5. Riot
FIVE
RIOT
My face is on fucking fire. The skin is taut over the bone, and there’s a deep ache in my side that flares hot every time I move.
That last round had been a short fight, which pissed me off. This pent-up rage is choking me and it needs an escape, but that fucker had a glass jaw. He folded like wet cardboard after two hits.
The other two opponents had lasted longer and been far more satisfying. They landed savage punches that calmed some of that rage swirling through me.
But not enough.
It’s never enough.
Agony screams through my chest, sharp and jagged, like every breath is made of broken glass.
Even if he’d lasted an hour, it wouldn’t have been enough. Nothing can soothe this beast inside me.
Nothing can erase it.
Fuck.
Through swollen eyes, I peer up at the inky sky. I’m not sure if the cloud is so thick that I can’t see any stars, or if I’ve damaged my optic nerve and have gone partially blind. It doesn’t matter—the pain anchors me and brings relief.
For the last week, I’ve barely been holding my shit together. Every time I look at Ivy, I see her fading a little more. Her despair, her sadness, and her fear are a thousand cuts to my body that I can’t heal.
I’ve never felt so useless in my life, and I can’t stand it.
It fucking scares me how she can switch her pain off like a light. The mask she wears is so obvious, I don’t know how I didn’t see it before.
But the cracks are showing, and I don’t know what’s gonna happen when her brain gives her no choice but to confront her past.
I don’t want to lose her to her demons, but I don’t know how to help her either. She can’t hide her pain, no matter how much she tries.
I see it.
I see her.
But I can’t do shit to make it better.
So, this thing inside me, this helplessness and impotence, has become a storm that never breaks. It fills every inch of my chest until I can’t breathe, can’t hold it in, and I have to let it out.
That’s when I get lost in the bottom of a bottle. That’s when I throw punches in a busy bar room just to feel pain. That’s when I sink into some nameless face’s cunt.
The release is the only thing that stops me from burning it all down, and fuck, I wanna light that match and watch the carnage.
And that’s why I’m here tonight. I tried to control the hurricane inside me, but every time I can’t help Ivy, it grows bigger, more deadly, and I need to release the pressure before I explode.
So, I chose to lose myself in my torment but in a controlled way. The underground fights held here are protected, and every person stepping into the cage knows the rules of the game.
It’s lawless, and it’s what I needed… or what I thought I needed.
But I don’t feel better.
I don’t feel anything.
I flex my fingers, the broken skin over my knuckles splitting open again. In the shitty lighting, the blood trailing over the back of my hand looks black, almost demonic. It makes sense. There is a darkness inside me, beating against my ribs to come out, and yet the one fucking animal I wish I could hurt is already gone.
“Fuck,” I mutter and lean back against the wall behind me, suddenly tired to my core.
The warehouse empties, and I watch the crowds disperse until a familiar car pulls in through the gates.
I don’t move as he parks up and climbs out the vehicle, scanning until his gaze falls on me. A broken mess. A pathetic creature.
The muscle in his jaw ticks as he steps up to me. He’s gonna lecture me, but he’s wasting his breath.
I don’t give a shit.
Nicky drops to his haunches, his blazing eyes roaming over me.
“You bleedin’ out?” His words are clipped and sharp as daggers.
“No,” I mutter.
“You need a doctor?”
Mace would have been my first call, but there was no way in fuck I was dragging him out of bed for this. Nic’ll give me shit, but Mace’ll flay me alive.
“I’m fine.” I shove his hand away as he reaches for my forehead. “Quit fussin’.”
Nicky glares at me. “You dragged me out here,” he snaps. “Did you at least win?”
I scoff. “Don’t insult me.”
“Fuck me.” His mutter is laced with anger before he stands and offers me a hand.
I let him pull me to my feet, and the movement sends a hundred ice picks stabbing through my ribs.
I hiss between my teeth while the world tilts.
Nicky slides a shoulder under my arm. “You’re a fuckin’ dick.”
“Yeah,” I agree through swollen lips. “Ain’t ever pretended to be anything else.”
Every step across the parking area sends white-hot shards of agony through me. Sweat is running down my neck by the time we reach the vehicle, and I don’t know how I’m still standing as he opens the passenger door.
I take the help, sliding into the seat and waiting while he gets in the driver’s side. I’m lightheaded, and I can feel every bruise now that the adrenaline dump is fading.
Nicky is silent until we’re on the road, heading towards the clubhouse.
“You wanna tell me about it?”
I stare out the window as cars and buildings pass by in a whirl of colour. “Not really.”
If that annoys him, he doesn’t show it. “Fine. Be a broody bitch. You learn anything from staying at the clubhouse?”
This is safer ground, and I lean into it. “Crank’s a piece of shit.” I shift in the seat, trying to ease the pressure on my ribs.
“That ain’t news.”
“You think we can do this?”
His knuckles whiten as he grips the steering wheel. “Honestly? I don’t know, but we have to try. It ain’t just about our chapter, Riot. It’s the whole club. One rotten apple ruins the whole barrel.”
And we’ve got an infestation.
“You good with bein’ the king?” I ask with a smirk, but I mean it. The weight on his shoulders must be fucking crushing him.
He sighs. “Why? You want the crown, princess?”
I snort. Sarcastic shithead. “Fuck no. I ain’t a leader, Nic, and we both know that. I’d turn the clubhouse into one big orgy in less than a week.”
What I want is for the clubhouse to be safe again. I want to take Ivy and Seren there. Maylie and Toby too. I want brotherhood and family. I want loyalty and respect.
Right now, it’s poison, but one day, I want Ivy to share that part of me, to see what it should be.
Let her see the club when it’s not drowning in betrayal. When it’s just us.
Us .
The word slithers into my mind uninvited and punches me in the gut.
Shit. What the fuck am I thinking? Ivy ain’t mine. She can’t be. But the thought grows, curling around my bruised ribs like barbed wire.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
She’s been through hell. She doesn’t need a violent, broken bastard like me getting twisted up in her life.
So, why does the thought of someone else touching her make my vision bleed red?
Nic stops the car in front of the clubhouse, and I shove my thoughts down in a savage chokehold. I’m a piece of shit for even thinking about Ivy this way.
“You okay?” Nicky’s voice bleeds through the veil.
“Ah, yeah. You comin’ in?”
He peers at the building like he’s seeing ghosts. “Nah. I’m gonna head home.”
I don’t blame him. I hate being here too. “Thanks for the lift.”
I open the door and groan at the stab of pain as I slide out.
“Riot?”
I turn back to peer through the open door. “Yeah?”
“Next time, call a taxi or a prospect,” he says. “I ain’t your fuckin’ mother.”
I laugh then wince as it pulls at my broken lip. “See ya later, shithead.”
I watch the red lights on the back of the car for a moment before I limp into the clubhouse, broken and battered.
The music is loud, the bass vibrating through the floors. Half-naked girls are curled in the lap of any available brother, and the stench of pussy hangs in the air.
Disgust curls in my stomach, and I keep to the walls, out of sight and out of reach.
I don’t relax until I’m in my room with the door closed behind me.
Slowly, I strip off my clothes, each movement sending breath-stealing shards of agony through me.
Sweat beads on my forehead, coating my neck as I toss my jeans onto the floor and hobble into the bathroom.
I turn on the shower and step under the spray when it’s hot enough. The water rolls down my shoulders, and it’s blood-tinged when it hits the tray.
I’ve never feared pain. It makes me feel alive, like everything is brighter and bolder. After a fight, I usually wanna get lost in faceless pussy, but not this time.
Not when all I can think about is Ivy.
So, I let my fingers trail over my shaft, and my cock twitches at the touch.
I push through my pain, push through my whirling thoughts, push through my shame of wanting a girl who deserves better, and I twist my hand around my length.
Fuck. My breath tears out of me, my ribs like a band of steel crushing my lungs while I work myself over.
Every movement is pleasure mixed with the pain from my injuries. I lean a hand against the tiles in front of me, my legs wobbling as I squeeze my eyes closed.
It feels incredible, and I increase the pressure until lights flash behind my lids.
I imagine my fist is a tight cunt, that it’s choking my cock as my hand moves a little quicker.
Slick heat and glistening wetness are so clear in my thoughts that I swear I can smell it.
Without warning, dark blonde hair and blue eyes shimmer through my thoughts, and Ivy’s face is all I see.
What the fuck…
Without warning, my balls contract so hard, I let out a strangled yelp and almost slip on the wet shower tray.
I grapple for anything and find my feet as my release sprays over the back of my hand, splashing on the tile in front of me. The sound of my laboured breaths is drowned out by the water pelting down.
What the fuck just happened?
The tightness in my chest is no longer because I’m out of breath.
It was Ivy’s face.
I just wanked to Ivy… and came harder than I ever have in my entire life.
This feels depraved, even by my usually low standards.
Maybe I’m concussed.
I lean my forehead against the cold tile, letting it soothe the ache building in my temples. I’ve always known I was a lowlife piece of shit, but what I just did was ninth circle of hell wrong.
And yet…
And yet…
Is it? I want to protect her, to keep her safe. I spend so much time at her place, not out of duty to my brother or Maylie, but because I like hanging out with her.
I fucking like Ivy.
Fuck. Me.