Page 32 of Saint’s Revenge

"You did good last night. All of it. The raid, ending Demon, getting Riley out safely. I know it doesn't feel that way right now. But you did good."

I nod and head to my bedroom. I collapse onto the bed without bothering to pull back the covers. Just fall face-first into the pillow and let exhaustion drag me under.

Two days later

I wake up to the feeling of being watched.

My eyes snap open immediately, old instinct from years of sleeping in places where letting your guard down could get you killed. My hand goes to the nightstand, reaching for the gun I keep there, before my brain catches up and registers that I'm in my room at the clubhouse and there's no immediate threat.

Then I see her.

Riley is standing near the foot of my bed, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed loosely over her chest. She's wearing different clothes than the hospital gown she had on last time I saw her: soft gray sweatpants and a loose black t-shirt that's probably three sizes too big. Her hair is pulled back in a messy ponytail. The bruising on her jaw has faded from purple-black to a mottled yellow-green.

She looks better. Still hurt, still healing, but better.

And she's in my room.

I sit up too fast, the blankets falling away, and that's when I remember, I'm wearing nothing but briefs that leave very little to the imagination. Riley's eyes drop. Then widen slightly. Then a smile tugs at the corner of her mouth.

"Well," she says, and there's laughter in her voice. "Good morning to you too."

Heat floods my face. I grab for the blankets, trying to cover myself, which only makes her smile wider.

"Jesus Christ, Riley—" I'm fumbling with the sheets like a teenager caught by his parents. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough." She pushes off the doorframe, takes a few steps into the room. Still moving slow, still favoring her ribs, but moving on her own. "You've been asleep for two days, Lucas. I was starting to wonder if you'd ever wake up."

"Two days?" I stop fighting with the blankets. Stare at her. "What do you mean two days?"

"I mean you passed out forty-eight hours ago and didn't wake up once. Not for food, not for water, nothing." She lowers herself onto the edge of my bed, wincing slightly as she settles. "Phoenix said to let you sleep. Said you'd been running on fumes since the raid and your body finally gave out."

I process that. Two full days unconscious while Riley was healing without me there to monitor her. "You should have woken me up. What if something had happened? What if you'd had complications or—"

"Eden checked on me every few hours. So did Canvas. And Nora." Riley holds up a hand, ticking off fingers. "I've been poked, prodded, monitored, and fussed over more in the last two days than I have in my entire life. I'm fine, Lucas. See? Still breathing."

She's sitting close enough that I can smell her strawberry soap and clean laundry. The same scent I remember from when we were kids sharing space in too-small rooms during too-long nights.

And I'm still basically naked.

"I should—" I gesture vaguely at myself. "I should put on clothes."

"If you want." Her eyes haven't left mine. "But you don't have to. Not on my account."

"Yeah?"

"You know what I realized while you were unconscious for two days?" She shifts slightly, turning to face me. "I realized I almost died without ever telling you how I felt. Without ever being honest about what you meant to me."

My heart is pounding. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying I'm done being scared." Her voice is steady despite the tremor I can hear underneath. "I'm done pretending I didn't love you when we were kids. I'm done acting like watching you leave didn't break something in me that never fully healed."

"Riley…" My voice cracks.

"I loved you, Lucas. Loved you so much it terrified me. And I never said it because I was scared you didn't feel the same way. Scared you'd leave if you knew. Scared of ruining the only good thing in my life." She takes a shaky breath. "And then you left anyway, and I spent five years wishing I'd been brave enough to tell you before you were gone."

I can't breathe. Can't think. Can only stare at this woman who's saying everything I've been too scared to admit to myself.

"I'm not making that mistake again," she continues. "So I'm telling you now. I loved you then. I love you now. And if you don't feel the same way, that's okay. I just… I needed you to know. Before anything else happens. Before I lose my nerve again."