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I want to say maybe I do. When he’s holding me like this... taking charge of looking after me like this... I might—somewhere deep down inside—still really like Twizzlers.

But I don’t admit it. “The police are here?”

“Yeah.” He kisses the top of my head. Buries his face in my sopping hair. “But they can wait until you’re up to it. Jasper is filling them in anyway. And the story from downstairs matches with his actions to protect you.”

“Good.” I trace his jaw with my fingers. “That is what happened. Except... there was this weird moment...”

“What do you mean?”

“Everyone looked at me. Not the staff, but everyone else. It felt... prearranged. Like a horror movie coded flash mob. Like maybe Marco organized them to be a distraction. They should probably know that.”

“Jasper will tell them. Or you can fill them in when you give your statement.” Despite the slippery floor, Riot straightens to his full height with me safely tucked up in his arms. “I grabbed what you needed. We still have your products on our list.”

“You still...” But it’s not about me. He didn’t keep them, hoping I would come back. He kept them for all the women he fucked around with that weren’t me.

He drops his chin to his chest. “If I could take back everything I’ve done trying to get over you I would.”

Would he? I’m right here and he’s still engaged to another woman. Speaking of... he’s here taking care of me like I’m his only consideration. Like I’ve wanted him to for so long. “Sonatina?”

“I told her to fuck off.” He grabs two towels. One to wrap around my hair. The other to dry me off as quickly as possible.

“You did?” I can barely stand so he helps me into my panties and wipes up the spots of pink that land on the tiles.

Standing, he peels off his jacket and shirt. Dumps them in a wet pile on the floor. Kicks off his shoes and peels off his socks. He’s wearing the skateboard and cross I got him so many years ago around his neck again. “Yeah.”

I close the distance as he straightens. Touch the little skateboard. I rest my other hand on the striations at his ribs. He’s serious about us. About winning me back. “You’re finally done with her?”

He clasps my jaw with his hand and brushes away a tear with his thumb. He brushes a soft kiss on my lips. “You needed me. I’m here.”

27

Riot

Carrying her into the bedroom, I drag the covers back on the bed and put her in it. There’s a shirt on the bed. One of Bronx’s. I help her into it and the cotton covers most of her. Except for those legs.

I’ve always loved her legs and the way they always seemed to be touching me. Her feet in my lap after a long day in too tall shoes.

One of her legs across mine while we played video games.

Both around my hips...

I drag the blanket up over them to keep her warm while she curls into herself and rocks. She’s pale. Her eyes squinty. “Riot?”

“Yeah, Little Vandal?”

“It hurts.” She whimpers.

Golden better hurry the fuck up. I open the door and yell out, “Find out what is taking Golden so fucking long. We need those damn painkillers. And why hasn’t anyone brought a heat pack yet?”

“On it. I’ll get the heat pack too,” Bronx calls out. “Called Kodiak. He’s picking up supplies.”

“Great.” Kodiak had been gone when I’d gone back into the studio where the others were waiting. And he hadn’t come back by the time Rook told us about Kelsey’s run in with Marco.

I hadn’t stuck around after that. The others barely made it into the car before we peeled out of the parking spot.

Shutting the door, I go back to Kelsey. Smooth the wet strands back from her face. “Golden’s coming. He’s bringing them. It won’t be long.”

“Hold me,” she whispers, turning on her side and into the fetal position.