Page 29 of Mortals and Mayhem
I can’t hear what he’s about to say, so I cut him off. “Enzo, you don’t know a fucking thing about me. Let alone how I feel. You’ve stayed away for weeks. Weeks, Enzo. So, if I say I’m fucking fine and just want to be alone, take it at face value and leave. Me. The. Fuck. Alone.” I annunciate each of the last words slowly and loudly so he can absorb the seriousness of them and share it with the others. I mean them, every single word, I really do. I think.
“Not gonna fuckin’ happen, Riley.” Enzo stands unmoving in my doorway.
A snort echoes down the hall from the living room. One of the others, I assume Wild. He would find amusement in my suffering.
Anger at the lot of them. At life. At fucking everything and everyone turns to rage boiling inside of me. “I don’t fucking care what you want, Enzo. I said fucking no,” I protest loudly, I’m sure our neighbors on the third floor can hear us from our penthouse on the twenty-fifth.
“Riley, get the fuck up, take a shower, then get your fine ass out here for dinner.” Gods, Enzo has no tact.
“Seriously, Enzo. If you don’t get the fuck out of here, I swear to the gods that you will regret your decision to be seen by me again.” Yeah, I’ve taken to threatening violence now, but to be fair, the man refuses to respect me or my space.
“What are you going to do, Riley? Knee me in the balls like you did to Cree? You wouldn’t be the first female to take a knee to me, and I doubt you’ll be the last,” Enzo proclaims with a sigh, coming to sit on the edge of my bed.
“I get it. I’ve been where you are.” A myriad of emotions play across his face—an internal debate warring through his mind. He has scars, ones he’s trying to hide, and for a second, I wonder if he’ll let me see them.
He stays quiet too long, and I snap. “How can you compare our stories when you don’t know shit about mine?”
His lids drift shut as he takes a steadying breath, seemingly steeling himself for a fight. His shoulders square and back straightens before he opens his eyes and meets my gaze. There’s so much guilt and pain darkening the gold of his brown eyes. Like a knife, it slices through me as if it’s my own.
“Because I see in you what I see every time I look in the mirror. Loss. Grief. Anger.” A tear trails down my cheek because only truths ring in his words. He catches my tear before it hits the sky-blue comforter draped over my legs. Staring at the lone tear in his hand, he continues, “Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me you haven’t been sitting here for three days reflecting on all that you’ve lost. On the guilt that you’re still here and they’re not. On the anger of what was taken from you. On the empty feeling in the center of your chest that feels like it’s just swallowing you whole.”
He lets the lone tear drip off the palm of his hand into my open one that rests unmoving in my lap. Reaching up, he brushes away the tears now rolling down my face. “Tell me you haven’t thought about how much easier it would be if you could just turn it all off and not feel it. That for just one moment of silence in your head, it would be worth it.” The tears flow freely down my cheeks. Cupping my face in both his hands, he whispers, “I told you before—I know you, Riley Wright.”
This wasn’t what I was expecting when Enzo came busting into my room. His words are penetrating the walls I’ve built up around my mind, heart, and soul. No—he isn’t just penetrating them; he’s taking a fucking bulldozer to them. The flood gates are erupting behind my eyes, and the tears come rushing forward as he speaks the truths no one else ever sees. He sees everything, though. I haven’t truly seen him, but somehow, he saw me. Not the mask I wear to keep them all at arm’s length but behind that, into me.
Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck.
“No, Enzo,” I sob, shaking my head as though that will make the truths less real. “You don’t know me. You don’t know the story behind me.”
“Riley, I don’t need to know the specifics behind your story. I can see how lost, hurt, and angry you are. I can see that you don’t know where to put those feelings. More than that, I can see you need someone. Someone to understand, to help, to guide, to just be here. You can share your story when you’re ready, there’s no rush. But, Riley, you need an outlet for everything else. If you don’t find an out for all you are feeling, you’ll be swallowed. Coming back from that is a bitch.”
Enzo slides a little closer to me, leaning back to rest against the headboard. I nod my head in understanding and glance away. We sit in silence for a while. It’s not an awkward silence, more of a companionable silence, both of us contemplating the future or the past, probably both. It doesn’t take long before my wolf’s urge to be closer to him wins out, and I agree with her that we need some comfort, so I lean over, resting my head in his lap. The tears flow in slow streams, and Enzo’s hand comes to rest on my head, his fingers playing in my hair. When the silence starts to linger and my brain starts to turn wicked again, threatening to break the flood gates wide open once more, I ask, “Will you share your story, your darkness, with me?”
Enzo’s hand stills in my hair, and he takes a short breath, then answers, “When you’re ready to share, maybe I will be, too. Right now, though, we have dinner to prepare for.” At his words, I bury my face in his thigh with a groan, and he chuckles as he pats me on the head. Totally worth it for that glimpse of lighthearted playfulness. “Sorry, darling,” he says, still laughing as he lifts my head and stands from the bed, putting his hand out to help me up.
“Fucking hell, seriously?” I grumble, placing my hand in his. He hauls me up so fast I fly into him, knocking into his firm chest with my elbow. My free hand comes up to steady myself while his catches my hip. Gods, I remember the feel of his body against mine, the way his reacted to mine. The feel of his hands. His hot breath on my skin.
“Dinner, abso-fucking-lutely. You need to eat. We know you haven’t been.”
“Ugh.” I roll my eyes and push away from him, heading for the bathroom. Just that quickly, the heat that was building inside me is snuffed out by the overbearing, overprotective, insanely hot asshole. Secretly, I think I love the way they care for me, though. But I’ll never tell them that. Nope. That’s my little secret, and I’m not sharing.
Chapter 22
RILEY
Dinner consists of three-cheese lasagna, side salad, and breadsticks. According to Axel—I need more carbs in my diet, and Wild is all too happy to comply with the doctor’s orders. And let me just say, you won’t find me complaining, the man can fucking cook. The explosion of complementing flavors on my tongue is like an orgasm in my mouth. The first bite of this heavenly goodness had me moaning around my fork, and the guys split between groaning and laughing.
Aside from the delicious meal we’re sharing, this evening is turning out to be a fucking somber affair. The men have spent most of the meal together staring at me as if I have four heads. Like I’m a creature they’ve never seen before and are worried I’ll attack without notice. At one point, I even took to checking my reflection in my spoon just to ensure I didn’t in fact have four heads. That at least got a laugh out of them and loosened some of the tension at the table.
Enzo sits to my right, watching the rise and fall of my fork the whole time. I swear, he’s been counting the number of times I pick it up and take a bite. I scoop up a mouthful of pasta goodness and turn towards Enzo. With a grin, I stick the fork in my mouth, close my eyes, and moan around the mouthful.
“That good, huh?” he asks, humor filling every word.
“The fucking best,” I mumble as I chew, causing him to laugh and continue with his own dinner, thankfully satisfied that I will eat every last bite.
Wild sits on my left, his bright and friendly personality on full display as he tries to start lighthearted conversations. Under normal circumstances, he’d be so easy to get along with. He has one of those smiles that immediately puts you at ease the moment you see it. Unfortunately, the weight of worry and concern in the room is suffocating the easy happy-go-lucky atmosphere he’s aiming for.
Reed and Cree have been on edge since I exited my room thirty minutes ago. From their rigid posture and never-ending penetrating stares to the tick of their jaws, I know they have something to say. And if I had to guess, it has everything to do with my behavior these last three days—hell, the last two years. Thankfully for them, they’re smart enough to keep their fucking mouths shut.But, honestly, I can’t fault them. If I were them, I’d have a few choice words to say to me, too.