CHAPTER 64
Riven
The Cut That Always Bleed - Conan Gray
Ifidget with the little Charger charm in my hands, my heart pounding as I watch the race unfold on the giant screen.
I hate this, I hate speed. I'm traumatized by cars.
And I chose to stay with a monster, a gang leader, a racer.
There is genuinely something wrong with me.
Maybe I just have a talent for staying with things I shouldn’t or maybe I simply like living stressed and traumatized.
But I can’t leave, I tried and I failed.
Same for that freak.
Like he said before climbing into that damn car, we’re in deep. I'll never admit it to him, though. He'd probably grin, kiss me and become even more insufferable than he already is.
The race is brutal.
Cars and bikes smash into walls, shipping containers, and steel pipes.
Racers are hurled through windshields and launched into the air. Around me, the crowd cheers, gasps, and winces.
It's entertaining, yes.
But it's also horrifyingly violent.
Varek stands beside me, his arms crossed, his eyes never leaving the giant screen.
The muscles beneath his shirt are tense. His long hair is tied into a messy low bun, making the orange neon streaks stand out even more.
“Why aren't you racing?” I glance up at him.
He doesn't look at me but when he answers, his voice is as flat and calm as always, not unkind.
“Because during the ritual Evren does before every race,” He pauses. “He asked me to stay beside you.”
His gaze never leaves the screen.
“To make sure nothing—No one tries something stupid.” Finally, he adds, in that same perfectly level tone “If they do, I can kill freely.”
A cold shiver runs down my spine.
Damn. That was blunt and efficient.
I turn my attention back to the giant screen.
My eyes narrow, my breath catches as Evren's Charger threads perfectly through the gap between an Iron Hound's rear bumper and a concrete support.
Sparks explode along the driver's side as the door kisses the pillar.
I exhale, my shoulders finally relaxing as I turn the little Charger charm over and over between my fingers.
“He's going to give me a fucking heart attack, that bastard...” I mumble under my breath. “Not that I should fucking care.”
The race barrels on. Then, without warning, a thick white fog rolls across the course, visibility drops to zero.
My fingers tighten around the miniature Charger.
“He has ocular augmentations, Riven,” Varek says. “When his brain loses visual input while he's awake, the augmentations take over. He can see heat signatures.”
I take a deep breath then slowly let it out.
I shouldn't be worried, he knows what he's doing, he knows how to drive.
Even if it's violent.
I shouldn’t be—
A car with no gang colors suddenly bursts onto the screen and slams into Evren's Charger.
My eyes go wide.
Beside me, Varek changes completely, the calm is gone, now he's radiating restrained fury.
Evren wrestles the Charger back under control then turns and chases the unknown car.
My eyes widen, is he fucking stupid? What is he doing? Just keep racing.
Please.
From there, everything happens too fast for me to process.
The unknown car keeps coming for Evren.
Again.
Again.
He somehow keeps the Charger from smashing into the walls, missing them by inches.
My heart pounds so hard it hurts.
My grip on the little Charger charm tightens until its edges bite into my palm. I don't even feel it.
The car disappears, I finally manage to breathe—but it comes back. It rams Evren's Charger even harder.
The crowd around us gasps, some people wince and others cheer.
It all feels impossibly distant.
My eyes never leave Evren's car, the unknown vehicle veers off.
Only for an Iron Hound's car to plow straight into the Charger's passenger side. Another racer clips the rear, the Charger lifts off the ground.
It rolls, we can see the glass explode, the metal twisting and the debris rains across the track.
The Charger slams onto its roof, bounces, tears through the barriers, and rolls again before finally coming to a stop.
My heart stops, my stomach drops.
For the briefest second, my grip on the charm goes slack. Then it tightens again, matching the frantic rhythm of my breathing.
The world narrows to the giant screen, I don't hear the crowd anymore, I don't see anything else.
No.
No.
Not this.
Please.
My body moves before my mind can. I break into a run, shoving people out of my way, my eyes wide with terror.
I have to get there, I have to make sure he's okay, I have to see him.
I can't lose him.
After what feels like an eternity, with Varek right behind me, I skid to a halt in front of the wreckage.
Neo's tires screech beside the Charger. He throws his door open before the engine even dies, he sprints to Ren's side, reaches inside, drops to his knees then his face drains of color.
A second later, he forces himself back to his feet on shaking legs. A single tear tracks down his cheek.
Ren… Ren is… No.
For one frozen second, I just stare at the wreck, smoke curls into the air.
It can't be.
I finally move again, I rush past Neo, dropping to my knees in shattered glass as I scramble toward Evren's side.
“Evren!” I scream, my voice raw with panic.
I don't feel the glass or the jagged metal slicing into my hands and knees.
“Evren!” I scream again. “Answer me! Answer me!”
“Riven!” Neo shouts.
“Evren!”
I shove myself toward the shattered window.
The sight stops me cold, my eyes go wide, my heart stops.
Evren hangs upside down in the wreckage, his eyes closed. A deep gash splits open the top of his temple, blood running down his face and dripping onto the crushed roof beneath him.
“E-Evren...?” I whisper. “Evren... baby, answer me...”
I lean farther inside.
A twisted length of steel—probably torn from the Charger itself—is buried through his stomach.
My hands fly to the wound, trying desperately to stem the relentless flow of blood.
“Please... please... please, no...” My breathing breaks apart. “Not you... not again... please... please...”
Varek's and Neo's hands clamp around my upper arms. I thrash violently.
“No! Don't touch me!” I scream. “He needs... he needs to wake up!”
I wrench myself free and grab Evren's face with both hands.
“Please...” I whisper, tears spilling freely now, my voice trembling. “Don't do this to me... Wake up... please wake up, you fucking idiot... Come on... Look at me... Scream... Hit someone... Kill someone... Please, I-I’m begging you...”
I gently brush a strand from his bloodied forehead. My mind unravels, I can't think.
All I can see is the only person who's made me feel alive bleeding out between my fingers.
“Varek!” I scream. “The door! Do it now!”
“Riv...” Neo says, his own voice breaking. “It's not—”
“DO IT!”
Varek steps forward. I stumble back just enough for him to work, my legs barely hold me upright.
He tears the ruined door away, reaches inside, assesses for a few seconds and carefully frees Evren from the wreck, mindful of the bar impaled, not moving it too much.
The instant he's clear, I drop beside him. I gather his head into my lap.
“He's cold...” I whisper, rocking back and forth. “He's cold...” I repeat.
My hands press desperately against the wound. There's so much blood, too much blood.
“You have to stay!” I cry, the words ripping out of me. “You have... to... stay...”
My voice shatters.
“You can't... You said... we were in deep together...” I choke on the words. “That we... I-I promise I’ll tell you what I feel even if you mock me… I can’t lose you… please… not you… everything but not you…”
Sirens scream closer, medics rush toward us. Neo and Varek are beside me.
I don't move.
My hands are still pressed against Evren's wound, slick with his blood.
I can't breathe.
My chest seizes, clamps shut. I drag for air, but nothing comes. My ribs won't open, my lungs refuse me.
The fear has no words. There is only pressure, panic—the certainty that something precious is slipping away.
My eyes never leave him.
He's so still, too still like Kyle in my arms.
I can’t lose both, not like this, not again.
It's as though my heart has forgotten how to beat, suspended in one impossible moment between terror and loss.
Something inside me breaks.
The sound that tears from my throat isn't a scream. It's raw, primal.
A wounded, guttural cry that rips through my chest until it burns my lungs.
It doesn't sound like me. It sounds like grief given a voice—like something dying in me all over again.
I don't even know I'm crying until my vision blurs and the taste of salt reaches my lips.
All I know is that he's lying there in my arms and the world has just split in two.
I’m covered in his blood.
The medics drop to their knees around us, gentle but firm hands pull me away from him.
I fight them, I don't want to let go of him, if I let go, he will die, just like Kyle.
I can’t lose him.
I can’t.
They barely acknowledge me as scanners sweep over Evren's body, voices barking injuries and numbers I can't understand.
An emergency capsule skids to a stop beside the wreckage. Its rear hatch opens with a hiss, they secure him inside.
The doors seal shut.
A heartbeat later, the capsule surges forward, weaving through traffic under emergency priority until it disappears from sight.