Page 41 of Riot

“It’ll be okay,” I lie. I don’t have a fucking clue if it’ll be okay. “I got you.”

I don’t know why I do it, but I press a kiss into Ivy’s hair as she trembles beneath me.

“Come on, baby. Time to go.”

Ivy doesn’t say a word in the lift or when I strap Seren into the car seat. The silence wraps around us, thick and heavy as I pull out of the space and drive towards the hospital.

“You doin’ okay?” I split my gaze between the road and her.

“No.” Seren continues to scream, and anxiety prickles along my skin. “Thank you for coming. It means everything that you did.”

Is she fucking crazy? “Darlin’, I’ll always come. That ain’t a question.”

Ivy lets out a sad, choked sob. “I’m sorry. I’m just not used to having people other than Maylie and Toby to rely on.”

My throat constricts to the point of pain, and I stare at the road, trying to choke down the anger I feel towards her father. He should have been there for his children, should have taken the burden off Maylie when his wife lay dying. Maylie shouldn’t have been eighteen and taking care of them, and Ivy shouldn’t have been eighteen and made a mother against her will.

I bite it all back. This ain’t the time or the place to think about this shit.

“You have people now,” I assure her. “You’ll never be alone again.”

She turns to me. “I know, but Riot, that works both ways. You have me too.”

EIGHT

IVY

My heart is being crushedin a vice as I hold my daughter against my chest. Her whimpers send agony spearing through me, and the rock in my stomach is so heavy, I feel sick.

As we step into A&E, Riot’s hand grounds me where it rests against the base of my spine.

There are people everywhere. The chairs in the waiting area are filled with rows of sick and injured, but I barely see them. My vision rolls, dizziness and panic making the air thin, but Riot steadies me.

He always does.

“We need help.”

I’m grateful Riot takes control because my mouth won’t work, neither will my brain. There is so much panic swirling through me that I can’t think about anything other than the little girl cradled in my arms.

The receptionist comes to her feet and beckons us through the door behind her workstation, and then we’re surrounded.

Medical staff fire questions at me I can’t make sense of. Then one of the nurses tries to take Seren from me.

Sticky fear floods my veins, and I bare my claws.

No. No.No.

No one is taking my daughter from me. I shield my child from this stranger, my heart racing so fast, my head swims.

“Just give us a second,” Riot says to her.

Then his large frame fills my vision, and he cups the side of my face with a rough hand. There is no sign of humour in his eyes, no sign of that dimple that entrances me as he dips his head closer to mine.

“I know you’re scared, Vee, but you gotta let them take care of her.”

Tears prick my eyes, every fibre of my being repelling the idea of letting her go.

“I can’t.”

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