CHAPTER 38
Riven
Let The World Burn For You – Chris Grey
Ipush myself up, gasping and coughing, horror filling my eyes. Liam is being strangled by Evren.
When I take a step forward, I sway slightly, the oxygen probably rushing back to my brain.
My knees give out, and I collapse to the floor.
My own boyfriend just tried to kill me.
How could he? I thought he was the only person safe enough for me to be around.
Liam loved me but he also loved me enough to make sure I never left him—not in any way he couldn’t control.
Why was I even with him in the first place?
He was kind, patient, loving. But sex was always gentle, almost too gentle.
From the very beginning, he always finished, I never did.
I tried so many times to tell him about my brother, about my parents, about my past, my true past.
He comforted me, but he never really listened.
I never got the chance to simply say, Oh, by the way, my brother is dead, and my parents have hated me since the day I was born.
Maybe he preferred the version of me he had built in his head, the heiress girlfriend. Just rebellious enough to have a little spice, just broken enough to be perfectly manageable.
I don't know.
He’s the kind of person who wants everything perfect and when something cracks… He throws money at it, hoping it’ll fix itself.
I look up and see that Liam has stabbed Evren, I flinch as if I'd been the one stabbed.
Not because I care about Evren but because I've never seen Liam fight.
Never seen him defend me when another man got too close. Never seen him become violent.
And yet he nearly strangled me over a shirt, and because I didn't—couldn't—answer him while my comm was sitting here.
I don't even recognize the man standing in front of me.
Evren doesn't hide who he is, I envy him for that.
He's unhinged, violent. He takes whatever he wants, whenever he wants, boundaries and the no-no square are nonexistent for him.
To Evren, they're just things meant to be crossed. He's completely unapologetic.
But at least he's himself and I don't think he'd ever change for anyone.
The screams of Liam are pure horror and pain,
Why did Evren save me? It wasn't out of the goodness of his heart. That's for sure but he saved me anyway.
I owe him that.
I push myself up and sway to the kitchen, and freeze, Evren is cutting Liam wrist, for what?
For putting those hands around my throat and almost kill me?
I almost throw up at the sight, the flesh, the blood everywhere splattering Evren, Liam is almost out.
But the worst part is the sound of it and the screams.
It’s a slaughter.
My hands fly to my mouth to stop myself from vomiting right there.
I shake my head, I need it to stop.
Not because I want to protect Liam, but because I can’t have a severed hand and a dead body in my loft.
I run as fast as I can, grab a frying pan, and swing it at Evren’s temple.
“What the fuck are you doing, Evren?!”
His head snaps to the side before slowly turning back toward me.
His eyes flick to my throat, then to the pan.
I sway, my head spinning. Adrenaline is the only thing keeping me on my feet. My vision swims, and every attempt to swallow sends a sharp stab of pain through my throat.
But we argue, I scream, he screams.
The scream rips through my throat like broken glass. My voice cracks halfway through, dissolving into a hoarse cough that leaves my neck throbbing.
I’m not protecting him, I’m not protecting Liam. I’m protecting myself from Evren’s actions.
I swing the pan again.
He lunges at me, catches my wrist, and his other hand comes up to my throat.
Is he going to kill me too? I flinch.
Just the feeling of a hand on my neck is enough to make me recoil.
My body recoils on instinct, the memory of Liam's hands around my throat still burned into me.
But the pressure never comes, I open my eyes slowly only to feel his thumb doing circles on my pulse, his head is so close to me, his nose brushing mine.
My heart skips a beat, my lips parts, I don’t know what to do, what to say, my hand with the pan is still in the air, stopped mid-swing.
His scent fills my nostrils, I gulp with difficulties, it hurts just to swallow my own saliva.
When he says all of this, without any fucked up comments, it’s like Evren is another person.
He holds my gaze
“Wh-what?” I whisper.
“You heard me, you are mine, and anyone who dares to touch you, is a dead body.”
“Let go, Evren.” I look away.
I know he will not let go, he is not like this, the word no is unknown to him.
But do I really want him to let go?
I want him to fucking hate me as much as I hate him, and yet, with that situation, I think, maybe, that I need him.
I don’t want him to murder Liam, but right now, the biggest monster in the room is the safest.
Why the hell am I thinking that?
Never.
He is not safe, he is a cheater.
“Don’t touch me Evren,” My voice raspy “Your girl must be wondering where the fuck you are.”
Suddenly he drops his bloodied hands and steps back.
His eyes hardening.
“Who the fuck are you talking about?”
“The blonde with the pink streaks at the race, you’re a cheater. You disgust me.”
“That bitch at the race? She is just a cunt I used to fuck, that’s all. I don’t owe you an explanation, she is not my girl.”
He runs a hand in his hair, the blood making it slicked back
“No one is. I don’t do that shit. Especially with a fake one.”
I lower my gaze to Liam.
He’s bleeding out, barely conscious, whimpering as he clutches his half-severed wrist.
My jaw tightens, it’s disgusting, I can see bone and the blood vessels, his skin cut, it makes me want to throw up.
But why do I keep thinking he almost deserves it? Am I that fucked up too?
“Get out, Evren.”
“The fuck do you mean, get out?”
“I mean get the fuck out of my house!” I shout, my chest heaving, my voice raw from my bruised throat, it burns. “You're fucking disgusting! You can't just cut people's hands off! You're not normal!”
He stares at me, his eyes narrow.
“Yes, I can.” He leans in with a smile. “And I'll do it again. If he touches you—if anyone touches you…”
He pauses.
“Again. And again. And again. Until there's no one left to touch you but me.”
I see him reach for me, I take a step back.
“Get out.”
His hand falls back to his side.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No!”
“Yes, Evren! Get the fuck out! You're a psychopath!”
“He was killing you!” he snaps.
I cough violently, my throat is killing me.
He cups my face with both hands, almost frantically, like he's checking that I'm still here.
One of his hands drifts to my bruised throat.
I don't understand him.
I can't understand him.
Liam deserved to get beaten. But having his hand cut off? Dying?
No.
“Have you,” He murmurs “Any idea how hard it is for me? I wanted to be the worst thing that ever happened to you. Instead...”
He pauses, his thumb brushing my skin.
“The thought of losing you became the worst thing that ever happened to me.”
“S-Stop…” I stutter “Sh-shut up…”
“You're real to me.” His voice drops to a whisper. “You're the only thing in this fake fucking world that feels real.”
He closes his eyes, the crimson glow disappearing beneath his eyelids.
“I can't leave, Riven.”
His forehead comes to rest against mine. His jaw clenches.
“You're annoying. I hate you. You have that spoiled, bratty rich attitude that's a pain in my fucking ass, but…” He swallows hard. “You're real.”
His fingers twitch against my bruised throat.
“And if I leave... if you disappear...” His breathing catches. “The silence comes back.”
He lets out a shaky laugh that sounds more broken than amused.
“I don't want it back.” Another pause. “I can't.”
His fingers tighten just enough for me to notice.
“So don't make me.” His forehead presses harder against mine. “Don't make me go back to the silence or I'll stop caring who lives through it.”
My heart pounds against my ribs.
I don't know what to say.
I don't know what to do with that. What the fuck is this?
He can’t say that, I must have something in my ears because there is no way Evren is saying that.
I won't let him consume me. I refuse to become another prisoner of his obsession.
I can’t. I just can’t.
“Get out, Evren.” I grab his wrist and wrench it away from my throat, away from my cheek. “You and me... whatever this is? It's not normal. Get the fuck out.”
I watch his eyes change in an instant, back to what they always are, hard, stripped of everything raw and real he just had.
His jaw clenches, I can see a muscle tick.
I don't wait to see if he actually leaves, I stumble to Liam and press both hands against his wound.
The warmth of the blood, holding in my palm the skin that is cut, feeling the bone nearly makes me throw up.
I don't look at Evren.
I can't.
Because if I do after what he just said I might let Liam die and let that motherfucker devour me entirely instead.
I'll never admit it out loud, I'll never admit it to myself again but his words, they did something to my heart, to my stomach.
I don’t want it, I can’t.
I hear footsteps, then my front door slides open and a second later, it slams shut with enough force to rattle the framed paintings hanging beside it.
I let out a shaky breath I didn't even realize I'd been holding.
“Comm!” I shout into my loft, coughing “Call the medics to my loft. Emergency—partial hand amputation.”
Somewhere in my loft, my comm beeps.
Calling emergency medical services to your registered home location. Estimated arrival: five minutes.
“Hold on, Liam.”
I keep pressure on what's left of his wrist with both of my hands, I can't put a tourniquet on his upper arm without letting go.
I'm terrified that if I do, his hand will fall off.
There is so much blood, I rather not look at it.
If I do, I will remember eleven years ago when Kyle died in my arms bleeding out.
Liam whines, his eyes rolling back.
“Hey! Hey!” I shake him slightly. “Stay with me you bastard!”
His grey-blue eyes focus on mine again, whimpering in pain.
“Riven…” He whispers.
“Don’t.” I clench my jaw. “Don’t bother, we are done. I’m just saving your life.”
He nods weakly, I keep my eyes fixed on his forehead, a focus point to not break myself.
I hear the sirens of the medics and drones.