His Trouble Maker

Chapter 99

38

JESSICA

There’s a part of me that thinks this is just a nightmare. That if I dig my nails deep enough into my palm, I’ll wake up in my bed. Back home. Whole. Before the cell. Before Riot. Before any of this.

I keep thinking if I stand still long enough, maybe I’ll feel like myself again. Maybe the wind will scrape off whatever Riot did. Maybe I’ll stop flinching at nothing. Maybe Grayson will stop looking at me like I’m breakable.

Or worse–like I’m not.

I crossed a line. Or someone did. Or maybe we all did and now no one wants to say it first. My heat broke. The fever’s gone. But everything else–my instincts, my body, the part of me that still wants to crawl out of my skin–it’s still here.

Riot touched me like I belonged to him.

And some part of me let him.

That’s what I can’t say out loud.

It wasn’t choice. Not really. But it wasn’t exactly resistance either. It was survival. It was instinct. It was need warped into something feral and ugly.

“Grayson…“I said, turning around so I could face him. We decided to watch the sunrise earlier after our fight last night. It was something we should’ve done and I am so pathetic for saying all of those words to him.

When I look up, he looks so tired. His eyes are red and puffy and he looks like he really hasn’t gotten any sleep ever since he rescued me. There’s also a fine line on his forehead now and I wonder how much thinking he does to keep us alive.

“You look like shit,” I murmur, softer than I mean to.

He huffs out a breath through his nose–half–laugh, half–exhale. “Thanks.”

I step closer, even though my chest tightens when I do. There’s still this horrible thing inside me that wants to run the second he gets too close.

“I didn’t mean it,” I say. My voice cracks a little. “What I said last night.”

Grayson frowns as if the fight still bothers him. “Which part?”

don’t know.” I

knew that. And I guess he

it out. But it’s still there,” L whisper. “I still feel him sometimes. On my skin. In my head. Like I forgot how

bite down on the inside of my cheek. I shouldn’t be saying this to Grayson. I shouldn’t be

need him to know. Because if anyone’s going to look

slowly. Carefully. Like he’s afraid ‘ flinch. And maybe i do a little. But I don’t pull away when his fingers brush the back of my head, his palm cradling me against

part of you did he touch,

My breath catches.

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Tue, 26 Aug

Chapter 99

$ ཊཱི63%

not rough, not demanding–just… there. Anchoring. Thumb brushing my cheek like I might

Then-

bridge of my nose, warm and featherlight. A barely–there kiss, like he’s

murmurs. His breath is warm. His

slow, careful, reverent. The slope of my

“Here?”

move. I don’t want to. My lungs feel too full and too empty at the

up to my hairline, brushing a few loose strands back, and he kisses just above my eyebrow like

My senses go sharp.

lake soft and dark and

before I can stop them.

back just enough to look at

he touched

tears fall, silent and hot down my cheeks. He just kisses one. Then another. Then my jaw, just under my ear. His breath fans over

to the small of my back. His touch never strays, never shifts into something

whispers. His lips graze the corner of my mouth, not

words break

lean in. Just a little. Just enough that my forehead brushes his. My fingers curl into his

this time he kisses me

and curve–soft at first, then rougher as his intention sharpens. I taste myself–salt and fear and something foreign under his tongue–then I taste him: woodsmoke, pine, and