Page 70 of Blood & Throttle
I nod slowly. “That’s fair.”
Ghost looks over at me, something thoughtful in his expression.
“He acts like a machine,” Ghost says, staring straight ahead, “but he remembers everything. Every name. Every crew member who didn’t make it. Even the ones who probably didn’t deserve to be remembered.”
I glance over. “And he carries all that?”
“Hewearsit,” he says. “Like armor under the skin. You just can’t see the cracks unless you know where to look.”
We fall quiet again, the fog curling low around the containers like smoke from something long since burned out. The Graveyard hums around us—metal groans in the wind, somewhere distant a pipe bangs like a warning shot—but I don’t flinch.
Because for the first time, I see Riot the way they all do.
Not just the savage behind the wheel.
Not just the beast behind the scowl.
But the one whostands between the fire and the rest of us.
The one who guards the monsters because he knows what happens if no one does.
Ghost glances down at the cracked face of his old watch and sighs.
“You should get back. It’s past midnight. He’ll know.”
I snort. “Let him stew. I’m not afraid of Riot Carter.”
Ghost huffs a laugh, standing and dusting off his jeans. “You really shouldbe.”
I hop down beside him, smirking. “I’ve dealt with worse.”
He flashes that rare, crooked grin. “Yeah. But I don’t thinkworseever wanted toownyou.”
The walk back is silent.
But not easy.
Ghost doesn’t speak, just shoves his hands deeper into his hoodie and keeps his eyes on the cracked pavement. Like he doesn’t want to be part of what’s coming but already knows how it’s gonna end.
Me?
I’m not scared. Not really.
But my pulse is steady andloud, and my feet start dragging a little the closer we get.
And then I see him.
Leaning in the doorway like he wascarvedthere—arms folded, face shadowed, one boot planted against the frame like the concrete was holding him back.
Riot.
That swing-light overhead paints him in flashes—rage, restraint, andsomething else. Something worse.
Ghost slows, mutters, “Sin—”
“I got it,” I say, jaw tight.
“You sure?”
