Page 4 of SINS & Riley
“You two ever bump into each other? Maybe the two of chat? Spar?” I rub an infinity sign on my belly, fighting the tears. “Don’t kick his ass too hard, Da. He might just be the father of your grandchild.”
Before a riptide of tears completely drags me under, I let out a slow, steady breath in one word.
“Fuck.”
For a long while, I just sit. How can I rescue my baby if I can’t even rescue myself?
Worried fingers strum along my jeans. I’m about to have a freaking baby. How the fuck do I do this alone?
I suck in a breath and shift gears.
“Maybe the two of you don’t see each other at all.” I flick a small grain of dirt off a petal. “Da’s probably got magnificent wings while you’re downstairs roasting marshmallows on brimstone.”
My watch chimes. As much as I’d like to stomp it like a roach, I simply press the button and shut it off.
Three hours of freedom. That’s what I get for being good.
Freedom… in a graveyard. Not the classic definition of freedom, but when you’re a captive, you take what you can get.
My head falls against the cold marble slab. “You broke my heart, asshole.” My throat tightens. “Getting blown up? Seriously? Worst timing ever.”
I let out a breath.
“First I’m seduced by one monster—aka you. Now I’m owned by another.”
A tear slips down my cheek and dots the floor.
“I hate you,” I whisper. “Hate you for dying. For leaving me. For leaving… us.”
The watch dings again. I glare at it.
“Fuck, you’re annoying.”
Shit.
You’re going to be a mother, Riley. Try saying fudge. Like Kennedy used to.
“Fudge,” I mutter, the word tasting about as satisfying as kitty litter.
God, I need Kennedy. She’s the only family I have. “I can’t have a baby without my fudging sister?” I say aloud. “The little boogie monster’s gonna end up with a worse potty mouth than mine.”
When the chime pings a third time, I’m ready to throw it across the room.
Reluctantly, I shuffle to the door.
Fine.
Whatever.
This watch has one purpose in life. To annoy me to death with incessant reminders from Dominic. Yes. Heard you. Time’s almost up.
It does that and tell the time. But outgoing calls? Texts? Any real lifeline to the outside world?
Blocked.
Fudging fucking useless.
I hurry down the hall and slip back through the narrow gate opening. “Ow.” Rusted metal scrapes my skin.
