Page 87 of Riot

I’m going to need descriptions. Pictures. A sample. Does he have single biker friends who like to fuck and chuck? I don’t need a clinger.

I didn’t think I could ever let a man back into my life, but Riot’s different. He’s home. He’s safety. He’s… the missing half of me. He is my safe harbour in a storm.

Time to steer the conversation out the gutter.

One minute he was ranting about the flowers, and then his mouth was on mine.

Dayna

You’re going to need to tell us every single dirty detail of what went down. Immediately.

So, I do. Not that there are many dirty details, but I give them everything. Every whisper of touch over my skin, every brush over my lips, every heated murmur in my ear. I tell them how I fell asleep on him and how we woke together.

Their excitement and joy at my happiness is beautiful, real, authentic, and I end the conversation feeling whole.

By midmorning, Maylie and Mace have gone out, and Toby’s at school, so the apartment feels quiet.

It’s rare we’re completely alone, but for once, the silence isn’t suffocating. I can feel Riot’s presence in the living room, on the couch where we slept together, in the very bones of the apartment.

Things can never go back to what they were. There’s my life before Riot, and this will be a whole new chapter.

I keep busy, cleaning, doing laundry, taking care of Seren, and I’m contemplating what to make for lunch when my phone beeps.

Riot

Hey, beautiful girl. You and Seren okay?

I alight under those words. Beautiful. He isn’t saying it to be kind, but because he truly thinks it. I do feel it in my soul.

The princess is sleeping. I’m fine. Miss you.

Riot

Miss you too, baby. I got some shit to finish up at the clubhouse and then I’ll come back to you.

Those words, those assurances, soothe the pieces of my soul that never thought I’d trust or love again. I don’t know why he wants me, what he sees in me, but I’m not going to question it.

The intercom buzzes, loud and obnoxious. It shatters the peace so abruptly, it’s like hitting a brick wall at a hundred miles per hour.

May’s been ordering so much baby stuff lately, so deliveries aren’t out of the ordinary, but for some reason, goosebumps prickle along my skin as I stand.

I make sure my daughter is safe before I make my way through the apartment. The front door looms in front of me, and I roll onto the balls of my feet to peer through the peephole.

I recognise the man on the other side. He delivers regularly to our block, so I pull it open with a smile.

“Hey.”

“Delivery for Fernsby.”

He bends down and propped against the wall is a bouquet of flowers double the size of the last one.

I take them awkwardly from the guy and shut the door behind me. They’re beautiful. The blooms are a splash of colour against the paper wrapped around the stems, and they smell gorgeous.

I know Riot is the jealous type, but of course he would buy flowers to stick it to Jackson, and they would be twice the size.

Laying them on the kitchen counter, I grab the card tucked inside the stems and open the envelope.

But there’s nothing written on the card.

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