Chapter 12. You’re Crazy

Wren

“Who sent you?” Ezra sneers.

The young guy—that looks more like a teenager than an adult—doesn’t respond.

Ezra’s fist shoots out, hitting him straight in the nose. I wince.

Blood splatters out, and the guy groans with the little strength he has left, cupping his nose.

All my appetite quickly vanishes, stomach churning.

“I’m not going to ask you again,” Ezra says. “Who sent you? What club do you belong to?”

The guy still doesn’t respond.

My eyes drift to Ezra. His face is hard, chest heaving with barely controlled rage.

He scoffs suddenly. “You’re not going to talk, yea?”

Ezra runs his bloody knuckles through his damp hair, pacing. We all watch, waiting for what he’ll do.

“Torch, Clay and Quinn,” Ezra calls, and all the three men step out of the crowd with matching scowls.

The guy trembles at the sight of more bulky men, eyes wide in terror. His fear strikes something in me, and when his eyes meet mine… I kn