6. Ivy
SIX
IVY
I didn’t dream last night. Maybe it was exhaustion, maybe it was luck, but I didn’t wake with that dread in my gut.
It’s a change. My nightmares don’t usually take days off. They drag me through the gates of hell, nails sunk deep, while I claw at the dirt.
I’m grateful, though, because I’d been running on fumes. Bone-deep exhaustion had wrapped around me like a fist, and what’s worse is I’ve been walking a knife’s-edge because Riot’s been gone.
Four days. Four long, cruel, endless days.
I’ve replayed every word I said to him in the park and in the days before that, but I can’t pinpoint the moment I lost him.
The moment I chased him away.
You’re worthless. Of course, he doesn’t want to be around you.
The longer he’s gone, the more I feel like I’m coming out of my skin. I see danger everywhere, monsters under the bed, behind doors. The illusion of safety has shattered, and I’m drowning in its wreckage.
But more than all of that… I miss him.
Fuck, I need him, and that’s not fair. He’s not my emotional support crutch.
He’s my friend.
No… he’s so much more than that. My heart stutters whenever I think about him, even if he doesn’t feel the same.
Even if he never feels the same.
I leave Seren sleeping in her cot. She was restless most of the night, probably picking up on my mood, and I know I should nap while I can, but I need coffee and food more than I need sleep.
The apartment is silent as I drift down the hallway like a ghost. As I pass the living room, movement stops me dead.
Riot’s sprawled on the sofa, his eyes closed, but it’s his face that steals my breath.
A patchwork of bruises stains his cheeks and jaw in shades of yellow, brown, and purple.
It’s been four days since I saw him, and now, I know why.
He’s hurt.
No, not hurt. He’s battered.
The cavernous pit in my stomach caves in, devouring the terror raging inside me. I can’t stop staring at his puffy left eye and the cut bisecting his lip.
Dread coils like poison in my veins as I map every injury I can see.
How did this happen?
It’s not the first time Riot has turned up beat to hell, but this?
He’s never been this bruised before.
Sensing my presence, he lifts his head and our eyes lock, like we’re being pulled by an invisible thread. Every bone in my body turns to liquid under his gaze, and my heart races like a train with no brakes.
“What happened?” My voice wobbles, and I step towards him before I can stop myself.
“The other guys look worse,” he quips then winces as it pulls on his split lip.
I squint, trying to understand the logic in that statement. “But you look terrible.”
His brow arches, that dimple I love so much cutting through his cheek. “Thanks.”
“It wasn’t a compliment,” I snap.
“I’ve tried to get answers out of him,” Maylie says from behind me, “but the man is a vault.”
She drops into the armchair, nursing a cup of something that smells suspiciously bad.
Riot sinks deeper into the cushions, one hand pressed to his ribs. “You don’t need answers because I’m fine. The worst of it has already healed, or is healing.”
Is he tapped in the head? What part of him is fine?
“Your face says otherwise.” My words are sharp, laced with unrepressed anger. “Hold on, you said ‘other guys’. More than one person did this to you?”
Was he jumped? Hurt doing something for the club? Is he in danger?
Fear slams against my ribs, and his expression turns soft.
“I’m fine, Vee, I promise.” A small smirk curls his lips. “But… if you want, I’ll let you nurse me back to health.” He wiggles his eyebrows, and despite the cold spreading through me, I snort a laugh.
Maylie scowls. “She’s not your mother. And Ivy, don’t give him any sympathy. This is all self-inflicted.”
So, not a club job. What did he do? “You went out looking for trouble?” I hazard a guess. Why would he do that?
“What can I say,” he shrugs, “I’m a trouble magnet.”
Maylie takes a sip of her drink and wrinkles her nose. “That’s disgusting.”
I don’t ask what it is. Mace has been supplying her with all kinds of weird and wonderful concoctions to help with her morning sickness. I have to give it to my sister—she takes everything he gives her without complaint.
“Anyway, you can’t be a trouble magnet if you go looking for it.” She turns to me. “He went to an illegal underground fight.”
Oh, that sinking feeling in my stomach just hit three hundred thousand feet below sea level. Why the hell would he go to an underground fight? I don’t know much about illegal fights, but I can guess they’re dangerous.
Why would he risk his safety like that?
My anger is morphing into something far more potent. I’m fucking furious.
“Why are you tattlin’ on me?” Riot demands. “And how do you even know that?”
Maylie smiles sweetly at him. “I know everything. Nicky called Mace, and I overheard what he said.” She pales and swallows hard, battling whatever nausea is plaguing her this morning. “Oh, this is so not fun.”
“You know, it’s rude to listen to other people’s conversations,” he mutters.
“I wasn’t listening.” She sucks in air through her nose. “He was lying next… to me… and talking loudly.” Maylie covers her mouth as if she can hold it back with her palm.
I can’t help but notice the sharper angles of her jaw and collarbone as she leans forwards to ease the nausea. Mace is right—she’s lost so much weight during this pregnancy, no wonder he’s losing his shit. He’s never going to get her pregnant again after this, no matter what Maylie wants.
“You okay?” Riot asks, his words threaded with worry.
“Uh-huh.”
She’s so not okay.
“May, can I get you anything?” I’ve barely finished the question when she slides her mug onto the table, leaps from the chair, and darts out the room.
“Shit,” Riot mutters as Mace’s voice echoes through the apartment.
I swear, my brother-in-law has a radar that can detect Maylie puking from a mile away.
“She’ll be okay,” I tell him.
It’s sweet how worried he looks. Riot cares about all of us.
Even me. Even if I don’t deserve it.
“Are you gonna sit down or stand there all day?”
I drop my hands to my hips. “I’m debating how mad I am at you.” He opens his mouth to protest, but I keep talking. “An illegal fight? Really?”
There’s not a flicker of remorse in his expression. “It ain’t as bad as it sounds.”
“Well, it sounds awful.” My anger fizzles out at the sight of the bruises, and my chin wobbles as my emotions threaten to strangle me. I can’t lose him, and I can’t bear to see him so hurt. “They beat you to hell, Riot.”
He holds out a hand towards me, but I don’t take it, too scared to even touch him.
He huffs. “Come here.”
“Riot—”
“ Now , Ivy.”
The barked command works, and I drop down next to him. I can’t look at him. If I do, I’ll start crying.
“It’s sweet you’re worried about me,” he says, “but I’m fine. Believe it or not, I won all three fights.” That cocky tone would usually work on me, but not today. Not when my stomach is in knots.
“Why?” I need to know what drove him to this. Why he has this constant need for self-destruction. “Why did you fight?”
“Vee—”
“No, don’t do that. Don’t brush me off like I’m overreacting. I want an answer, Riot. Why did you go there and fight? Give me the truth.”
He cups the side of my face, and I freeze. It’s a tentative, intimate gesture, and not one I expected from him.
Don’t lean into it.
“You don’t need to worry about me, darlin’. I’m fine. The bruises will fade and heal, and I’ll be back to normal in a few days.”
Back to normal? Oh, fuck that and fuck him.
“I know how bruises fade, Riot.” He flinches when I throw that truth like an axe. “What I don’t know is why you’re seeking this kind of destruction.”
I know what it is to hate yourself enough to crave the pain. I don’t know if that’s what he’s doing, but whatever the reason for all of it—the fighting and the sleeping around—it’s damaging behaviour.
“Just let it go.”
I should, but I’m so unsettled seeing him like this that I forge on despite his plea.
“If I turned up looking like I went ten rounds with a hammer, would you let it go?”
Something dangerous flashes in his eyes, even the swollen one. “If anyone ever puts a mark on you, I’ll fuckin’ kill ’em.”
The quiet anger in that tone sends a shiver rolling up my spine. I’m not deluded. I know he and Mace do bad things for the club, but he’s not joking when he says that.
“You’re not going to kill anyone.”
“I’m serious.” The space between us suddenly vanishes. I’m aware of everything from the shallow breaths he’s dragging in to the smell of leather from his kutte. His thigh is only inches from mine, and I can feel the heat coming off his body.
“You don’t have to fight my battles for me,” I say quietly.
“No, I don’t, but I will. Every fuckin’ time.”
My chest tightens, and there’s a pulse of heat low in my belly. I want to touch him. I want him to touch me, even though it terrifies me.
Emboldened, I brush my fingers over his bruised cheek, and he freezes, his eyes darting to mine. The question dances in them.
“Does it hurt?”
There’s no sign of his usual humour as he stares at me. “No.”
He’s lying, but I let it slide. “Why were you fighting? Tell me the truth.”
He doesn’t speak, but then he sighs. “It helps.”
“You need the pain to feel?”
“Usually, but not last night.”
“I don’t… I don’t get it.”
“I know.” He wraps his fingers around my wrist, and my breath locks in my chest. “And I’m glad you don’t.” When he lets go, my skin is immediately cold. “Wanna get out of here?”
I blink at him. Is he serious? “You realise you’re beat to hell, right?”
“I rode here on my bike, and I wanna stretch my legs. Besides, you and the princess need to get fresh air. I’m guessin’ you ain’t seen daylight since I’ve been gone.”
I don’t give him shit for riding here. I should, but it’s not my place, and I know he wouldn’t have got on the bike if he couldn’t do it safely. Both he and Mace treat their motorcycles with reverence.
When I don’t answer, he holds his hands up defensively. “We’ll just go for a quick walk. Nothin’ too strenuous.”
“Fine,” I agree, since I want to spend time with him.
I’m desperate for any moment I can have with him.
I get ready and make sure Seren is dressed for the cold. She’s sleepier than usual today, and a little tendril of worry unfurls in my stomach. She doesn’t feel warm, and she’s been nursing fine, but as soon as I lay her in the pram, she dozes off again.
She’s fine. Stop stressing about every little thing.
We walk slowly because of his injuries. Silence wraps around us, comfortable, easy and warm. This is where I feel most at peace—with him.
His phone rings, shattering our quiet. Suddenly, the real world is knocking on the door and I’m not ready to let it back in.
Not yet.
I stop as he pulls it out and scowls. “I gotta take this.” He nods towards the bench. “Sit. Don’t move.”
I roll my eyes and mutter, “What am I? A Labrador?”
But he’s already out of earshot.
I sink onto the bench and watch him pacing.
Maybe it’s one of his many conquests.
I wrinkle my nose, leaning into the pram to check on Seren. The thought of him with anyone else sends fissures of jealousy stabbing into my chest.
“Ivy?”
A flicker of panic clenches my chest as a man walks towards me. He’s confident—too confident—and my guard goes up instantly.
Dark blonde hair flops into his eyes, and his beaming smile reveals perfect white teeth. There’s a layer of fair hair covering his jaw and upper lip, and his clothes are casual but clearly designer.
“It is you,” he says. “I thought so.”
Fear twists into recognition as my brain catches up. Jackson Cole is as handsome as I remember, and the last few years have been kind to him. He’s bulked out, muscles straining under his clothes.
How many nights did I lie in bed fantasising about him kissing me, or sweeping me away from my crappy life? When Mum was in the hospital, dreams of him were all that got me through the dark nights.
I wait for that flutter in my chest, that yearning desire for him, but it doesn’t come.
But the anxiety does.
A tendril of nerves works through my stomach as Jackson stops in front of me, rocking back on his heels as his eyes roam over me.
I’ve known Jackson since our first day at school when we were five years old, but I know now how dangerous men can be, especially the ones who pretend to be harmless.
“Hey,” I choke out.
Was he always so tall? I want to stand, even though he’ll still loom over me, but I force myself to remain seated.
“It’s been a while,” he says with a charming smile.
“It has. How are you?”
“I’m good.” His grin is easy, as if he doesn’t have a care in the world while my shoulders bow with the weight of my dread.
He sits beside me without asking, and my heart squeezes so tight, I nearly grunt at the pain.
I glance towards Riot. He’s standing with his back to me, his head lowered as he speaks into the phone.
Look up…
He doesn’t.
“It’s good to see you, Fernsby. I’m sorry we lost touch.”
“It’s fine. It’s my fault,” I murmur, dragging my gaze back to him. He’s too close. “Life’s been a little crazy.”
“I’m sure it has. Is that your kid?” He nods towards the pram. “I heard you had a baby.”
My stomach twists like a pretzel as I brace for him to say something that’s going to rip me apart, but he doesn’t. There’s no judgement in his eyes as he studies my daughter. Why would there be? He doesn’t know how she was created.
I relax, mustering a smile. “Yeah. That’s Seren.”
“Cute name,” he says, pulling silly faces at my daughter.
Jackson isn’t one of the monsters I fear.
I repeat this, willing my heart to calm down.
“It’s Welsh. It means ‘star’.”
And that’s what she is. When I was in the darkness with no way out, Seren was the star that guided me home. She gave me a reason to survive, so I gave her a name that told the world what she means to me.
“That’s beautiful.” There’s an intensity in his eyes as he studies me. “Motherhood looks good on you, Ivy.”
My cheeks burn at the compliment, and suddenly, I’m twelve years old, desperate he’ll notice me.
I spent my teens trailing him like an adoring puppy, but he always dated older girls or my friends, but never me. That was how I ended up with Link. I was tired of chasing a boy who didn’t want me, and when Link showed an interest, I fell hard.
I snap my gaze to where Jackson’s fingers curl around my bicep without warning. My skin freezes, crawling under his touch.
Bile coats my throat. Shake him off.
Stop.
I turn to the pram, an excuse to get him off me. My gut unclenches as his fingers drop away. “I haven’t slept a full night since she was born.”
Why did I say that? Seren isn’t the only reason for my sleep deprivation.
“Well, even without sleeping, you look amazing.”
My lungs feel too tight, my head fuzzy.
Please leave me alone.
I force a smile. “I look like I had a baby two months ago.”
“No, seriously, you look fantastic.” I duck my head, not embarrassed but uncomfortable. The awkward silence stretches between us before he says, “I didn’t mean to overstep.”
“You didn’t.” You did. Change the subject. “What have you been doing since I last saw you?”
“I’m working for my dad now. I wanted to go to university, but the family business needed me.” He doesn’t hide his bitterness.
“I’m sorry,” I say, meaning it. I know how it feels to have your education ripped from you. I barely completed school because of Link.
He shrugs. “It’s not totally shit working for my father, and I guess one day the company will be mine, but it’s…”
“Not what you wanted to do?” I finish for him.
That fucking grin appears again. “Something like that.”
He leans back, his thigh brushing mine. It takes everything in me to not recoil.
He’s not going to hurt me.
Unaware of my internal battle, Jackson’s head tilts to the side and he takes me in as if memorising every part of my face. “I’m just on a break and I have to get back to work, but I want to continue this conversation. Let me take you to dinner.”
Two years ago, those words would have been everything, but now?
I don’t want to, but I don’t want to hurt his feelings either.
“Jackson… that’s… that’s really kind of you, but?—”
“It’s just dinner,” he interjects, trying to ward off the rejection he knows is coming. “It’s been so long since we last hung out, and it would be cool to trade stories.”
I don’t think it would. My stories are dark and filled with terror.
A shadow falls over us, blocking out the sun behind, and we both turn towards it.
Riot’s standing in front of us, mouth tight, his arms folded over his broad chest, a wall between me and the world. There’s no sign of his phone or the easy demeanour I’ve come to know so well.
He scans Jackson as if he’s something he scraped off his boot.
“Who the fuck are you?”
Riot’s words are cold and harsh, and Jackson swallows whatever retort sits in his throat as his eyes dart to the leather kutte Riot’s wearing.
But then he does something supremely dumb.
“None of your business.” He stands, placing himself in front of me, as if trying to shield me and Seren from Riot.
It’s a lit match to a line of gasoline. “Oh, it’s my business. You’re in my fuckin’ seat.”
He turns to look at the bench behind him. “Yeah, well, it’s taken now.”
Riot’s eyes narrow on him, his fingers curling into fists at his side.
“Riot, it’s fine,” I say before he can throw a punch. “He’s a…” I pause. Who is Jackson to me? “He’s a friend.”
Riot’s gaze slides to mine, and fire blazes in his eyes, but it’s not for me. Never for me. “Friend?”
“We went to school together,” I explain, my mouth dry. “Jackson, this is Riot.”
Jackson doesn’t say a word to Riot but glances at me. “You know this guy?”
I don’t like the way he looks at Riot, like he’s something dirty. My irritation flares.
“He’s family.”
“You’re still in my fuckin’ seat,” Riot challenges. Even bruised and battered, he looks like an avenging angel. “Move.”
“Dude, there’s plenty of space. Why are you making it weird?”
Riot’s gaze flicks to me then back to Jackson.
Is he angry at how close we’re sitting?
“I’m not gonna repeat myself, Jason?—”
“Jackson.”
“—but if you don’t move before I finish speakin’, I’m gonna cut your dick off for so much as breathin’ in the direction of my girls.”
If it wasn’t for the fact he delivered this threat with the scariest grin I’ve ever seen, I would have melted at that.
His girls? Are we his?
Focus, Ivy. He just threatened to cut off Jackson’s dick.
Jackson doesn’t move, and Riot’s grin becomes even more unhinged.
“Riot, don’t.” The words bubble out of my closed throat as panic claws at my chest.
Seren cries, sensing my tension, and Riot’s attention flicks to the pram. The monster retreats, and he immediately softens.
“She okay?”
I don’t want to take my eyes off him and Jackson, but I turn, placing a hand on her stomach before I pick her up out of the pram, holding her to me as I rock her little body. “She’s fine. Just fussy.”
Satisfied, Riot’s gaze shifts back to Jackson before he claims the seat next to me.
“But you don’t have to be so rude,” I chastise as Riot trails his fingers over Seren’s head.
“I wasn’t rude. I asked nicely.” He flashes me that grin again, and there’s something predatory beneath it. “You didn’t think I was bein’ rude, did you, Jensen?”
This time, Jackson doesn’t correct his name. “No.”
“What did I tell you, Vee?” His arm drapes over the back of the bench, settling on my shoulders. My body heats in every place he’s touching. “Why don’t you sit? There’s plenty of space now without makin’ it weird .”
Riot gestures to the empty bench next to him, not me. Jackson looks as if he’d rather cut his arm off than sit next to him.
“I’ve got somewhere to be.” He pulls his wallet from his pocket and offers me a card. “My number. Message me about dinner.”
Riot snatches it from his hand before I can blink.
Jackson shoots Riot a dark glare before walking away. I watch until I lose him in a crowd of dog walkers.
Riot stiffens. “Dinner?” His voice is a growl. “That fuck ain’t takin’ you anywhere, Vee.”
“I didn’t say I would go. Why are you so pissed?”
He squeezes his eyes shut, grounding himself. “I turned around for less than a minute and there was a strange guy sittin’ next to you. And you looked so uncomfortable, I wanted to rip his fuckin’ head off his shoulders. I was ready to, but then you say he’s a friend. The problem is your body language tells me somethin’ different from the words comin’ out of your mouth. All things considered, I think I was less pissed than I wanted to be.”
A stunned silence falls over me. Did he really read all of that?
“He is just a friend. I’ve known Jackson for a long time, but it’s been a few years since I last saw him. He caught me unaware. And I was uncomfortable?—”
“Fuckin’ prick.” He snarls, standing, as if he’s going after him.
I grab his arm, yanking him back down.
“Would you let me finish before you hurt an innocent person?”
“There’s no such thing as innocent.”
“I was uncomfortable…” I pause, not wanting to admit this, but I need to give him something. This will likely happen again. “I was uncomfortable because I’ll always be wary of men, Riot.”
Because of what happened to me. I don’t say those words, but I don’t need to. He instantly understands what I’m talking about.
His brows come together, not in pity or sympathy but something deeper. “Do you feel uncomfortable around me?”
I swallow the lump in my throat. I don’t know how to answer that without making shit weird between us.
“Do I scare you?” he presses when I don’t answer.
“No.” It’s the truth. “Never.”
You’re the only place I ever feel safe.
He studies every inch of my face, searching. “You just sayin’ that?”
Shit, he’s not going to believe me unless I explain. “He— Link— took so much from me, not just my choices and my dreams. He stole my security, my safety. I didn’t think I’d ever get that back, but I have.” My mouth is suddenly dry. Just say it. Give him this, even if he throws it back in your face. My hands tremble. “But the only time I ever feel safe… is… is when I’m with you.”
I kiss my daughter’s hair, too scared to look at him, too scared of what I’ll see.
“You don’t see the monster everyone else does?”
“No.”
“I’m a criminal, Vee.” He tells me something I already know. “I’ve done shit that would make you sick if you knew about it. How am I any less of a monster than him?”
He has no idea how good he is.
“Because I’ve seen real monsters, Riot. I laid next to one for months. I’m not saying you’re a Boy Scout, and I’m sure you’ve done shit—I kind of think it comes with the kutte—but I’ve never once been afraid you’d hurt me or cross boundaries. I’ve never once worried you’d take something from me that I didn’t freely give. So, I’m not scared of you, and I never will be. I don’t care what you’ve done or what you’ll do. It’ll never be as bad as what he did.”
His jaw tightens, his eyes hard as he lets out a sharp exhale. “You were too good for that prick. And you are safe with me,” he says. “I’d rather put a knife in my chest than think you’re afraid of me for even a second.”
Dramatic as hell , but my heart still swoons.
“And I’m sorry if you’re pissed at what just happened,” he doesn’t sound sorry at all, “but I won’t apologise for it either. That bastard might’ve been your friend in school, but class is out, Ivy. He ain’t a kid anymore, and neither are you. He was lookin’ at you like you were fresh meat on his plate, and you didn’t show that was a mutual thing. So, you ain’t goin’ anywhere with him ‘cause I don’t trust him with you.”
I stare at him, my heart rattling in my chest. The possessiveness should scare me as I’ve lived under control before. But this? It feels different.
“I have to live my life,” I say softly.
“I ain’t sayin’ you shouldn’t, but not with that prick.”
“Then with who, Riot? I don’t exactly have a line of men queuing up to date me. It’s not like I bring anything to the table in a relationship.”
His brows knit together, his anger flashing. “You bring plenty to the table.”
I scoff at him and push to my feet, grabbing the handle of the pram. This is too much, too deep. He’s seeing too much, and I’m feeling more than I want.
Riot follows, keeping pace with my punishing strides. He’s hurt, so I should slow down, but I can’t. I need to escape.
“Vee, stop.”
I don’t. I keep running from him, but I can’t resist throwing over my shoulder, “Sure, I’m such a great catch. I’m sure no one will notice the line of baggage I’m dragging behind me. Maybe I can add that to my dating profile.”
I don’t know why I’m still arguing. I don’t want to be with Jackson. Whatever I felt for him is as dead as the girl I was back then.
I don’t want to date either, not unless it’s the man chasing me through the park while I unravel.
Riot grabs my arm, and I have no choice but to stop. His fingers are firm, but they don’t bite into my skin.
“What the fuck, Ivy?”
My chest tightens as I tear out of his grasp, the air too thin to draw in.
“It’s not like it’s not true. And you don’t have to worry about Jackson. The second he finds out about my past, he’ll disappear anyway.” My tone is bitter. “Jackson has a reputation to uphold. I’m not the girl he’d sit at the family dinner table, Riot. Maybe he’ll fuck me, though, because that’s all I’m good for. That’s all I’ll ever be good for.” My voice shatters as tears burn my eyes.
Riot grabs my face between his hands, and I gasp in surprise, not fear. There’s both anger and maybe anguish in his eyes.
“I don’t ever want to hear you talk like that again, understand?” My eyes are burning, but I continue to hold my tears back. I’ve already embarrassed myself enough.
“I hear you,” I say quietly, turning away. I want this over. “It doesn’t matter, anyway. No one could ever…” I break off, my voice cracking as the emotions I am trying to hold back fracture.
“Could ever what?”
Love me.
The answer sits on the tip of my tongue, but it sounds pathetic. I am pathetic.
“Could what?” he repeats.
“Forget it. Can we just go home? I’m tired, and Seren’ll need feeding soon.”
He doesn’t move, making it clear this conversation isn’t over yet, at least for him.
“Those thoughts in your head are poison, Ivy, and they ain’t yours. It’s your shithead ex sayin’ that crap, and none of it is true.” How does he do that? How does he see through it all? “You’re worth a hundred thousand million times more than any of us deserve.”
I feel like I’m suffocating as his fingers brush my hair behind my ear. The move is so gentle, so loving that I choke down a sob.
“Any man would be lucky to have you in his life,” he continues. “That cunt ex of yours doesn’t have a place in your future anymore. You have to let him go.”
“I have.”
“No, you haven’t. You wouldn’t be thinkin’ this shit if you had.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Sweetheart, you don’t apologise for what you feel. You went through a hell that would destroy most people, and I’m not gonna sit here and feed you bullshit about how strong you are. You already know that.”
I swipe at a tear careening down my cheek. Fragile, pathetic… I feel everything, and I hate it.
“If this is a pep talk, it sucks, Riot.”
His laugh is soft. “If you’d let me finish…”
“Sorry.”
“What I was gonna say is you ain’t alone in any of this. You have to face those parts of your past that make you feel less than or insecure or scared, but you don’t have to do it alone.” His finger hooks under my chin, so tender, so at odds with the roadmap of violence marking his face. “I’ll be the strength holdin’ you up when you’re gonna fall, Vee, but I can’t fight the demons you carry in here.” He presses a fingertip to my temple. “That’s all on you.”
I get lost in his eyes and the intensity behind them as he drinks in every drop of me.
“And yeah, someone could love you, Ivy.” I twitch as he says it, at how he knew from my unspoken words where my head had gone. “Because you’re easy to love, despite what you think.”
“I…” My tongue feels glued to the roof of my mouth, too thick and too cumbersome to get out the words I want.
Something flashes in his eyes before he says, “If you wanna date that guy, then date him, but don’t do it because you feel you need it to be healed. Do it because you want to.” He hesitates, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. “Do you want him?”
I don’t. I want the man in front of me. I want the man who looks at my daughter like she’s his. The man who tells me I’m strong when I feel weak. The man who gives me safety without even realising it.
I want Riot .
But it won’t happen. Riot sees me as a kid still, and he would never risk his relationship with his brother, not even for me.
My heart aches, cracking my chest open. “No,” I say quietly, “I don’t want him.” Then I give the lie, the one that protects my heart. “I don’t want anyone.”
I walk away, my fingers tightening around the handle of the pram, and I have to bite back the tears stinging my eyes.