“Are we safe?”
I turn, cup her face again, lean my forehead to hers, and breathe the truth she deserves:
“You’re safe.”
Thunder cracks above us, shaking the entire underground chamber.
Another blow hits the door.Then another.Metal bends.
Kelly’s breath stutters.My grip tightens.
And something inside me, something primal, ancient, brutal surges into place.
I kiss her forehead.Her temple.Her cheek.
Rapid, anchoring kisses that aren’t about passion but survival.
Then I whisper against her skin: “I won’t lose you.Not tonight.Not ever.”
She nods, eyes shining with tears and fire.“Okay,” she breathes.“Okay, Riot.I trust you.”
The pounding grows louder.I step in front of her and raise my gun.
If they want a war tonight, they’re about to learn what it costs to threaten what’s mine.
Twenty
Kelly
I may not remember everything, but I remember enough.
The pounding at the steel door grows so violent the floor trembles under my feet.Dust rains from the low ceiling, mixing with the bitter taste of fear on my tongue.Riot stands between me and the staircase, broad shoulders squared, gun raised, fury radiating off him in waves.
Not panic.Not fear.
Fury.
Like he’s ready—eager—to rip apart whatever’s trying to get in.
“Stay behind me,” he repeats, low and lethal.
I grip the gun he handed me earlier.It feels wrong in my hand, foreign, heavy, too full of consequences for someone who can’t even remember her own life.
But I remember this, Riot’s voice steadying me.His hands on mine when he taught me…Wait.
My breath catches.
A memory hits me like a punch to the chest.
Not a flash.A full moment.
Riot behind me in an open space behind the clubhouse, hands wrapped around mine, adjusting my grip on something small and metal.
‘You trust me?’he asked.
‘Yeah,’ I whispered.
‘Then do exactly as I tell you.That’s how you stay alive.’
