His Trouble Maker

Chapter 137

JESSICA

I want to die.

:

I can die right here and can only think of Grayson and Pierce.

My whole body aches and I sob a little harder not caring if Riot will hear me.

After he… After what Theo did to me, he throws me back into the cell like he did not violate me.

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I sob and shake my head and sob again because I can’t stop him. Suddenly I’m that omega, young, stupid and weak who cannot stop anyone who tries to hurt her.

I don’t care if Riot hears me. I don’t care if he laughs. I don’t care if he howls.

I just need this to stop.

But it doesn’t.

It keeps happening in my head, in my skin, in the stretch that won’t close. It keeps happening like a looped prayer I can’t un–pray. I blink and he’s still inside me. I breathe and it still smells like him–wine, spit, copper, god.

Why is this happening to us.

I don’t mean the pack. I don’t mean wolves. I mean me and Grayson and Pierce. I mean the way we look at each other like maybe we’ll get out, like maybe we can survive it if we stay stitched together, but I’m coming apart, I’m leaking through the seams and no one is stopping it, no one is even looking.

Why is this happening to me.

I was good. I was obedient. I wore the collar, I bowed my head. I didn’t fight. I never fought. I took what they gave me, even when it burned, even when it made me shake so bad I couldn’t stand.

And still it wasn’t enough.

I try to curl up, try to make myself smaller, I fucking try to unlove Grayson so why…why?!

I sob again, harder this time, choking on it. I press my palm flat over my mouth like that’ll stop the sounds but they keep coming, keep pushing out around my fingers, wrecked little whimpers like a pup left out in the cold, forgotten, wrong.

want no one to ever touch me again. I want Riot to break the door down and I want him to stay the fuck away. I want Grayson to tell me I’m still his and I want Pierce to bite me until I forget what Theo made me

of

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Chapter 137

I think maybe

I don’t

Not after this.

know how many hours or days

:

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tried once, hours ago—maybe longer–tried to scream for Grayson, for Pierce, for Riot, for anyone, but all that came out was a wet rasp, a sob curling wrong in

“Riot?”

Nothing.

mouth, eyes stinging from salt and shame and

“Riot.”

“Riot, are–are you-?”

bars, slick with blood not mine, something crusted and

metal, tongue stupid from

Someone.

groan. Barely. A drag of chain across floor

not real,” he

iron until it

“Kill….me.”

crawl closer, but I don’t know if the chain is real. I don’t know if Riot’s body is still attached or if he bled

closer to a sob, closer to a

puddle that smells like me and him and Theo and a thousand hours of not–clean–enough suffering

hold the lie. “But I need your fucking eyes open. I need your body breathing. I need–I need you alive enough to

9:34 Thu, Sep 4

Chapter 137

(64)

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body fall flat, cheek down against stone like it’ll listen better if I lower myself enough. “You need to get here. We need to be touching, I can’t–can’t do this if we’re

little closer. “Come on, Riot,

like his death is radiating ahead of him, like I’m pulling him back from the edge just by leaking louder, sobbing harder,