CHAPTER 25
Riven
RUNRUNRUN - Dutch Melrose
Every fiber of my being screams that I’m trapped in some fucked-up horror movie.
A hand appears first, and next a head follows.
I’d recognize that hair anywhere.
My fear evaporates in an instant, melting into a rage so intense that the fire suddenly seems cold by comparison.
“What the actual fuck, Evren?!” I shout.
His head turns slowly, like a predator that’s finally spotted its prey.
“You.” He steps out of the bathroom and slams the door shut behind him. The bang echoes throughout the loft. “Are ignoring me.”
I raise an eyebrow.
Is he serious? He’s breaking in again for that?
“So what?” I cross my arms. “Did you really think I’d be all over you, sending messages like we’re some fucking happy couple?”
A dark, condescending chuckle escapes me.
“Don’t be so full of yourself, you damn freak,” I say, my voice sharp and cold. I wave my uninjured hand dismissively. “You’re nothing to begin with. You’ve got nothing special. If I don’t want to answer you, that’s my—”
He moves too fast for me to react.
One second, he’s across the room.
The next, his hand is cupping my face while the other clamps around my hip, wrenching me forward until I’m pressed against the hard planes of his chest.
The words die in my throat.
I feel the heat radiating from his body. Feel the strength in the hand gripping my hip.
My heart stumbles into a faster rhythm.
“Keep telling yourself that.”
He leans in, his eyes glowing with an unhinged light.
As his breath brushes against mine, he grips my jaw and tilts my face upward, his fingers digging into my cheeks to make me look at him.
His voice drops a few octaves, turning rough and dangerous.
“But we both know the truth.” His grip tightens. “I’m haunting you. Every fucking second.”
Heat floods my face with rage and disgust. The sheer audacity of him.
“You’re really full of yourself,” I snap.
I spit in his face. The saliva strikes his cheek and slowly trails down his skin.
He recoils slightly, maybe from surprise.
“Oh.”
He straightens to his full height, looming over me. His eyes seem to glow even brighter as a slow, crooked smile spreads across his face.
The sight of it sends a flicker of unease through me, making me feel small despite myself.
“So that's how you like it? Rough, huh?”
I don't get the chance to answer, his hand shoots out again and closes around my throat.
With a sharp tug, he hauls me up to his level. My feet leave the ground, kicking uselessly in the air as he slowly drags me closer to him—closer to the spit still clinging to his cheek.
“Clean it.” The order is quiet, but absolute. His rings bite into the skin of my neck. “Clean up what you did, Riven.”
He yanks me even closer.
I can still breathe. He isn't squeezing.
But that doesn't matter. I will not, even if he was squeezing the life out of me.
“No.” I choke out the word, spitting at him again in pure defiance.
This time, he doesn't even flinch. It's as if he expected it.
“Very well.”
Before I can react, he jerks me forward, forcing my face against the spit smeared across his cheek.
Humiliation burns through me.
“There.” His voice drips with satisfaction. “Now, you’re going to fucking behave, or I swear…”
He lets his words hang in the air.
“Or,” I grit my teeth as his grip tightens. “What?”
He stares at me for a second before leaning in again.
“You don’t get it, do you?” He chuckles darkly. “I'm done letting you walk away alive.”
He pulls back, a smug, satisfied smile on his lips as he studies me, searching.
This is it? I’m going to die?
Every instinct screams at me to run, but how? How am I supposed to escape this time?
I search his face, his eyes and my eyes land on his cheekbone.
The pieces fall into place. That silver, diamond-shaped piercing.
Last time, he'd lost his shit when I hit that spot. And when I'd tried to rip it out, he'd become downright lethal. Feral.
For a split second, I catch his eyes.
They move with unsettling precision, glowing as they track my movements, already calculating the angle and timing.
“Don’t you fucking dare!” he roars. “I will fucking rip your head off!”
I snap my head forward, slamming it into his cheekbone—the exact spot I know could do some real damage.
If he had a weak spot, that was it.
He tries to duck, but not fast enough.
His head snaps back, and his body drops suddenly, like nothing is holding him upright anymore. His grip loosens instantly.
I drop the few inches to the ground, coughing as I run toward the front door.
The pain of my forehead against his bone is secondary.
Behind me, I hear him grunt. It wasn't enough to knock him out. Not even close.
But it's slowing him down.
And right now, those few precious seconds are all I have.
There is no way in hell I'm letting him kidnap me and do whatever the fuck he wants to me—or actually kill me.
For all I know, he could drag me down to the Lower Layers, sell me off, or hand me over to some illegal clinic running God-knows-what kind of operation. Maybe take my organs.
What the fuck do I know? What I do know is that it's not happening.
My lungs are already burning by the time I burst through the building's front entrance.
I hit the street at full speed, weaving through the crowd, shoving past startled pedestrians and muttering rushed apologies over my shoulder.
I don't stop.
I don't look back.
And I definitely don't want to find out if Evren is behind me.
Kyle, I asked for a sign, but I didn't mean for a probably six-foot-something psychopath to break into my loft once again.
I turn sharply into a narrow side street and finally slow down, desperate to catch my breath.
I glance down and realize I’m barefoot.
And also standing in the middle of the city in my pajamas.
Fantastic.
My chest heaves as I press a hand over my racing heart, trying—and failing—to calm myself down.
Again.
Once again, he broke into my home.
The thought reignites the anger burning beneath the panic. If anything, it only confirms what I already know.
He deserves whatever I have planned for him.
For a full five minutes, I don't move. The adrenaline refusing to fade.
“Running out of breath, troublemaker?” His voice rings out from the entrance of the alley. “So, you found my weak spot. Congrats.”
Evren takes a step forward, emerging into the dim light of the street. The red streaks in his hair catch the light, along with the rings on his fingers, as he cracks his neck with both hands.
Panic claws at my chest, and my body goes rigid.
How did he—?
I can't believe it.
“But now, I have to find yours.” The threat is delivered so calmly that it feels even worse. “And I won't be gentle about it.”
I spin around and run but I make it exactly one step.
His hand shoots out, tangling in my hair at the base of my skull. He yanks me backward, causing me to stumble and fall at his feet.
“There.” He pauses, his hand tightening in my hair. “This is your place.”
A chill races down my spine, but it's quickly swallowed by anger and instinct.
I wrench against his hold, but his grip remains unyielding.
His free hand reaches out and brushes lightly over the pulse at my throat.
The gesture would almost feel tender if not for the situation I'm in.
Next, his knuckles trail along my jaw.
With that, his thumb brushes over my lower lip, it presses down just enough to make me tense.
“You’re lucky,” he snarls, “that I need you to fix what you destroyed.”
“What?” I finally manage to say. “I won’t fix shit!”
A brief pause.
He laughs, again.
Always that fucking laugh.
Unhinged and dangerous.
I don't even know if it's genuine, but it sends a shiver through me, tightening every muscle until I can barely breathe.
“You will,” he says. “Whether you like it or not, you’re coming with me, or I’ll chain you to my hood at the next race.”
My eyes widen as genuine fear spreads across my face.
A race, the speed, that night with Kyle.
I try to push myself up, to twist away, my heels scraping helplessly against the asphalt, but I can't without tearing out half my hair.
“You’re a monster!”
“Yes.” His voice drops to a murmur. “I am.”
He uses his grip on my hair to haul me to my feet. His hand clamps around my hip, spinning me around.
My back hits his chest.
“Now,” he murmurs, “let’s see about that weak spot, shall we?”
I feel his head dip lower, the warmth of his lips brushing slowly against the side of my neck, causing my eyes to close for a fleeting second.
Suddenly, an explosion of pain rips through me.
A strangled scream forces its way out.
Instinctively, my hands shoot back, tangling in his hair as I desperately try to wrench him away from me.
My body thrashes violently within his hold, fighting with every ounce of strength I possess.
His hand shifts, and his entire arm wraps around my chest, pinning me firmly in place, making it impossible for me to escape or break free.
The pain is unbearable—he's biting hard enough to break my skin and draw blood.
And then, finally, his grip loosens as he releases my neck.
He pulls back, spins me around in his grip to face him, and looks at me, his eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that makes my next insult die in my throat.
My own blood trickles down his lips.
His eyes glow with an intensity that borders on manic.
I stare right back, tilting my chin up, my gaze blazing with a hatred so intense it could melt fucking iron.
“There,” he says. “Now, we’re even.”
He smiles, my blood staining his lips and teeth crimson. Then, he drags his tongue across the smear of blood, tasting it.
“Your blood is divine.”
For a second, my mind refuses to make sense of what I'm seeing.
This man is completely insane.
I need to get away.
I twist in his grip and, without thinking, drive my burned hand straight into his jaw.
Pain shoots through my entire arm, but I barely register it.
“I told you, troublemaker,” he says after a beat.
Slowly, he turns his head back toward me.
“You’re not walking away this time.”
Another pause.
“Now…” He leans closer, but this time, he isn't smiling. “Are you coming with me willingly, or do I have to knock you out?”
Goosebumps prickle across my skin. His deadpan tone is far more unsettling than if he'd yelled.
Knock me out?
I pull my fist back, ready to strike again, aiming for the piercing.
I yelp as I feel a slight pinch at my thigh.
Then everything goes black.
The world drops out from under me.
The last thing I hear is his voice, muttered under his breath as consciousness slips away.
“Fucking unbelievable.” A brief pause. “I warned you.”