Page 26 of Riot

“You wanna tell me about it?”

I stare out the window as cars and buildings pass by in a whirl of colour. “Not really.”

If that annoys him, he doesn’t show it. “Fine. Be a broody bitch. You learn anything from staying at the clubhouse?”

This is safer ground, and I lean into it. “Crank’s a piece of shit.” I shift in the seat, trying to ease the pressure on my ribs.

“That ain’t news.”

“You think we can do this?”

His knuckles whiten as he grips the steering wheel. “Honestly? I don’t know, but we have to try. It ain’t just about our chapter, Riot. It’s the whole club. One rotten apple ruins the whole barrel.”

And we’ve got an infestation.

“You good with bein’ the king?” I ask with a smirk, but I mean it. The weight on his shoulders must be fucking crushing him.

He sighs. “Why? You want the crown, princess?”

I snort.Sarcastic shithead.“Fuck no. I ain’t a leader, Nic, and we both know that. I’d turn the clubhouse into one big orgy in less than a week.”

What I want is for the clubhouse to be safe again. I want to take Ivy and Seren there. Maylie and Toby too. I want brotherhood and family. I want loyalty and respect.

Right now, it’s poison, but one day, I want Ivy to share that part of me, to see what it should be.

Let her see the club when it’s not drowning in betrayal. When it’s just us.

Us.

The word slithers into my mind uninvited and punches me in the gut.

Shit.What the fuck am I thinking? Ivy ain’t mine. She can’t be. But the thought grows, curling around my bruised ribs like barbed wire.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

She’s been through hell. She doesn’t need a violent, broken bastard like me getting twisted up in her life.

So, why does the thought of someone else touching her make my vision bleed red?

Nic stops the car in front of the clubhouse, and I shove my thoughts down in a savage chokehold. I’m a piece of shit for even thinking about Ivy this way.

“You okay?” Nicky’s voice bleeds through the veil.

“Ah, yeah. You comin’ in?”

He peers at the building like he’s seeing ghosts. “Nah. I’m gonna head home.”

I don’t blame him. I hate being here too. “Thanks for the lift.”

I open the door and groan at the stab of pain as I slide out.

“Riot?”

I turn back to peer through the open door. “Yeah?”

“Next time, call a taxi or a prospect,” he says. “I ain’t your fuckin’ mother.”

I laugh then wince as it pulls at my broken lip. “See ya later, shithead.”

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