Page 28 of Riot

I fucking like Ivy.

Fuck.Me.

SIX

IVY

I didn’t dreamlast night. Maybe it was exhaustion, maybe it was luck, but I didn’t wake with that dread in my gut.

It’s a change. My nightmares don’t usually take days off. They drag me through the gates of hell, nails sunk deep, while I claw at the dirt.

I’m grateful, though, because I’d been running on fumes. Bone-deep exhaustion had wrapped around me like a fist, and what’s worse is I’ve been walking a knife’s-edge because Riot’s been gone.

Four days. Four long, cruel, endless days.

I’ve replayed every word I said to him in the park and in the days before that, but I can’t pinpoint the moment I lost him.

The moment I chased him away.

You’re worthless. Of course, he doesn’t want to be around you.

The longer he’s gone, the more I feel like I’m coming out of my skin. I see danger everywhere, monsters under the bed, behind doors. The illusion of safety has shattered, and I’m drowning in its wreckage.

But more than all of that… I miss him.

Fuck, Ineedhim, and that’s not fair. He’s not my emotional support crutch.

He’s my friend.

No…he’s so much more than that. My heart stutters whenever I think about him, even if he doesn’t feel the same.

Even if he never feels the same.

I leave Seren sleeping in her cot. She was restless most of the night, probably picking up on my mood, and I know I should nap while I can, but I need coffee and food more than I need sleep.

The apartment is silent as I drift down the hallway like a ghost. As I pass the living room, movement stops me dead.

Riot’s sprawled on the sofa, his eyes closed, but it’s his face that steals my breath.

A patchwork of bruises stains his cheeks and jaw in shades of yellow, brown, and purple.

It’s been four days since I saw him, and now, I know why.

He’s hurt.

No, not hurt. He’s battered.

The cavernous pit in my stomach caves in, devouring the terror raging inside me. I can’t stop staring at his puffy left eye and the cut bisecting his lip.

Dread coils like poison in my veins as I map every injury I can see.

How did this happen?

It’s not the first time Riot has turned up beat to hell, but this?

He’s never been this bruised before.

Sensing my presence, he lifts his head and our eyes lock, like we’re being pulled by an invisible thread. Every bone in my body turns to liquid under his gaze, and my heart races like a train with no brakes.

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