Chapter 3 Bang

(Diane)

I clenched my fists, digging my nails into my palms to keep from lunging at Savannah. I wasn’t about to give them the satisfaction of seeing me lose control. Instead, I straightened my spine, forcing myself to meet Victor’s gaze.

“So this is who you are,” I said coldly, my voice steadier than I thought it would be. “A liar. A cheat. A coward.”

Victor just stares at me, his expression unreadable, his silence louder than any excuse or justification he could have mustered. 

My chest burns, anger and betrayal clawing at me, but before I can say another word, a familiar, sharp tug pulls at my mind.  

The mind-link.  

My father.  

“What is it, Dad?” I respond, forcing my voice to sound light, chipper even. 

I can’t let him hear the strain in my tone. He’s been under so much pressure lately, dealing with setbacks in the pack’s business dealings. 

Victor, has been helping him, but the weight of it all has been wearing him down. The last thing I want is to add to his burden with… whatever this is.  

For a moment, the link is silent, heavy with something I can’t quite place. Then his voice comes through, quiet, strained, almost like a whisper carried in the wind.  

“I’m sorry,” he says, the words hitting me like a blow. 

“Take care of your mother for me.”  

And then—nothing.  

The link cuts off, leaving behind a suffocating void where his presence had been. 

My heart drops, my breath catching in my throat.  

“Dad? Dad!” Panic rises in my chest, my voice trembling as I try to reconnect, to reach him through the link. “What’s wrong? Answer me!”  

Nothing.

The silence is deafening, and a cold dread seeps into my bones. Nina whimpers, pacing anxiously within me.  

“Something’s wrong,” she growls, her usual sharpness now tinged with fear.  

I stumble back from the room, the scene before me forgotten as my mind races. My father’s words replay over and over, each time tightening the knot in my chest.  

Victor's lips twisted into a smirk, one so infuriatingly calm it made my blood boil. 

He leaned back casually, the dim light catching the sharp angles of his jaw as if he were posing for a magazine cover. 

His emerald-green eyes gleamed with amusement, the corner of his mouth quirking upward in a way that made Nina snarl.  

With deliberate slowness, he raised his right hand, shaping it into a mock gun, his index and middle fingers forming the barrel while his thumb cocked back as the hammer. 

Then, without breaking eye contact, he brought the "gun" to his mouth and pulled the "trigger."  

“Bang,” he mouthed, the sound soft yet deliberate.  

Savannah erupted into laughter, a shrill, grating sound that echoed off the walls like nails on a chalkboard. 

She tossed her head back dramatically, her blonde hair shimmering under the warm light as though she were in a performance. 

The laugh wasn’t just mocking—it was theatrical, high-pitched, and far too long. She clutched at her stomach as if she couldn’t contain the hilarity, leaning into Victor as if he’d just delivered the punchline of the century.  

“Oh, my goddess!” she managed to gasp between giggles, wiping a nonexistent tear from her eye. “That’s *so* good, babe. The timing? *Perfect!*” 

Her laughter crescendoed again, now verging on hysterical, the sound so forced and exaggerated it grated against my already fraying nerves.  

My fists clenched at my sides, my nails digging into my palms as I stared at them. 

The air between us crackled with tension, their mockery hanging heavy in the room. 

Nina growled furiously, pacing with renewed energy, demanding I unleash her wrath.  

But I didn’t move. I couldn’t. 

My mind was spinning, torn between my father’s cryptic message and the burning betrayal searing through my chest. Victor’s smugness, Savannah’s shrieking laugh—it all blurred together, fading into the background as my father’s last words echoed in my mind.  

The knot in my stomach tightened as dread clawed its way up my spine.

The sound of my mother’s scream pierces through the walls of the pack house as I burst through the door. 

It’s raw, guttural, like the cry of a wounded animal—so unlike her usual composed demeanor that it sends a chill straight to my bones. 

My legs move on instinct, rushing toward the sound even as dread coils tighter around my heart with every step.  

When I find her, the scene before me is worse than anything I could have imagined. She’s on the floor, cradling my father in her arms. Blood is everywhere—on her clothes, her hands, even streaked across her face as if she’d wiped away tears with crimson-stained fingers.  

“NO! No, no, no!” she wails, rocking him back and forth. Her voice cracks with every syllable, the sound shredding whatever composure I had left. 

Her usually sharp green eyes are wild, unfocused, rimmed with red as tears stream down her face. 

My father’s head lolls limply against her shoulder, his skin pale, his chest unmoving.  

The pungent tang of blood fills the air, thick and suffocating. The floor beneath them is slick with it, a dark, spreading pool that stains the wooden planks. My father’s shirt is soaked through, and a gaping wound on his side glares at me like a silent accusation.  

I take a shaky step forward, my voice trembling. “Mom…”  

Her head snaps up at the sound of my voice, but there’s no recognition in her eyes—only raw, unfiltered rage. She bares her teeth at me, a low, animalistic snarl rumbling from her throat as she clutches my father tighter. Her bloodied hands grip him as though she can shield him from me, her entire body trembling with adrenaline and grief.  

I freeze, my outstretched hand faltering. “Mom, it’s me,” I say softly, trying to keep my voice steady despite the panic rising in my chest. “It’s okay. Let me help.”  

But she sneers at me, her lips curling back to reveal her teeth. Her eyes flicker with something feral, something unhinged, and the snarl grows louder.  

“She doesn’t know who you are right now,” Nina says quietly, her voice heavy with sorrow. “She’s too far gone.”