Page 66 of Riot Reunion
“He was determined to make me submit to him. Wanted me to surrender. Wanted me to give in.” Wren’s cool jade eyes study me with a fierce intensity. “You know me by now, Little E?” he asks.
“I know you,” I affirm. Nothing has ever been truer. My voice might be low, almost whispered, but it’s confident. Firm.
“Then tell me,” he says. “How many people have I ever given into? How many people have ever coaxed me into submission?”
I smile because the answer to this question is easy. A guy like Wren, fired by determination and anger, and a blade-sharp focus, cannot be bent into submission. There’s no way to force the likes of Wren Jacobi to his knees. He has to gowillingly. He has towantthe reprieve. Only a quiet, burning, bottomless love can give the likes of Riot House’s dark lord the room or the peace to lay down his weapons and rest.
“One.”
The word steals the air between us. For a second, a proud fire burns in Wren's eyes, a curtain drawing back to unveil a staggering wall of emotion that, while permanently simmering, churning, always burning, is usually hidden from the watchful eyes of others. He reveals it to me now to underpin the importance of his words as he says, “That’s fucking right. Onlyeverone.”
The intensity of our eye contact would make an outsider blush and look away. After a long time, Wren breathes in, his chest rising sharply; the weight of our temporarily paused conversation pulls tension back into the room. “He wanted to win me over. For me to crave him as much as he craved me,” he continues. “In his mind, he wouldn’t have accomplished that until I submitted to him sexually.” He shrugs. “I never did.”
“And…you think that’s why he’s still so fixated on you now? Because he still wants…” I can’t say it. Can’t put it into words myself. “You think he still wants to win you over?”
“Fitz is insane. He thinks the world owes him whatever the fuck he wants. I didn’t give him what he wanted. I only taunted him with it. Made him want it more. I treated it all like a game. And when I got bored, he didn’t like that I stopped playing. I should have paid closer attention. If I had, I might have been able to see all of this coming.” He sighs, running a finger along my forearm, looking thoughtful. “Mara was annoying as hell. She didn’t know when to quit either, but I’d never have wished her dead. If I’d been a little more mindful of what was going on, maybe she wouldn’t have wound up rotting on that stone plinth for over a year before we found her fucking body.”
He can’t lay this at his own feet. He can’t. Wren’s reputation for being cold and vicious wasn’t unearned. The stories I heard about him when I first joined Wolf Hall were frankly terrifying. But no one understands this side of him. No one’s seen it. No one knows that beneath the granite smooth, impenetrable exterior Wren presents to the world, he’s capable of remorse, even when it's unjustified. “It isn’t your fault,” I tell him. “You’re absolutely right. Fitzisinsane. He couldn’t have been reasoned with. He would have hurt someone here eventually. Gauging from his past…all those girls he killed in Texas…” I recoil from the thought. “There’s no doubting it. He’d have killed someone at Wolf Hall eventually. It’s an addiction for men like him.”
Wren glows with quiet rage. “If I could go back, I’d change it. I’d have beaten the shit out of him in that gazebo. Forced him to leave the academy. I could have had him fired on the spot, the way he propositioned me. I was just fucking bored and figured it would be entertaining to see what happened. Look at where that’s gotten me. Gotten all of us. Dash and Pax are perfectly capable of taking care of themselves. Butyouended up in that cave the night we threw that party. You could have beenkilled.”
“But I wasn’t. It’s that simple. They’re going to find Fitz, and they’re gonna put him back in jail. This bullshit appeal of his will come to nothing, and he will never see the light of day again. It’s all gonna work out just fine. You and I are going back to Cambridge. We’re gonna kill it at college, and then we’re going to enjoy building a life together. Very soon, all of this will be nothing more than a bad memory.”
Wren toys with my fingers, his head bowed. “I know,” he says firmly. “You’re right.” But he doesn’t believe it. I’d be able to feel his crushing doubt from a mile away.
22
CARRIE
The numberof times I tried to sneak around this house? Damn. Too many times to count. The fear of being spotted by Wren or Pax used to have my heart thumping in the base of my throat, half suffocating me to death. It’s weird to walk through Riot House so boldly now, not caring if any of Dash’s ornery roommates are aware of my presence. Weirder still to know, not only are girls no longer an issue within these hallowed walls, but Wren and Pax also have their own girlfriends here, too. My best friends.
Things have certainly changed.
As I climb the second flight of stairs, I spy something unusual out of the expansive wall of windows to the front of the house: a bright flash of light flickering in the sky as the laden rain clouds part for half a second. It’s Sirius. The Dog Star. The brightest star in the night sky. Part of the Canis Major constellation. The Romans used to believe Sirius was an ill omen. They would sacrifice dogs whenever it seemed to make a particularly auspicious appearance on the horizon. They’d have a fucking fit if they could see it now. It isn’t uncommon to see stars in the sky during the daytime, especially in winter, but today Sirius seems to loom menacingly, its’ light a littletoobright.
In the distance, as if right on cue, a lone, eerie howl can be heard even through the double-insulated windows. Not a dog, of course. Somewhere out there, the wolves Dash used to see flitting through the woods all of the time are still out there, pale as ghosts, prowling the mountain, searching for their next meal.
I give myself a shake when I reach Pax Davis’s bedroom door. Pax has never been friendly toward me. Toward anyone that I can think of, actually. His brand of friendship can only be described as veiled hostility at the best of times, even when he’s interacting with Wren and Dash. I wouldn’tdareknock on his bedroom door under normal circumstances, but recently something has shifted. I’ve seen the way he treats Presley. I’ve seen the way he looks at her. Any man who looks at a girl that way can’t beallevil.
I knock, bracing against the door frame, mentally prepping myself for the tirade of abuse I’m about to endure. Only, when Pax answers the door, he doesn’t spit venom at me. He grabs me by the shoulder and lets out a relieved, “Oh, it’s you. ThankGod,” and drags me into his room.
I nearly swallow my tongue. “Whoa. Jeez. Damn. I—” I wish I didn’t sputter so much when I’m on the back foot. The room is kind of messy but nowhere near as bad as I thought it was going to be. I can see most of the floor. In fact, turning a little to take Pax’s domain in, I find that it’s actually pretty orderly. Aside from the multitude of photographs tacked to the walls and piled in precarious stacks on every available surface, that is.
Presley sits in the bed, wrapped in a duvet, and—oh—oh shit—is shenaked? Did I just interrupt something? As I approach, I see with distinct relief that, no, she’s fully dressed beneath the blankets. The ‘Slayer’hoody she’s wearing looks like it belongs to Davis. The guy who made an Olympic sport out of ignoring Pres once upon a time paces up and down, stabbing his fingers through hair that doesn’t exist; I get the feeling that, if his head weren’t shaved, he’d be tearing it out by the root.
“Tell her.” He turns ferocious eyes on me.
“Tell her what?”
“She’s been puking all morning, and now that she feels better, she won’t eat anything.”
“I don’t wanna eat anythingbecauseI feel better,” Chase says hotly from her duvet nest. “The second I put something in my stomach, it’ll bounce right back out again. And that sucks, Pax. It really sucks. So what’s the fucking point?”
“The point is that you’re gonna wind up in the hospital, Chase!”
Well, shit. I never imagined that I’d find myself feeling sorry for Pax Davis. Not in this lifetime. Exasperation bleeds from his words as he stalks to the bed, folding his arms across his chest. “I’ve already dragged your ass inside a hospital once, Presley Maria Witton Chase. Don’t think I’m above doing it again. You’ll be sorely mistaken.”
Who…whoisthis man? I don’t recognize him. It strikes me with a strange and sudden clarity that I don’t know him at all. Presley is acting like a stranger, too. She sets her jaw, glaring defiantly at Pax. “You’re not dragging me anywhere. I’ll eat when I’m good and ready. Now if you could please give me a minute, I’d love to catch up with my friend. I haven’t seen her in ages, and—”
