Page 79 of Riot

The box is placed next to us, and he retreats without a word.

“I thought they were from you,” she repeats, sounding odd. She seems detached, which worries me. Fallon has a tendency to retreat into herself, to overthink and push everything away when life becomes too much. I don’t want that to happen, so I keep a firm hold on her hand, open the box, and lay out what I need as I speak to her.

“I’d never send you roses, sweetheart. Dahlias for us, okay?” She nods, and I turn to her hand. “This is going to hurt, beautiful.”

“Just do it.” She nods jerkily, both of us ignoring the blood dripping steadily across us from our position.

She doesn’t cry, not even as I disinfect the wounds, but I know it has to hurt.

“You’re doing so well, sweetheart,” I coo as I clean them up and try to stop the bleeding, but they just keep going, so I grab some bandages and make quick work of binding her fingers. She won’t be playing the piano anytime soon, but they will heal. It could have been a lot worse, and she’s okay, but that doesn’t stop the terror trapped in my chest that started from her scream.

It’s a sound that will haunt me. I almost lost her once. I can’t let it happen again.

I lick the blood from her hand and arm as she watches. “I’ll make them bleed for this,” I promise against her skin, watching the goose bumps rise on her arm. I lean in and kiss her so she can taste her blood and my promise.

They will pay for making her bleed.

Cupping her face, I pull away, watching her blink. “Are you okay?”

She nods, looking down at herself. “I need to change. This dress is ruined, isn’t it?”

“I’ll buy you ten more,” I tell her. Hell, I’ll buy her every dress in the fucking world if it will get her to smile right now, but she just nods and steps past me. I watch her with a frown as the feeling of something wrong fills me. She’s been like this before, distant, like she’s not quite there.

I know Fallon struggles with her emotions. I’ve seen it firsthand, and as I follow her into the hall, I worry they are getting the best of her once more. She’s been so strong recently despite everything, so maybe it’s all finally caught up to her.

I watch her head upstairs, and then I turn, my eyes narrowed.

“We found this, sir.” The guard hands over a folded bit of card, blood staining the front like a watercolor promise.

Flipping it open, I read the hastily scrawled threat, my anger only growing.

Stop now or else these flowers won’t be the only thing cutting into your skin.

I hand it back over. “See if you can get fingerprints. I want answers, and I don’t want anything like this to happen again. Every delivery is stopped and does not come in unless I approve it. I don’t want anyone at this door. This is her sanctuary, her safety. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

My eyes go back to the stairs where my princess just disappeared.

FORTY

Idon’t bother showering, since I don’t have the energy. It was zapped out of me. Maybe it’s shock, but deep down, I know it’s not. It’s that swirling darkness that lives inside me rearing its ugly head, telling me I’m not good enough, that I should give up and I can’t win.

Instead, I simply slip into my bed naked, my eyes locked on the dust motes floating and dancing in the space before the window, free, floating, and unburdened. It’s the way I wish I could be, but everything feels heavy and wrong.

I glance down at my hand. Even that doesn’t hurt as much as it should. It didn’t pierce the fog. I was doing so well. I hate that it came back now. I hate even more that Kage saw me this way, but those thoughts are dragged under the tidal wave claiming my soul.

Maybe this world would be a better place without me. Maybe Evelyn wouldn’t have died. Maybe others wouldn’t be struggling with their own pasts if I hadn’t brought them up. I’m just a selfish bitch who deserves this.

I don’t know what depression feels like for everyone else, but for me, it always felt like this—a weight pressing me down, stealing my energy and my drive, darkening my heart until I can’t tell right from wrong.

I fight against it silently. I don’t scream or throw things. I just lie here, in the same position on my side, watching the sun move through the sky.

The bed dips behind me, and arms slide around me, tugging me back against a warm chest. I don’t have the energy to move, nor do I want him to see me. He’ll know.

He’ll take one look at me and know like everyone else does.

I am just loud on the outside and empty on the inside.

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