Page 4 of Riot

Fuck.

I fumble for the lamp until my fingers find the switch and light floods the room, chasing away the shadows.

There’s no trace of Link and no monsters lurking at the edge of the room, just mine and Seren’s things.

Home. My sanctuary.

Even though I know I’m safe, the dream lingers, and the fear remains as sharp as a knife. I thought I’d buried that darkness, locked it away somewhere it can’t hurt me, but there’s no escape from my own demons, from my own mind.

My temple pulses in time with the frantic drumbeat of my heart.

It’s not real.It’s been months.Months. And yet those nightmares persist, tossing me right back into hell every time I close my eyes.

I drop my head into my hands, knowing it’ll be a while before I stop shaking and my nerves quiet. The adrenaline dump will leave me exhausted, but at least then I’ll be able to sleep without dreaming.

In the last few weeks, little tendrils of my trauma have been creeping into my mind, poisoning my calm. The memories that are surfacing are devastating. All the things I endured, what I let him do to me, and all the times I was weak play on a loop the second I close my eyes.

He’s not gone—I’m not naïve enough to believe that—but his absence has given me time to at least catch my breath and heal, or so I thought.

All I did was slap a bandage over the gaping wound, and now, it’s bleeding again.

I thought I was safe.

That space, that illusion of freedom, is because of my brother-in-law and his connection to the Untamed Sons Motorcycle Club. Link might be a monster, but he’s also a coward and bullies only hurt people who can’t fight back. Mace is a threat he can’t win against, and that’s why he’s kept his distance.

But I know my ex. At some point, Link’s need to control me will overtake his fear of Mace, and when it does, he’ll come for me. He’ll come for his daughter too, and he’ll use her to break me.

A whimper from the cot is all it takes for my attention to snap back to the room.

I’m on my feet in a heartbeat, and I force the tension from my body before I touch my daughter. She doesn’t need to feel my pain or my anxiety.

I might be drowning in my trauma, but nothing will ever mark her. I’ll die before I let it. Seren is my light in the dark, the only reason I keep breathing.

Without her, I’m nothing.

My biggest fear was that I wouldn’t be able to love her. I was terrified that the way she was conceived, the brutality of those days under her father’s control, would put an insurmountable wall between us.

Somehow, it hasn’t. Somehow, none of what came before mattered.

Because Seren isn’t his. She’s mine.

When I look at her, I don’t see her father. I see everyone I’ve ever loved. She has Maylie’s eyes, Toby’s mouth, and her colouring is all Mum.

From the first time I held her in my arms, I felt connected, like we were two souls clinging to each other. With that, love flourished and grew, and my past was no longer part of her story.

“I love you, sweet girl,” I whisper into the quietness of the room.

Saying the words aloud chases away the lingering shadows, leaving behind a chill that freezes my bones.

I need my daughter in my arms.Now.

I lower the side of the cot so I can lift her out. Her weight and her baby-smell leaches the residual tension from my body, and I drink it in like the finest wine.

“I wonder what today will bring,” I murmur against her head, pressing a kiss to her soft downy hair as I walk to the window.

Morning light spills over the sprawling city below, the low cloud clinging to the high-rises and church spires.

Mystical and ethereal, it’s both beautiful and creepy. There’s an eerie quietness, a stillness that only exists in these few hours before the city wakes.

---