“I’d feel better if you stayed awake for a while,” she says.

Cyrus, Eli and my father congregate in the doorway. When they notice me staring, they all give me a chin lift of approval.

There’s a round of cheers from below and that’s when I realize I’m in one of the private rooms in the clubhouse.

“The club’s been sitting vigil. Oz and Chevy are ready to start throwing fists if they don’t let them up soon,” Rebecca whispers as she peels back the bandage on my arm.

I scrub my face with my other hand and I’m smacked with an IV line. No way I heard her correctly. “Thought I was the black sheep of this club.”

“Sweetheart, you’re all black sheep.” Rebecca winks. “And, by the way, when you’ve had a few minutes to get your bearings, you’re filling me in on who Breanna is.”

“Fuck,” I mutter, then close my eyes again.

Breanna

ME: I’ve figured out the second code. I don’t understand the meaning, but maybe you will. It’s the third time I’ve texted this to Razor and it makes me dizzy with nerves that he has yet to reply.

I twine my fingers around a lock of my hair and pull as I scan the hallway again. The internet articles I read on the Reign of Terror circle my brain: Reign of Terror member shot by a rival club in Louisville this summer, Reign of Terror member killed in a hit-and-run accident last year, and an article from a few years back that detailed carnage between the Reign of Terror and another club not mentioned by name before my birth.

It’s been three days since I’ve heard from Razor and I’m losing my mind.

“Bre!” Addison blocks my view of the hall and I blink at her harsh tone. “You aren’t even listening to me.”

No, I wasn’t. “Sorry.”

“I’m serious about this. If you’re going to date him, you need to tell somebody.”

Addison was jump-up-and-down-with-joy when I told her that Razor and I were in an undefined relationship, but with each day that passes, my forever-positive best friend has developed into a worrywart.

“You count as somebody,” I say.

“Not what I mean.” She slips in front of me again when I turn my head, searching for Razor in the hallway thick with students waiting for the morning bell to ring. “You need to tell someone else...like your parents.”

The loud voices and laughter vanish as Addison gains my undivided attention. “They would freak if they found out I was dating him.”

Addison innocently bobs her head. “Yes, they will, which is the point. I liked you flirting with him and then you guys kissed and I was cool with that—you know, like you were busting out of your shell. But falling for him? That’s too far. He’s part of the Terror. Being with him is not safe.”

“You’re buying the rumors. You know over half the stuff everyone says is lies.”

Addison grabs my hand. “Which means half of the stuff they say is true. People around the Terror get shot. People who hang with them end up in bad situations. Mia Ziggler was a real person. She did get on the back of a Terror bike and she did disappear. I don’t want that for you.”

My body sways with her words. “So if I go public with Razor and the entire school calls me a Reign of Terror slut, does that have truth to it? Does that make me a whore?”

My best friend backs away like I smacked her. “No. How could you say that to me?”

Tears burn my eyes. Because that’s what I’ve been facing regardless of my relationship with Razor. Maybe Razor is right. Maybe I can’t cut it as his girlfriend, but the thought of breaking it off hurts my heart. “I like him and he likes me.”

Addison’s eyes soften and she halfheartedly yanks a strand of my hair. “You aren’t making being your friend easy this year, brat.”

She drops her arm and I catch sight of a huge bruise. I snatch her wrist and draw up her sleeve. Disgust swims through me. “Things with your dad are getting worse, aren’t they?”

Addison jerks back and pushes down her sleeve. “It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not fine. This has to stop!”

Fire rages out of her eyes, reminding me of the Terror patch, as she raises a pointed finger in my direction. “You get to preach to me about my dangerous life if you do something about yours. Until then, I’ll back off you and you’ll back off me.”

It’s like she’s reached in and fractured my soul. “Addison—”

But she’s already gone, disappeared into the crowd of people, and has left me alone. My foot edges in the direction she retreated when fingers wrap around my wrist. A grip, then a yank.

Adrenaline shoots into my veins. It’s Kyle. He’s been doing this more and more. Dragging me into stairwells and hallways. Begging me to tell him what he can give me in return for the papers. Explaining that he feels bad, that he’s having nightmares, that he’s consumed with guilt. That he’s going insane.

In a flash, I’m in the stairwell and I’m greeted by red hair and blue eyes. It’s Violet, a girl I’ve never talked to before, and now we’re close to very alone.

“I need you to meet me after school,” Violet whispers as she leans into me.

Talk about being on an upside-down roller coaster. “What?”

“It’s Razor. He’s been shot and he’s asking for you.”

* * *

It’s after school and I’m in free fall. Two million thoughts in my mind and I can’t hold on to a single one. Violet’s charging through the green forest and I’m on her heels. We parked a quarter mile away and she’s spitting out a laundry list of warnings like...