Page 21 of Mortals and Mayhem

“Someone’s been spending way too much time in fantasy land. I know of one, maybe two, that might want to make me writhe in ecstasy. The rest just want to make me writhe in pain—and no—not the toe-curling pleasant kind, either,” I scoff.

She just giggles and shakes her head at me.

“But that’s not important right now. What’s important is why you are here. You keep telling me this is real—not just my grieving mind playing tricks on me. Explain this to me, Grace. What happened to the whole rest in peace shit?”

“The how is complicated, but the short version goes like this. Like you, I’m not human, but I’m not entirely shifter, either. I’m something else completely. My guys and I are working it out. At this point in time, there’s nothing else to really tell you.”

I inhale and open my mouth to speak, but she holds out her hand, cutting me off before I can unload my questions.

“Before you ask. No, I will not elaborate on the my guys part. And no, there is nothing you can do to help. Besides, you have enough work to do. Which leads us to the why I am here.”

I close my mouth and sink into the mattress, settling in for the lecture I can hear in her lowered tone and see in the series of lines in her stern expression.

“I’m here because I’m terrified for you, Riley. You’re drunk more often than you’re sober. You’re almost always high on something. Do you even know what you’re putting in your body these days? I don’t want to make it home one day and find your name on a tombstone. I want to be able to hug your neck in person, not mourn you at your grave. I’m here because you need me.”

“Grace—” I sit up, my hackles rising, ready to argue.

“You have a circle of people that want to support you,” she says, cutting me off. “Let them help you through this.” She places her hands on my cheeks, cupping my face like I used to do to her as a kid. “I love you, Riles, but you have got to get your shit together. You’re scaring the fuck out of me. Please … For me.”

The plea in her voice cracks the wall I erected around my heart. Feelings of grief and anger leak through the guard, and I swallow it down. With the most serious expression I can muster, I lighten the mood the only way I know how—humor. “We need a swear jar. Look at what being dead has done to you. My sweet, innocent, baby sister. What a foul mouth you’ve developed. Tsk, tsk, tsk.”

A genuine smile splits my face for the first time in months. Her eyes glisten as she smiles in return before wrapping her arms around me and knocking me to the bed in an embrace.

She softly speaks in my ear, “Riley, the next few months are going to be the most painful and hardest of your life. But I want you to promise me something. Promise me you won’t give up. That you’ll fight every second of every day no matter how hopeless it may seem. Promise me you’ll let your mates help you through it and that you’ll reconnect with your wolf so she can help you, too.”

Tears slide down my cheeks. I know if I make this promise I won’t be able to keep it. How do you let someone close enough to see you at your most vulnerable but not close enough to hurt you when they walk away. How do I open up when I’m scared as fuck of getting hurt again?

I wrap my arms around her and hug her tight, wishing with every fiber of my being that she was real. Reluctantly, I let her go with a little push so I can meet her eyes. Real or not, I’ll do this for her.

“I promise you, Grace. I’ll stop the drugs, and I’ll fight like hell not to give up getting through the withdrawal. I can’t promise to let the guys in, and no, I am not calling them my mates. I can’t go there, Grace. I’m sorry.”

She nods in understanding. “You will, don’t sell yourself short. Or them. It’s time for me to go, and time for you to start fighting. Don’t worry … I’ll be back.” The last part is spoken in her worst terminator impression ever, leaving me laughing as she fades into the dark. Still as corny as ever, my baby sister. Gods, I love and fucking miss you so damn much. I will see you again, Gracey, I promise you that.

My mind is set and determination cemented. For her I will do this. For her I’ll live.

Chapter 16

RILEY

I lied. I can’t do this.

Not when I’m constantly woken by the most gods awful pain—every muscle in my body, from my head to my toes, is pulled so taut I can’t move. And my hands are locked in fists, my toes curled. The fire licking through my insides is dialed to raging inferno. Buckets of sweat pour from every inch of my body. Yet, I’m shivering as though I’m in the Arctic buck-ass naked.

My stomach sours and nausea rolls over me. I try to turn over on my side, but the stabbing pain in every joint won’t let me move. I try to turn my head just enough so I don’t choke when the inevitable vomiting starts, but I can’t fucking move. Gods, please don’t let me die like this.

I can’t stop it from coming no matter how hard I try to hold it off. The pain is just too great. Acidic bile rushes up my throat and fills my mouth, overflowing and running down my cheeks and up my nose. My lungs burn as they are denied the much-needed oxygen, and tears pour from my eyes.

“Fuck! Riley! Axel, get the fuck in here!” I’m grabbed from under my neck and back and rolled to my side. I want to protest the sudden shift, but as my mouth empties, a moment of relief fills me. That is until the gagging starts again, prompting the next wave of vomiting.

“Breathe, Riley, fucking hell, breathe. Axel!” Gods, he sounds fucking pissed.

Footsteps pound towards me and more hands grab my face, turning me farther to the side.

“Cree, relax. Look at her … she’s breathing, she’s okay. Be gentle and help me prop her on some pillows, and we’ll get her cleaned up.” Axel’s relaxing tone washes over me, soothing my wolf and my soul much like his gentle touch on my body. The tense muscles of Cree where his body is pressed against mine relax as Axel speaks to him.

Four strong hands slide under me and lift, forcing a whimper to escape as they shift and maneuver me into position like I’m nothing more than a puppet. Another body slides in behind me and gently pulls me back against a warm bare chest. The smell of a burning campfire fills me, and instantly, I know it’s Cree. The amount of heat radiating from him warms my center, and the muscles pulling in my back slowly unwind, causing me to sink back into him with a moan.

My hand is lifted and placed on the rim of what feels like a bucket next to my hip. “Just in case you need it,” Axel whispers. A cool cloth is run along my face, wiping away the sweat and cooling my skin. A sigh of relief is pulled from me, and I relax further into Cree behind me just before another wave of white-hot pain flashes through me. My body curls in on itself, and my mouth opens in a silent scream as tears pour from my eyes. Gods, make it stop, make it stop. Please. Make. It. Stop.

---