Page 307 of Fatality

It doesn't matter where I am.

I could be taking a shit in my loft, and I'd hear him breaking in, only for him to wait until I'm done and out of the shower.

Then I'd find him there, naked and furious. Most of the time covered in blood.

He'd throw himself at me like a man possessed, and devour me that leaves me completely wrecked.

Afterward, he'd become slightly distant, telling me who he'd had to kill, who he'd trained that day, how the gang was doing, the races to after listening to my day and getting all possessive and threatened to rip the men members that I tattooed.

Every. Single. One.

Then, without warning, he'd roughly haul me to the shower and scrub both of us clean before pressing a kiss to my forehead and walking out.

The first day he did that, I burst into his garage with the dagger and threaten him to kill him if he keeps using me like a hole to let out his frustration.

He just laughed when I did that, flicked my forehead, pulled me in a devouring kiss and released me before going back to his Charger, elbow deep in.

Since, when he'd walk out, an hour later he'd be back, tossing a bag of food onto the table and ordering me to eat before flashing me a cocky wink.

I’m so lost, I can’t even think without him barging in—real life or in my thoughts and I hate it.

So now the girls are dragging me through District 6—The entertainment district.

“Come on, Riv!” Charlie beams. “You need a spa day or a day full of alcohol!”

I groan but let her drag me along anyway.

“We're totally doing one of those laser spas where they shoot lasers at your face and it tickles.” Jules glances down at her comm.

I grimace. The fuck does she mean?

“What?” I ask.

“Yeah! The laser pierces your skin and it tickles. It's supposed to relax your facial muscles.” Charlie giggles. “With all the faces you keep making, I'm sure you need it, Riv.”

I gasp dramatically.

“You cunt!” I laugh. “You think they have lasers for your brain? You clearly need a few more neurons.”

Jules bursts out laughing.

“She definitely does!”

“Hey!” Charlie yelps, offended, punching my shoulder. “It's called prioritizing the important things.”

She scoffs.

“Yeah, prioritizing... sure.” I chuckle, rubbing my shoulder.

I needed this.

This week has been a complete mess. After everything that's happened, I always need these two degenerates to make me laugh and, even if it's only for a little while, forget what a fucking disaster my life has become.

In the middle of the street, I suddenly stop, wrench my arm free, and sprint toward a nearby corner.

“Wh—Riven!” Charlie and Jules shout at the same time.

They catch up to me, panting and worried.