3. Riot
THREE
RIOT
“Go left!” Toby’s voice goes up an octave as he barks out the command, as if he’s really a general on a battlefield and I’m some lowly soldier following orders.
I shove the stick on the controller to the side, watching the huge TV screen in front of us.
These fuckin’ games are addictive, and the graphics are so good, it feels as if I’m in it. I never played this shit until I started sitting with Maylie’s siblings, but now?
As much as I hate to admit it, I fucking enjoy hanging out with the kid and playing this brain rot.
But it makes me miss my nephew and nieces. My sister won’t let me back into her life unless I ditch the club, which ain’t fucking happening. And Jack? Well, my brother is a self-absorbed cunt. I ain’t seen his son in months, and that fucking pisses me off.
Toby fires a volley from his gun, taking down two players on the other team. He whoops as he does, and his excitement fills some of that hollow space in my chest.
Family ain’t born. It’s built.
The round ends and the screen shifts to the menu.
“You’re getting better,” he remarks, like a teacher grading a student.
I’m mostly just mashing buttons and hoping for the best, but I take the compliment. “Thanks for the endorsement, kid.”
I glance towards the door, expecting to see Ivy standing there, rolling her eyes at us like she normally does, but the frame remains empty.
I’ve been here for over an hour already and she ain’t come out of her room. That’s not like her. Usually, she’d be out here, soaking up the chaos and the company, calling her brother names and ripping into me.
“You piss your sister off?” I keep my tone light even as my nerves coil tight beneath my ribs.
Every instinct pulls me towards her, like I’m tethered to her by an invisible thread.
She’d been weird yesterday morning. Sure, she’d bantered with me and acted normal, but beneath that front, somethin’ wasn’t right.
“Which one?” Toby asks.
I let out a huff of laughter, just enough to loosen the tension burrowing under my skin. “I know you ain’t stupid enough to piss off Maylie.”
Toby laughs.
Mace has become unhinged since his old lady got pregnant. He was protective of her before, but now? He’s trying to hold up a house of cards with one finger.
“Ivy’s…” He hesitates, his nose wrinkling. “ Ivy .”
I lean forward, a protective wave surging through my chest, ready to tear into whatever he’s about to say. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
There’s more bite behind my words than I intend.
Don’t lose your shit at the kid.
Toby blows out a breath, his brows furrowing, then he shrugs. “You know, fine one minute, bitchy the next.”
That ain’t fucking true. Ivy’s been strong since Link disappeared out of her life.
Since Mace splattered his brain matter all over their old kitchen.
But Toby’s not the most observant when it comes to his sisters. His entire life revolves around computer games, school, and his pals—as it should. He has no idea the mental load his sisters carry to give him that carefree life, so him talking about Ivy like that pisses me off. Both girls are doing their best in difficult circumstances.
“Dude…” The disappointment in my voice hangs heavy between us.
Toby’s cheeks heat at my tone, and he focuses on his controller like it holds the secrets to the universe.
“Your sister’s goin’ through shit,” I explain. He needs to understand this. “She ain’t slept a full night since Seren was born, and you know how shit it is when you’re tired. You’re a fuckin’ gremlin if you don’t get a full eight hours. Cut her some slack, bud. Bein’ a parent is hard as fuck.”
And the way she became a mother left a stain on her soul that will never heal. Ivy loves Seren—anyone with eyes can see that—but it wasn’t her choice. Link stole that from her when he forced that pregnancy to happen.
And I wasn’t there to protect her.
Knowing that breaks something inside me. It ain’t a clean wound, but a jagged, splintering kind of agony, one that screams I failed in the worst way.
But she survived. Fuck knows how, but she did. Ivy clawed her way out of that nightmare and found the strength to raise that baby like she wasn’t conceived in hell.
But me? I ain’t that strong.
I wanna tear the whole fucking world apart with my bare hands for what was done to her.
If her ex wasn’t already fucking dead, I’d play with him like a cat torments a mouse.
Days taking him to the brink of death only to let my boot off his neck long enough to take a breath. I’d fucking cut him to pieces and watch the blood drain out of him.
No fuckin’ mercy.
But Ivy doesn’t know he’s dead, or that he died trying to rape her sister on the table they ate breakfast at every damn day.
She also doesn’t know that me and Nicky carved that fucker into pieces, put him in suitcases, and wheeled him out the building like he was luggage.
Or that we had him burnt to ashes at the crematorium across the city.
Even Maylie doesn’t know that part.
There was no grave. Link’s remains were swept away like he was nothing. A fitting end for a worthless piece of shit. He’ll fade away, lost and forgotten, while Ivy will thrive and his daughter will live, never knowing him.
For a narcissistic piece of shit like him, it’s the worst way to end his life. He’s not even a footnote in history.
Like he never existed.
“I guess so,” Toby mumbles, bringing me out of my blood-fuelled fantasising. “You wanna play again?”
“I’m gonna sit this one out, kid.” I place the controller on the table and stand. “And you’ve got one more round and then bed. Maylie’ll kill me if she knows I let you stay up this late.”
He waves this off. “How’s she gonna know?”
Give me fuckin’ strength .
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Kid…”
“All right, fine. One more, then bed.”
I shake my head before stepping out the room. The sound of the game loading up again fades into the background as I make my way through the apartment.
This place is fuckin’ huge. It spans the entire corner of the building, with five bedrooms and two baths.
And no murders in the kitchen… as far as I know.
Her bedroom door is open a crack, but it’s enough for me to see inside.
Ivy is sitting in the nursing chair at the window, feeding her daughter. That scene isn’t unusual, but everything else is.
Her expression is unguarded in a way I’ve never seen, and I’m transfixed by the only emotion coming through strong and clear.
Devastating sadness.
My chest cracks open, a wound so deep slicing through me as I confirm what I already suspected—the Ivy she lets us see ain’t the real one.
This is.
Those walls she has around her are so fucking high, so fucking impenetrable that we’ve all missed what’s right in front of our faces.
She’s playing a role, and we’ve all fallen for it.
My throat clogs as a tear rolls down her cheek, then another. The hopelessness on her face as she stares at nothing makes me want to burn everything to the ground.
An urge to fling open the door and pull her into my arms has me faltering a step. This isn’t something I’m meant to see. This is a private moment, and standing here, watching, is a violation.
She’s already had so many things taken from her, and I won’t take anything else. I want her to open up to me, but on her terms.
So, I step back from the door and shove down the raging storm of emotions twisting my insides.
Then, I yell her name to give her the chance to hide her tears.
“Uh, just a second,” she shouts back. Her voice wobbles, and I wait, my gaze locked on the wall in front of me. I’d wait as long as she needs, but she composes herself quickly. “Come in.”
I move to the door in a few tight steps and push it open. Her eyes are dry, the mask she’s been wearing all these months back in place.
Guilt and shame wash through me. I saw her vulnerable, and she wouldn’t have wanted anyone to see that.
She frowns at me when I don’t say anything. “You need something?”
I rub the back of my neck, the muscles strung tight like a bow. “You hidin’ in here?” I ask instead of answering her.
“I was tired. And I’m not in the mood to listen to you and Toby yelling at the TV.”
Her smile is practiced, robotic, and the dark smudges under her eyes look more like bruises. She ain’t sleeping, and it has nothing to do with the baby in her arms.
I shouldn’t push, but that fierce ache in my gut won’t settle. “You okay?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
Those words are too light, too easy. My senses flash a warning, but I don’t know how to bridge this chasm she’s put between us without being clumsy.
“Toby’s goin’ to bed. You wanna watch a movie with me?”
That watery, thin smile makes an appearance again, and I fucking hate it. It’s not her. It’s not my Ivy. “Not tonight.”
Let it go…
But I can’t. I need to gauge where her head is at and find the solution to whatever is bothering her. “You gonna sleep?”
She glances towards the double bed and her throat bobs, as if she’s…
Scared ?
What the fuck?
“You want me to check under it?” I tease, but I watch her closely as I say it.
The banter is part of our relationship, and it’s familiar enough that it might help her open up to me.
Her forehead wrinkles as she drags her gaze back to her daughter. “Monsters don’t live under the bed, Riot. They don’t hide.”
“You don’t need to worry about monsters, Vee.”
Not ever. I swear to fuck I will destroy anyone who tries to hurt her again.
Ivy’s finger strokes Seren’s cheek as she suckles. I’ve seen her feed the baby more times than I can count, but something about it tonight stirs a primal possessiveness deep in my soul. I want to wrap them both in my protection, though I don’t know what I’m keeping them safe from. There’s no threat to Ivy or Seren, not anymore.
“Right.” Her voice is quiet, but I hear the doubt buried in it.
“I mean it.” The words are sharp like cut glass and strong as iron. “Nothin’ will touch you again.”
She finally lifts her head, slow and hesitant. I can’t read her expression, and that realisation sits like lead in my gut.
“I’m tired. Do you mind?”
The dismissal stings, but if she wants space, I’ll give her the whole fucking world. “You change your mind about the movie, you let me know.”
“Night, Riot.”
The wall slams down between us. Immovable. Permanent.
“Night, darlin’.”
I give her a lingering look before I close the door behind me.
Maybe she’s just tired. Seren’s awake more than she’s asleep, so maybe this is nothing to worry about.
Maybe I need to sleep myself.
The strain of club politics is pressing on my shoulders so hard, my knees want to buckle. There’s so much at stake, and not just with the club itself. This revolution we’re staging could come back on the people we love. Ivy, Seren, Maylie, Toby… they could all be caught in the crossfire of this shit.
But that ain’t in my thoughts as I step back into the living room. The TV is off and there’s no sign of Toby. At least he did what I asked without argument.
I sink onto the couch and grab the remote. Ivy ain’t coping and I know why. She’s scared, and why wouldn’t she be? She thinks she’s not safe. She thinks her monster—her ex—is hiding in the shadows.
But he’s gone, and he’s never coming back.
She deserves to know that, to understand she and Seren are safe.
My thoughts are scattered, the show playing in the background forgotten, and by the time I hear Maylie and Mace come in, that discomfort in my chest has hardened into a ball of pain.
“Everything okay?” Maylie drops her bag on the carpet, pressing her hands to the small of her back. I love my sister-in-law like she’s blood, but I don’t agree with how she’s handling this. It’s getting harder to justify the lies. Her head lifts at my silence, concern rippling across her face. “Riot?”
My foster brother is there instantly, his hands resting on her shoulders. He’s an unshakeable shield at her back, bracing for the bomb he suspects I’m about to drop.
“Ivy…” I break off.
How do I explain this without exposing things she would rather keep hidden?
“Are her and Seren okay?” She cups the barely noticeable swell of her belly, her skin pale. The weight of her fear crushes the air between us.
I might not agree with her decisions, but there’s no denying how much she loves her siblings. Maylie gave up everything to keep her family together, and that takes a solid strength that most people don’t possess.
“She seems tired.” It’s not what I want to say, but I can’t admit I watched her cry.
Mace guides Maylie to the sofa, ignoring her huff of annoyance as she sits. “Pretty sure that’s standard for new parents,” he says.
“You think she needs more help?” Maylie’s pinched expression fills me with guilt. She doesn’t need to take on more, but Ivy’s drowning. “Maybe I can pull back on my hours at Temptation so I’m here instead.”
“You’re pregnant.” Mace rubs her thigh before his hand rests on her bump. His tension is a living, breathing animal as he glares at me for even putting that thought in her head. “You’re already doin’ more than you should.”
I don’t blame him for that reaction—he’s a man living on a knife’s edge. Maylie’s pregnancy hasn’t been easy. Between the nonstop puking and extreme exhaustion, she also has dark smudges under her eyes.
Mace shoots me a look that promises a painful death. Be pissed. It doesn’t change that Ivy needs…
What does she need?
“It ain’t the baby makin’ her tired.” That thickness stirs through the room, a dark cloud hanging over us all. “Somethin’ ain’t right with her.”
“Meaning what?” Mace’s words are terse.
“I don’t think she’s copin’ with her trauma.”
Saying it gives it the space to bloom, to become real.
Maylie glances towards Mace before her attention comes fully to me. “It’s hardly surprising, Riot. I can’t even imagine what she went through, but she won’t talk about it. I suggested therapy, even got her an appointment, but she won’t do it.”
Talking ain’t Ivy’s thing, so it doesn’t surprise me she refused, but bottling up this pain is like lighting a match and expecting it to not burn.
“Trauma only stays buried for so long before it comes out, and it’s gonna come out in a way no one can control if it ain’t dealt with.” I let that warning land.
My fear is we’re already too late. The cracks are showing in the carefully crafted vault she’s built around herself.
“I can’t force her to talk to someone,” Maylie snaps. “And I won’t. She had her choices taken from her for long enough without us doing the same.”
She’s right. That’s not the way to help. Ivy needs to open up on her own terms, but there is something we can do.
I bounce my gaze between my brother and Maylie, bracing. “We should tell her Link’s gone. It might give her the closure she needs to heal and move on with her life.”
Monsters don’t hide.
Ivy isn’t wrong about that, but her monster is fucking ashes and he ain’t coming back.
“She is getting on with life.” Maylie’s defences surround her. “She’s doing amazing with Seren, but she only gave birth two months ago, Riot. Give her time. Her life has completely changed, and telling her anything about,” her throat bobs, “ him is just going to dredge up those nightmares she’s buried. And how do you know she’s even worried about him? Has she said something?”
My temple throbs, spreading waves of pain down my neck. “It’s wrong to keep this shit from her.”
Mace leans forwards, coiled tight like a spring. “You want her to have the knowledge I killed that fucker? You want an eighteen-year-old traumatised girl to carry that shit on her shoulders for the rest of her life?”
Shit. I don’t want anything bad to touch Ivy.
“I don’t want her traumatised at all,” I counter, “but she is, and knowin’ this could help.”
Mace looks like he’s considering punching me in the throat. Maybe I deserve it.
“She can’t know. It’s too fucking risky, and I ain’t playing with my life here, Nate. I’m about to have a kid. I can’t go to prison ‘cause she blabs this to one of her friends. What happened stays between us, understand?”
Maylie slips her hand into Mace’s, a clear sign she’s with him on this.
And on some level, I agree. There’s so much hanging in the balance here—Mace’s life, his kid, Maylie, even Toby.
There’s a reason the criminal shit we do stays hidden. It’s dangerous for that information to be out there, and while I don’t think Ivy would go to the police, it’s just another burden for her to carry. She could tell someone without meaning to. There’s too much at stake. I can’t risk my brother losing his family, not when he fought so hard to have one.
But Ivy? What about what she needs?
My thoughts pinball around my mind as I try to come up with a solution, but there is none.
Tell her and burden her with this awful secret, or hide it and she’ll spend her life looking over her shoulder.
Suddenly, I want to get the fuck out of here. I can’t look her in the eyes knowing this shit and keeping it to myself.
“I’m gonna head off. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I don’t hold back my frustration.
Maylie stands, Mace moving with her, and she puts herself in my path. Despite barely reaching my chin, she’s like a lioness protecting her cubs.
“I hate that you’re involved in this, Riot, and I’m sorry that you are, but I know my sister. And I know what she can handle. Please, just trust me when I say she won’t cope knowing the truth.”
I exhale a rush of air. I can see the weight of this is crushing May. It’s in the set of her shoulders and the pinched lines around her eyes. Maylie ain’t the enemy here. She wants what’s best for Ivy too. It’s just that we ain’t on the same page about what that is.
“I hate lyin’ to her.”
Her brittle smile falters around the edges. “I know. I’m sorry. I wish you didn’t have to carry this.” Her arms wrap around me like a warm blanket, and I rest my chin on the top of her head, holding her tight. “Thank you for looking out for her. It means everything that you’re in her corner.”
Ugly, dark, dirty guilt slithers through my veins. There’s nothing heroic or selfless in this. “Don’t thank me for bein’ a piece of shit.”
A shudder rolls through Maylie, and she squeezes her eyes shut.
Mace’s lips curl into a snarl as his hand wraps around her nape and he pulls her against his chest, glaring at me.
“I hate lying too,” Maylie says finally, “but this won’t help her, Riot. Ivy’s guilt and shame will be a mountain range sitting on her shoulders. She’ll blame herself for bringing Link into our lives, and she’ll shoulder that burden alone. It’ll destroy every broken piece of her she’s somehow glued back together.”
Fuck. What the hell do I say to that?
“I know.” I step back, that space in my ribs where my heart sits pinched and painful. “Night, Maylie.” I lift my gaze to my brother. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Yeah,” Mace mutters, his tone telling me we’ll be talking.
The ride back to the clubhouse gives me time to think, and when I pull into the compound, my mind is whirling. All I want to do is fuck, drink, and fight, but the mood I’m in, I’ll cross lines I shouldn’t, so I head to my room and flop onto the bed fully clothed.
The monsters don’t hide.
Maybe she is just sleep deprived. Maybe it’s hormones or the pressure of parenthood. I don’t fuckin’ know, but her tears were like a thousand jagged cuts.
I close my eyes, and when my exhaustion drags me into the darkness, it’s Ivy’s face that fills my dreams.