Page 89 of Riot

Didn’t try nothin’. Didn’t even entertain the thought. I just pulled the covers up over her, brushed her hair off her cheek, and slid in beside her.

I watched the ceiling for a while after that. My mind running in all directions, business, the Boaz case, my mother. But mostly, it was her. Allure. How the hell she managed to make this place feel like peace when everything else in my life was chaos.

And just when I started to drift… it happened again.

The dream.

Same one, same damn script.

I saw myself sliding the knife across Malia’s throat, her eyes wide with disbelief as blood gathered at her skin like a slow bloom. She just stared at me, like she couldn’t believe I was the one holding the blade. My hand wouldn’t stop, like I’d lost control of my own body, like the violence was moving through me instead of from me.

In the background, my father laughed. That deep, guttural sound echoing through the dark. He clapped, proud and unbothered, his voice slicing through the air.

“That’s my boy,” he said, over and over, louder each time, until it was no longer his voice I heard.

It was mine. “Fuck!”

I jolted upright, chest heaving, drenched in sweat.

My fists were clenched, my jaw locked so tight it hurt.

Allure stirred beside me. “Riot?” she whispered, voice thick with sleep. She reached for me, her fingers brushing my shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m fine,” I muttered, swinging my legs over the side of the bed.

But I wasn’t. I wasn’t even close.

The sweat was cold on my back. My heart still jackhammering. I could feel the rage trying to claw its way up my throat like bile. That dream always left me fucked up. Shaky. Off-balance.

She moved behind me, her arms circling my waist as she rested her cheek against my back. No questions. No pressure. Just warmth. Contact. Breath.

And something in me… cracked.

I wanted to pull away. I hated feeling weak. Hated being witnessed like this. I wasn’t used to being held. I was the one who held other people up, not the other way around.

But I didn’t move.

Because despite everything in me screaming to shut it down, I felt safe. With her. I felt like I could breathe again.

I let my hand drop over hers. Held it there.

No words passed between us. But her presence said enough.

I was more afraid now than I’d ever been.

Because this girl? She was seeing the real me

And I was starting to let her.

Chapter 28

HAVOC

When I walked into the office, Creed and Riot were already deep in conversation. I caught the tail end of something. “We’ll handle it after work,” Creed said, voice low but clipped. Riot nodded, arms folded, his posture wound tight with purpose.

But the second they saw me, they clammed up.

Like I wasn’t supposed to hear whatever the hell that was.

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