FIFTY-EIGHT

RYDER’S POV

I slammed my fists into the wall in anger as I stared down at the scape goats that were chained in the warehouse. It was early in the morning, we spent the whole night battling those bloody rogues but I didn’t feel tired at all. I wanted answers.

One of them had killed himself already before we got to the warehouse. I’m still unaware of how he got a knife and ended his life, and I was mad at those that were supposed to guard them for allowing something like that slip right through their fingers.

I picked up the gang leader by his collar and lifted him up with my left hand, his legs trembling underneath him and his lips quivering with large droplets of sweat running down his face.

“Who the fuck sent you and what is your aim, you moron,” I questioned him for the second time but his quivering lips would not let him form a single word, so I smashed my fists into his face real hard, and blood tri