Page 40 of Ride or Die

“Oh.” The word slipped out on a soft breath, and all the fight went out of her. “I guess. Yes.” She dropped her gaze.

“Good.”

A shiver of warmth cascaded over her shoulders, and she wiggled down in her bed. Saint helped himself to blankets from the basket, and she tossed him a pillow from her bed without another word.

Riley was pretty sure he fell asleep before she did.

Chapter 10

Riley

Everything was tight and hot, and Riley couldn’t breathe. Her lungs were concrete, her eyes wide open, staring into the pitch black. She couldn’t get her mouth open to scream. The pressure around her chest built and built until she jerked upright and a gasp ripped out.

Her cheeks were wet.

She scrambled for the light and switched it on, obliterating the blackness that clawed at her. She wrapped her arms tight around her knees like shrinking might save her. It used to.

She concentrated on trying to draw breath into dead lungs and told herself that it wasn’t real, there was air, she could breathe.

“Hey, you okay?”

She jerked at the deep voice, barely audible in the soft light. Her lungs didn’t work. She clenched her knees tighter.

Ragged panting filled the space, and she pressed her hands against her face.

“I’m going to sit next to you.” Saint’s voice was closer than before, and the bed dipped. His hands were open in his lap, little scars crisscrossing his skin.

“You’re in your apartment. You’re sitting on your bed. I stayed on your couch. We drank wine and coffee, and there’s water next to you.” His voice rumbled through her, chasing the pitch black farther and farther away. Slowly, her chest loosened, and the ragged sounds quieted.

“Hey there.” His face was so calm and steady and understanding. Tears dripped around her hands, and she wiped them on her sweatpants. Her fingers found his, and she traced the spiderweb lines across his knuckles.

“What happened?” The dry rasp peeled her throat. She touched each small scar, one by one. Counted them.

“Cookie happened. He had very sharp little teeth and didn’t like me,” Saint said in that same calm tone. A wet laugh choked her, and she coughed until she could breathe again. White ringed her fingers where she held his hand too tightly. She raised her face to his and found his black coffee gaze had melted to warm chocolate.

The lamplight made the edges of his face sharper.

Her breathing evened out, and he stayed with her for every heartbeat, each slower than the last. She edged closer, watching him carefully. If you want to know something, just ask.

Riley took a steadying breath. “Can I sit with you?” And by “with” she meant “on.”

A hint of that darkness edged his warm gaze. “Of course,” he said.

Riley crawled into his lap, and he rearranged himself around her. His arms slowly tightened. She breathed in and out, pushing the edges of the blackness farther and farther out.

“Does it help to talk about it?”

Riley shrugged. “I haven’t tried. They didn’t happen… before.”

Saint hummed, resting his chin on her head. “Before what?”

He asked like it wasn’t a big deal. She didn’t talk about this to anyone but her counsellor. Not even Kristi.

“Two years ago. Before my ex and I broke up.” Her voice hitched. “It was pretty bad.”

“Your ex the cop?” he asked. She nodded against him. Of course he’d connect it to earlier. His arms flexed for a moment, settling her closer.

“What happened?”