Page 89 of Riot

The monster I should have known I’d never escape.

Who the fuck was that?

You don’t talk to anyone but me.

Stop being a prick-teasing bitch.

Link’s voice is loud over the screaming in my head.

The pounding against my ribs is so violent, so frantic, it feels like my heart is trying to claw out of my chest.

The phone buzzes again, and I open the message. It’s not a text this time, but an image.

The pink teddy bear is in the corner of my daughter’s cot. The same pink teddy bear I’d shoved in the back of my cupboard.

This was taken in my bedroom. In my daughter’s bedroom.

The horror seeing her bed, her safe place, on my phone in full fucking colour has my breath stuttering like an engine misfire. My skin tightens over my bones, too small, too claustrophobic.

They were in the apartment.

I blink the hazy film from my vision. A scream rises in my throat but is cut off by the invisible claws around my windpipe.

A thousand fire ants crawl over my skin as my lungs shrink. I can’t hear anything but the roaring of my pounding blood in my ears.

It beeps again, and I jolt. The phone slips through my fingers and hits the tiles like a gunshot exploding in the silence.

Shit.

I snatch it off the floor, and my stomach hollows. Cracks spiderweb across the dark screen and it doesn’t power up when I try.

What did the message say?

A noise, a creak… something out of place hits my senses like a hammer to the chest.

Seren…

Fuck. Seren!

Through the madness and crushing fear, I sprint. My fear is a living, breathing monster as I blast my way through the apartment, my only thought on reaching my child.

Seren’s lying where I left her, oblivious to the terror blanketing me. A split second of relief is all I have as I snatch her up, holding her to my chest.

Another sound pricks my senses. In the apartment? Outside? My brain is too overloaded to recognise anything other than fear.

I need to get us safe.

Adrenaline floods my body, giving me the strength to run.

I don’t stop to grab anything. I don’t even pull on my shoes. I drag open the apartment door and sprint to the stairs, clinging to my daughter.

Terror nips at my heels even when I make it out on the street. Danger feels close, and my heart is in my throat as I scan for threats.

People stare, and why wouldn’t they? I’m half dressed, panicked and holding a tiny baby.

I need to get to Riot.

He’ll keep me safe.

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