Page 7 of Riot

“No, but I’m too old to share with my brother.” I raise a brow at him, and he scoffs. “You’re different.”

“How? I’m sharing with my entire family.”

“Because, Vee, you’re barely an adult, and you just had a baby.”

He reduces me to two feet tall with just those words.Face it, he’s never going to see you as anything other than Maylie’s little sister.

Why do I hold on to this hope that he will? He has his pick of women, and I’ll bet the girls he fucks aren’t as broken as me.

“Hey…” He hooks a finger under my chin, and suddenly, everything feels too big, too raw. Don’t cry.Fuck, don’t cry.His face crumples. “Shit. I’m an idiot. Forget whatever I said to upset you.”

“It’s just the hormones.” The lie burns my tongue. “I’m sorry.”

His finger stays under my chin, his gaze scanning my face. He doesn’t believe me, and it’s times like this that I hate how easily he reads me.

“You’re right, though.” I clear my throat, pulling away from him. “I’m an adult and I can’t live on my sister’s charity forever. I need to think about mine and Seren’s future.”

Whatever that looks like.

A ripple of anxiety spreads through me. I don’t want to live alone. I like having my siblings around, but Maylie deserves to be free of me and Toby. The burden of taking care of us shouldn’t be a life sentence.

“May’s looked after you for the last four years. You expect her to stop doing that just ‘cause you turned eighteen?”

She’d lose her shit if she heard me talking like this, but he’s right?—

I am too old to live with my sister.

“No, but?—”

“No buts.” His tone is firm. “Family takes care of each other, darlin’. And you ain’t in a position to be independent without makin’ life harder than it needs to be. Let people take care of you.”

It’s meant to be sweet, but it leaves a sticky, ugly feeling behind. “I don’t want to be carried.”

“You’re not. You’re focusin’ on what matters—raisin’ Seren. Just because I don’t want to live with my brother doesn’t mean it’s wrong for you.”

He steps away, leaving a cold ache behind. I hate the pity in his eyes and the sympathy I don’t deserve.

“You’re burning the food.” My words are terse, my helplessness coming out as anger. My emotions are pinballing today, and I hate it. It makes me feel out of control.

He swings back to the frying pan, dragging it off the heat with a curse. “Shit.”

“Do you need some help?” It smells awful.

“No,” he waves me off, “I got this.”

We slip into a comfortable silence while he serves up the food. I raise my brow as he slides the plate in front of me. It’s a decent attempt at a full English breakfast, even with the bacon being almost charcoal.

“This looks good.”

“Why do you sound so surprised? I can cook.”

“I know.” I pick up my fork in my free hand, holding Seren tight with the other, and cut awkwardly into the sausage.

Riot watches me for a second before he says, “Pass her here.”

“I can eat and hold her,” I protest. “I’ve become pretty good at that.”

“I know you can.” He flashes his fingers in a ‘give me’ motion. “Your food’s goin’ cold.”

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