain at my side.

We were waiting for Jake. The memory hits like a thunderclap. He must have brought us here—what happened after? Panic rises as I sit up, forcing myself to take stock of the situation. My legs tangle on the carpet, disoriented and weak, and I catch sight of the fresh bandage swathed around my wound. A jolt of realization strikes me—only one other person besides Maya could have done this. Amelia.

The thought twists my gut. I roll my eyes, shoving the discomfort deep down beneath layers of confusion and resentment. She has always harbored a soft spot for me, a fact I’ve ignored. But she knew—she knew this would be her chance to slip closer, to weave herself into my story while I was vulnerable. Just the thought of it sets my teeth on edge. Did she think I wouldn’t notice? Did she hope I’d forget, lost in her care?

As shadows of betrayal flicker at the edges of my consciousness, I can’t shake the feeling that everything has shifted. The stakes have risen, and trust has become a fragile thing. I need answers—and I need them fast. Where's Maya? What really happened? The questions gnaw at me, relentless.

I fumbled with the door, finally letting myself out into the hushed hallway. The silence pressed in around me, amplifying the solitude of my home, where I lived alone while the others were tucked away in their cabins. I knew Jake was only a few feet away from mine, but that thought barely registered as I limped into the kitchen.

There she was, Amelia—draped in a loose robe, her blond hair hastily twisted into a chaotic ponytail. She was striking in her vulnerability, those piercing green eyes narrowing as they met mine, a stark reminder of the twisted history between her, Jake, and now Luna.

The moment I stepped inside, her gaze snapped to me, panic igniting a fierce urgency. She rushed forward, arms wrapping around my waist with a grip that felt too desperate, too intimate. “You shouldn’t be up, Armando,” she gasped, her voice trembling, a haunting plea that sent shivers down my spine.

My heart thundered against my ribcage as I caught her wrists, the heat of her skin seeping into me. I yanked her forward, our faces mere inches apart, her breath hitching in a way that made my pulse quicken. I could sense her fear wrapping around us like a noose, tightening with every heartbeat.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” I snarled, my voice low and guttural. The words left my lips like a weapon, and with a brutal shove, I sent her crashing into the spice cabinet—jars shattered, a cacophony of glass and chaos exploding around us.

She staggered back, shock painted across her face, her composure unraveling in a way that sparked a twisted satisfaction within me. Standing by the sink, flushed and shaken, her vulnerability cut deeper than I cared to admit.

“I... I apologize, Armando,” she stammered, her voice wavering, almost lost amidst the debris. Hurt and confusion clouded her features, and for a fleeting moment, something in her eyes mirrored my own turmoil.

I closed my eyes and drew in a shaky breath, the weight of desperation crashing over me like a tidal wave. I needed Maya—only she could piece together the fragmented shards of my sanity; Amelia couldn’t even begin to comprehend my turmoil.

“Get out,” I growled, my voice low and venomous, barely masking the tempest of emotions swirling inside me.

A sharp pain flickered through my side as I instinctively pressed my hand to the wound, grounding myself against the onslaught of agony. I took another deep breath, forcing myself to focus, when suddenly the front door swung open with a violent creak, and Jake stormed in, slamming the door behind him like a thunderclap.

His gaze flickered between me and Amelia, who stood there, her eyes wide and pleading, silently begging for understanding.

“What’s going on?” he demanded, his boots thudding heavily on the wooden floor as he approached the chaos.

“Where is Maya?” I cut straight to the heart of the matter, my urgency palpable, a raw nerve laid bare.Jake exhaled sharply, ruffling his short hair in frustration as he sank into the chair across from me. “She’s at Luna’s,” he replied, his tone laced with concern. “She’s safe.”

“Get her here. Now!” I snapped, my voice rising to an almost desperate crescendo. Panic clawed at the edges of my mind. I needed Maya by my side; I couldn’t bear the thought of her being at Luna’s, away from me, while everything was spiraling out of control.

Jake smirked, a flicker of arrogance in his eyes. He glanced at Amelia, a silent command that sent her rushing out of the room, leaving Jake and me alone in the charged silence.

“I’ll get her, but first we need to talk about what happened to you,” he said, leaning back in his chair, his gaze piercing through the tension like a blade.

“What is it?” I breathed, exhaling sharply as I shifted my weight away from where the pain throbbed in my gut, a reminder of how close I’d come to disaster.

“Why did you go to the park to meet them without me?” His head tilted slightly, expectation hanging in the air like a storm cloud ready to burst.

“We needed to make peace,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper, but the weight of it felt like a confession. Jake’s fist collided with the table, the sound reverberating through the charged atmosphere, and he curled his fingers into a tight ball, his frustration palpable. This was why I hadn’t wanted him involved; he took everything too personally, too deeply. I could see the anger boiling beneath the surface, threatening to spill over, and I knew that if he had been by my side, everything would have unraveled.

What would have happened then? Would Maya have to choose between us, forced to care for two bruised souls, or would she have been left standing alone, the remnants of our recklessness haunting her forever?

“So you went without me? You knew what would happen, and you took the risk of being alone? That was a stupid idea, and you shacked up with a nurse who doesn’t even know you. What did you tell her to convince her to take you to her apartment?” I gripped the edge of the table so hard my knuckles turned white, the wood creaking under the strain of my fury.

“I didn’t have to tell her anything,” he shot back, his voice laced with defiance. “She did it out of the goodness of her heart, and frankly, it’s none of your business. I was hiding from Reaper. They didn’t find us until they sent Moose to track me down.” The words tumbled from my mouth, but I could see the tension coiling in his shoulders as he leaned against the table, a storm brewing behind his eyes.

“Well, you hid from your own crew too, so don’t act like you’re the only one affected by your reckless decisions.” Jake's voice was low, dangerously calm, but I could see the rage simmering just beneath the surface. His fist pressed into the table, the straining tendons in his arm a testament to his struggle to contain his emotions.

“I had to hide! You know if I came here, everyone would be dead. Not just me, but you and the whole crew! I had to protect the clubhouse!” I pointed vehemently out the window, each word laced with desperation. My life, my identity—it all revolved around this gang. My father passed this legacy to me, and I felt the weight of that responsibility crushing down on my chest.

“Trisha is dead because of you, Armando. She was young, vibrant—she had her whole life ahead of her. Yet, we buried her just days ago.” Jake’s gaze pierced through me, filled with a sorrow that twisted my gut. The pain etched on his face mirrored my own anguish, and I knew in that moment that my choices had irrevocably shattered our world.

“Trisha was like a sister to us, Armand! We raised her!” Jakes voice cracked, the enormity of my loss crashing over me like a tidal wave. How could I be so cold, so heartless? The guilt gnawed at my insides, a relentless beast clawing for release.

I exhaled sharply and ran my trembling hands through my unkempt hair, desperately wishing for clarity. My father wouldn’t have let this happen. He always had a plan, a way to shield us from harm, but my own plan had faltered, leaving devastation in its wake.

“Your nurse will be here soon.” Jake’s words dripped with disappointment as he pushed back his chair with a loud scrape against the wooden floor, shattering the fragile silence between us. He stormed out, slamming the front door with such force that the walls rattled—an angry echo of our broken trust.