Page 186 of SINS & Riley
Apparently, they’re trying to stop him, but he’s still dragging the IV stand and Igor-gimping after me.
Shit. He’s going to hurt himself.
Oh my God, Riley, why do you care?
Ugh. Because I do.
“Stop following me!” I shout.
“I will never stop.” His voice echoes down the hall, practically rattling the windows.
And there he is—mask or no mask, possessive alpha-hole has arrived in full swing.
He stands taller now, chest puffed, eyes blazing.
“I’ll never stop following you, stalking you, hunting you down. You are mine, Riley.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Really? Because you sat at my grave every single day, pledging your undying devotion. Or don’t you remember that?”
Dillon materializes at my side, flashing his brother every universal symbol for shut the fuck up.
Tears blur my vision.
My throat burns. “You don’t get it, Dante—or Zver—or whatever the fuck your name is. I’d rather be chained to a ghost who told me the truth than a liar cowering at my feet.”
Helpless, he casts out one last lifeline. “I love you.”
I throw it back in his face. “But you didn’t trust me enough to love you.”
I sprint down the hall.
Dillon catches me before I can collapse against the wall. I can’t tell if it’s my blood pressure tanking or just the weight of our argument crushing me.
His arms steady me, his gaze flicking from my tear-streaked face to Dante’s staggering form—dragging the IV stand like some undead zombie who just refuses to quit.
“Please, don’t go,” Dillon says, voice low, pleading. “Pick any bedroom you want—clear on the other side of the house, no questions asked. You’re carrying our niece or nephew. Let us take care of you. Just… tell me what you need.”
Exhausted. Defeated. I give him one request.
“Keep that asshole away from me.”
60
DANTE
Journal Entry | Dante
I fucked up.
End of story.
61
RILEY
I snap the journal shut, pen still clutched in my hand.
