Page 61 of Riot

I head out to my bike and pause at the side of it, scrubbing a hand over my jaw. I need to talk to my brother.

Shit between us has been awkward since the hospital, and I know I should fucking have it out with him to clear the air, but I’m still too pissed.

You can see Ivy while you’re there.

It’s only been a few hours since I was at the apartment, but it feels like a hundred lifetimes have dawned during that time.

And there may be a point where she never wants to see you again.

The ride over doesn’t settle me in the way being on my bike usually does. I don’t know if it’s Dash’s confession, the shit with my brother, or that deep burning guilt over Ivy, but my skin prickles when I pull into the parking area.

I take my time as I head up in the lift to their floor, and by the time I reach the front door, I’m vibrating with tension.

Peering along the corridor, I pause before I find my balls and rap my knuckles on the frame. It feels like it takes an eternity before the door swings open and my brother’s standing there.

His gaze roams over me for a second, as if looking for missing limbs or blood, then he steps back to let me in.

I wait as he closes the door behind me, like I’m a guest with no idea where I’m meant to go.So much for behaving normally.

“You okay?” Mace asks, eyeing me with a healthy dose of both suspicion and confusion.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You’re being weird.”So much for avoiding confrontation.“You’ve been weird for days. Is this about what I said?”

There’s no answer I can give him that isn’t gonna make me sound like a fucking pussy, so I hold my tongue, waiting for him to continue.

“Nate.”

“No.”Yes.

“I was out of order. I’m sorry.”

I raise a brow at him. “You’re apologising?”

He scowls at me. “I can say sorry when I’m wrong. And I was wrong for making you feel like you don’t belong here. I ain’t sorry about the other stuff though.”

About keeping secrets from Ivy.

“Of course you’re not.”

He drops his voice low, glancing behind him to make sure we’re alone. “I love that girl like she’s my own blood,” he says, “but she can’t know.”

“I ain’t pissed about that.”

“Then what?”

“It doesn’t matter. That ain’t why I’m here. Dash came to talk to me.”

My brother narrows his gaze. His trust in anyone wearing a Birmingham rocker is even worse than mine right now. “About what?”

I scrub a hand over my jaw, not bothering to hide how I feel about this. “He wants to transfer out of Birmingham.”

I can tell I’ve shocked him, that he didn’t expect this.

I lean back against the wall, the weight on my shoulders feeling heavier than it ever has. “Turns out we’re not the only ones who are pissed-off at the status quo.”

I let the words hang between us, let him understand what I’m saying without breaking it down for him. His eyes locked to mine, I wonder what the hell he’s thinking. “He tell you that?”

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