Page 118 of Riot

Creed shifted beside Riot, his arms crossed tight. “How long until we know?”

“We expedited everything. Should have a full report within the next 48 hours.” The doctor glanced at Sloane, then back to Riot. “But I’d prepare yourselves. Even if it hasn’t metastasized, it’s aggressive. Her markers are high. Treatment’s possible. She’ll need chemo, radiation, but she’d need to be onboard.”

“She won’t be,” Riot said flatly, jaw clenched. “She don’t trust no one with a white coat.”

The doctor hesitated. “Then we’ll have to discuss other options. Palliative care. Maybe clinical trials. But that’s a conversation for another day. Right now, she’s stable and resting comfortably. We’ll monitor her and keep you updated.”

He gave a tight nod and turned to leave, coat billowing behind him.

Silence followed.

Creed was the first to speak. “You were right.”

Riot didn’t respond. Just stood there, staring past the wall like he was watching something only he could see. Maybe it was the past. Maybe it was the future. Either way, he looked like he wanted to fight something he couldn’t punch.

Sloane placed a hand on Creed’s shoulder and murmured something I couldn’t hear. He nodded, then rubbed the back of his neck and looked at his brother.

“You good?” Creed asked.

Riot didn’t look away from the wall. “Nah.”

Creed didn’t push. Just stood there with him, a quiet wall of support.

I slipped my hand into Riot’s. He didn’t flinch. Just looked down, eyes glassy but sharp.

“I’m here,” I said softly. “Whatever you need.”

His grip tightened around mine, then he exhaled through his nose like he was letting something dark out with it.

“Let’s go home,” he said.

And when I nodded, he didn’t let go.

Chapter 40

RIOT

We got home just after midnight.

Creed and Sloane peeled off in his Benz, quiet and heavy with everything unsaid. Allure stayed close to me the whole ride, didn’t ask questions, didn’t offer false hope. She just sat there, her hand on my thigh like it was holding the pieces of me together.

I didn’t say shit when we walked in the door. Just locked it behind us, dropped my keys on the console, and pulled her into my chest.

I didn’t realize I’d been holding my breath until I felt her against me. Something in her scent smoothed out the rage in my blood.

She tilted her head, eyes searching mine.

“You okay?” she asked softly.

No. Not even close.

But I wasn’t gonna bleed all over her with words. I just needed the kind of silence only she could give me. The kind that felt like home.

I walked her backward to the bedroom without a sound. And she followed, just like that. Trusting me to lead. Trusting me to need her without having to explain how or why.

Once we were inside, I sat on the edge of the bed, hands hanging between my knees. I didn’t even take off my boots yet. My mind was still back there—Saint Michael’s, the pale look on the doc’s face, the thought of chemo and rust lining those halls.

Allure knelt between my legs without a word.

---