His Trouble Maker

Chapter 88

JESSICA

“Grayson?”

“Grayson?”

Where is he?

I check the front door Unlocked. Slightly open. A gust of early morning air rushes in and my grip on the blanket tightens.

Did he… go back to the pack village?

I drag the blanket around me tighter, clumsily stepping back inside. My body still hurts from last night. A blush creeps up my cheeks, stupid and stubborn. We really… outdid it.

He was feral last night. Brutal. Gentle. All of it. I didn’t know you could be worshipped and devoured in the same breath. I didn’t know someone could touch you like they’re starving and still somehow make you feel safe.

I press my fingers to my throat and feel the faintest trace of a bite. Not a full mark. But close. So close it makes me dizzy.

I wander toward the kitchen, dragging the blanket along the floor behind me. It catches on the corner of a chair and nearly yanks me off my feet.

“Grayson?” I call again, quieter this time.

Still no answer.

The silence is starting to get… heavy.

And that’s when the front door slams open.

I jolt.

A cold burst of wind blows in–and then Riot steps inside with some bruises on his face.

I quickly went and tried to touch it but he rejected me. “W–What happened?”

Riot drags a breath in through his nose, jaw clenched so tight I hear it crack. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

like I’m the one who needs help.” He spits the words like venom, wiping his

the blanket tighter around my body. It’s still warm where Grayson’s

steps closer, limping slightly. His boots drag over the floor like it hurts to walk but he doesn’t care. “Didn’t mean to? Didn’t plan it? Or

reel back like he punched me. My heel knocks against the edge of the sofa. The blanket slips, baring one shoulder,

forget,” I whisper. “It’s not like

it’s

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Chapter 88

my head.

feel it? Every time he touched you–I felt it. It’s

My skin burns. I glance at his mouth–split,

I say, voice low. “You know I

sharp. Cold. You just asked for him, didn’t

it,” I choke

done. He’s barely

rough with me. My breath catches. His fingers are cold–calloused,

gaze up.

“Look at me, Jess.”

I can’t. Because if I look at him, really look,

is tight. One side of his mouth is cracked and crusted with dried blood. I don’t know if it was Grayson’s fist or his own damn pride that did it, but it hurts to look at him like

even fucking hesitate,” he snarls, voice low but

“Riot-”

“I trusted you,” he

“I’m not,” I whisper.

the edge of the counter with a gasp, blanket slipping, clutching it tighter around me. His body is

close–and I see it

He’s breaking.

does it. With

like him,” Riot snarls. “Fucking stinks in

out,” I snap, but my voice wavers. “Just–go.

slam down on either side of me. I flinch. His nose brushes the shell of my ear. “You let him

taught me how to break

my body remembers that