Page 85 of Riot

Nicky stiffens suddenly, his eyes locked on the window into the bar area. I follow his gaze to see Blade inside talking with Grub.

My instincts prick, the fine hairs on the back of my neck rising again as I lock my eyes onto them. This shit needs to end. I hate not knowing who to trust.

“You think they’re both workin’ to undermine the club?” I ask, curious to hear Nicky’s answer.

“I don’t know,” he admits. “My gut says yeah, but a gut feeling ain’t enough to condemn a man.”

“And Dash?”

“I want to believe he meant what he said,” he says, “but I don’t trust anyone outside of you and Mace.”

I feel the same, but Dash seemed sincere, and I want to trust him. I have to believe there’s still something worth fighting for here.

“Keep your eyes open, Riot, and watch your back. Shit’s gettin’ dicey.”

“You too,” I say, watching as he walks off, and that heavy pit in my stomach seems worse than ever.

I head out an hour later with Diesel to do some pick-ups. He’s my least favourite brother to be around, mostly because he barely talks and skulks around like a fucking creep. Usually that bothers me, but today, I’m glad it’s him and not King or Riley.

In the silence that yawns between us, I let myself get lost in thoughts of Ivy, and for the first time in my life, I ain’t scared of settling down.

SEVENTEEN

IVY

I humunder my breath as I get my daughter ready for the day. My heart feels lighter than it has in a long time, as if that kiss lifted the heavy weight from my chest.

I had no idea it could feel like this. For months, I’ve tried to drag myself out of the dark hole I was tossed into, and Riot pulled me out with one kiss.

I’m not fixed, but the pieces are a little stronger now.

The way he felt against my lips, the way I slept in his arms without the nightmares… everything just feels easier today.

Like I can breathe for the first time.

My phone beeps, and I keep one hand on my daughter’s belly as I reach for it.

Maybe it’s Riot.

I miss him already, and although I was the one who suggested we keep this quiet—only long enough for us to catch our breath—I can’t wait until I can openly be his.

I open the message, and the smile drops from my face, followed by a torrent of terror.

Unknown

You didn’t thank me for the flowers.

Unknown

I didn’t realise you were such a rude bitch.

Unknown

I picked those out specifically with you in mind, Ivy.

I stare at the messages, my scalp tingling as the ice turns solid in my veins. The sinister undertones are barely hidden beneath the clear threat in the words.

My vision wobbles, becoming hazy until I can barely see, and I realise that because I’m crying.

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