Page 38 of Riot

The fuck they’re not. I sat with Ivy during those midnight feeds. I helped her change Seren when they first came home. I watched movies until she was was too exhausted to stay awake.

I’m the one who has been there.

Jason or Jensen—whatever his fucking name is—doesn’t get to slide in and play the hero now.

Not when she looked so scared.

I grind my molars together, huffing a breath.

Jason needs to learn how to read the room. She was clearly uncomfortable, and he either didn’t notice or didn’t care. Both scenarios make want to smash his teeth down his throat.

She doesn’t think someone can love her?

Her sister and brother adore her. Even Mace loves her, and the list of people he gives a shit about is in the single digits.

Iloveher.

I loveher.

Fuck.

I wince at the reverberation of the music and swallow my already frayed temper. The old me would’ve lived for this nonstop party bullshit. Now? It just grates on my last nerve.

There are things I want more, and I hate how bad I want them.

I’d give anything to be in my brother’s apartment right now, or even at my place. The clubhouse no longer feels like home, but my brother’s family does.

Ivy and Seren do.

For the first time since I took the patch, I fucking resent the job I’m doing for Nic and the Sons. He wanted boots on the ground, and I’d agreed. Why wouldn’t I? I had no ties back then, no idea how important certain people were going to become in my life.

Cleaning up the chapter is how we build a better future. But getting Crank out the door, Grub on his fucking heels, is a challenge. Our President and Vice President still have support, which fucking baffles me. In the few years since they took over, the pair of them have destroyed the legacy left behind by Nicky’s dad and grandad.

And that makes my blood boil.

When I first joined the Sons, brother meant something, loyalty was guaranteed, and I trusted every single patched member of this club with my life.

Now, the only people I’d let watch my back are Nicky, Mace, and myself.

One day, things will be different. I have to believe that. We can turn it around, and I take great pleasure in knowing Crank’s time here is numbered.

Oh, you’re going to fall hard, you fuckin’ prick.

All the people we lost, all the shit we had to do to keep the peace, will be worth it when Nic sits at the head of that table, the gavel in his hand and my brother at his right-hand side.

I can imagine Ivy sitting at the bar, Seren tearing around our feet with Mace and Maylie’s kid. I can picture Toby learning to ride, and all the family parties we’d have here.

Chaos wrapped and packaged in laughter and fucking happiness.

But they ain’t stepping foot inside this building until it’s safe.

The noise grows louder, and it’s like a toothpick jammed under my nails.Fuck this.I get out of bed, pull my kutte on overtop my hoodie, then grab my wallet, keys, and phone.

When I step inside the common room, my body snaps to attention, but outwardly, I’m relaxed. My jaw flexes at the sight of Chloe Winters riding Crank like she’s auditioning to be a fucking porn star.

If Sandy saw her daughter like this, she’d burn this place to the ground, and I’d hand her the fucking petrol can.

She’s an adult, yeah, but this ain’t right. Everyone knows her dad is someone in this club, and watching that shithead treat her like she’s a convenient hole feels like spitting on the patch.

---