Ready Or Not (The Hunter’s Club #2)

Chapter 41

41

Let It Go (with Lo Spirit) - Chandler Leighton

I wake to the sound of whimpers.

I jerk up. The room is dark, and it takes me a second to recognize where I am.

Riley’s room.

There’s another whimper. It’s coming from the couch. I squint. Riley is lying there. Dreaming. Acting like she’s in pain.

I swallow. I’ve had nightmares before. When I had them, my ex used to wake me up, which was both a relief and horrifying. Then, not only did I have to feel the pain, but I had to feel it in front of him while not being able to explain it.

I’m torn, feeling something odd for Riley despite all the things she’s done. I realize with a start, that I care.

Riley turns on the couch like she can’t get comfortable.

In a moment of weakness, I grab the top blanket and drag it over to her. I lay it softly on her, then creep back to my bed.

The whimpers stop, and Riley sucks in a breath. Then, she bolts up on the couch, her gaze flinging everywhere.

I freeze, not having fully made it back down on the bed. Riley and I make eye contact, and then she glances at the blanket over her.

Her eyes darken, and she glares at me.

I swallow.

“Did you touch me?”

“No, I–”

“Manson!” Riley shouts, startling me. “Let me fucking out of here!” She grips her hair, jumping up and pacing.

I’m frozen on the bed. I fucked up. I shouldn’t have woken her.

Riley targets the snacks on top of the dresser, shoving them off violently. They crash to the floor.

“I’m gonna kill you, Manson!” She rips her hair again, sucking in heavy breaths. Then, they turn to laughter. She laughs, turning in circles in the room. “Mansooon. I just need a lighter. Just one little lighter.”

I see the pain around her eyes despite her laughter. Then, Riley locks eyes with me.

She grins at me, frozen in her spot. Then, she takes a step forward. “No space. I’m stuck.”

It sounds like she’s pleading with me.

I inch back. “Uh…”

Riley’s smile widens.

“You can have the bed.” I try to scoot to the other side.

Riley stops, and suddenly, she’s staring at me, but she’s no longer there. She blinks, then reaches up to rip her hair again. “No bed,” she mutters absently. “No beds. Ever. I don’t do beds.”

Suddenly, her statement sinks into me with brutal clarity. That was little Riley who just talked to me, not adult Riley. And at this moment, my heart breaks for her.

Riley goes back to pacing.

“It’s okay,” I say softly, “I don’t do armchairs.”

Riley yanks her hair again, then looks at me. Something peeks through the blank look in her eyes.

I sink back onto the bed more. “Especially not green ones.”

Something flashes in Riley’s eyes. She seems to wrestle for a second, holding my gaze like a lifeline. I don’t know what she needs from me, but I hold her look. I feel like she’s staring deep into my soul, and fear rocks my core. She’ll see me deep down. She’ll see me and unravel me.

But her gaze is panicked. Like she…needs this.

So I hold it for agonizing seconds as Riley’s gaze wrestles in front of me.

Finally, her gaze sinks back to that expressionless one I usually see her wear, but it’s less pained. Her eyes have relaxed.

“Didn’t know you hated green.” She shrugs. “You hear that, Manson? She hates your eyes.”

I bark out a laugh.

Riley flashes me a tiny smile, and despite everything, it looks real.