Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 63608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Focused. Furious. Deadly.
He’d said it softly, but the words rattled through me.
“Someone’s gotta bleed before sunrise.”
I don’t want him walking into danger alone.
I don’t want to lose him again.
I don’t want my memories to be the only pieces of him I have left.
But I don’t know how to tell him that without sounding unhinged.
My brain is still rewriting the map of my life every few hours. But my heart? It feels certain of him in ways I can't explain.
A sharp metallic slam jolts me back to reality.
I whip around.
The steel door shifts and Riot steps back inside.
He's soaked with rain, shaking it off with a rough exhale. His jaw is tight, eyes darting toward the far corner of the room where I’m standing as if drawn by instinct.
His gaze pins me in place.
“You didn’t sit,” he says quietly.
“I couldn’t,” I whisper.
Then he crosses the room.
Slow. Measured. Predatory.
But not toward danger. Toward me.
He stops inches away.
“You alright?” he murmurs.
No.
Yes.
Absolutely not.
Completely.
I settle on, “I’m trying.”
His chest rises and falls. “You did good earlier. In the truck.”
“I didn’t do anything,” I say.
A rough sound escapes him something between disbelief and frustration. “You stayed calm. You trusted me. You listened.”
“Shouldn’t I?” I ask softly.
He drops his gaze for a moment, shaking his head.
“You shouldn’t trust anybody right now,” he mutters. “Not with what’s happenin’. Not with what you’ve been through.”
I step closer not much, but enough. Enough for him to feel me. Enough for me to feel my own pulse pounding in my neck.
“But I do trust you,” I say. “More than I understand.”
His eyes close briefly, pained.
“Kelly.”
“I meant what I said,” I whisper. “I’m choosing you. Even if I don’t know the whole story. Even if I don’t know myself.”
His inhale is sharp.
“I remember pieces,” I say cautiously. “Not full memories just fragments. Feelings. Flashes.”
He lifts his head. “What kind of flashes?”
I lean back against a metal support beam, fingers gripping it behind me.
“One was in a doorway,” I say. “You were holding me. And I told you not to fall in love with me.”
His face goes still.
Haunted.
Beautiful.
“And you said it was too late,” I continue, heart thudding.
He steps closer again, slowly, every movement careful. “That night was real.”
“I know,” I whisper. “I felt it. I can feel it again if I let myself.”
His eyes drop to my mouth, then drag back up, dark and intense and hungry. “Don’t say that unless you mean it.”
“I do mean it,” I breathe. “I’m remembering you.”
He swallows hard. “You remember the good. Wait until you remember the bad.”
“What bad?” I challenge softly.
Lightning flashes outside the small, narrow windows lining the upper walls. The power flickers. Riot tenses.
“Riot,” I say firmly. “What bad?”
His jaw grinds. “I walked away from you.”
My chest tightens. “Because you didn’t want me?”
“No,” he growls instantly — violently. “Because I wanted you too damn much.”
The room goes electric.
I blink. “Then why—”
“Because I thought wantin’ you meant I’d break you,” he says, voice shaking with something I don’t think he realizes he's revealing. “Because the club pulls danger like gravity. Because you deserved easy and I’m not easy. Because once I realized what I felt, it scared the shit out of me.”
My breath catches.
“So you left?” I whisper.
He looks away. “No. We made a choice. Together. I should have been man enough to say all the things I didn’t. Instead I let you think you could push me away, shut me out, even when it was written all over your face, your body, that you had already fallen.”
The words hit like an echo something familiar and painful.
A memory flickers.
Me standing at the bakery counter.
Riot on the other side.
His face tight, unreadable.
My heart breaking quietly.
The smell of flour and sugar and the feelings of hurt.
I gasp. My knees buckle.
Riot lunges forward, hands gripping my arms instantly. “What? What’d you see?”
“The bakery,” I whisper, breath trembling. “We were arguing. You said you couldn’t give me something. And I felt like I couldn’t breathe.”
He flinches like I physically struck him.
“Yeah,” he rasps. “That happened.”
“And we stopped seeing each other?” I whisper.
“No,” he says. “We stopped pretending.”
A tear slips down my cheek.
He wipes it instantly, thumb trembling as he does.
“It was the worst timing in the world,” he murmurs. “Hours later you were on that road. And I—” His voice breaks. He leans forward, forehead brushing mine, shaking. “You woke up and didn’t know me,” he whispers. “And I deserved it.”
My heart fractures.
I grip his shirt, pulling him closer without thinking. “No. No, you didn’t.”
He exhales shakily, hands sliding down my arms.
There is a noise, a grinding of sorts. One that takes us away from our thoughts.
Riot’s entire body goes lethal.
“Stay here,” he growls, grabbing his gun.
“No!” I lunge for him. “Don’t run out there again! What if,”
He grabs my shoulders not harshly, but firmly, steadying me. “Kelly,” he murmurs, eyes burning into mine, “I have to check the perimeter. It is probably just my brothers closing in to back me up.”