Thrive (Addicted #4)

by Krista Ritchie

He’s not the greatest father, but he’s never touched me like that. He’s never abused me—not in that way. And I hate…I fucking hate that this is going to be a part of me, for the rest of my life. And every day, I’m going to have to repeat the same words over and over: My father did not molest me.

“Maybe you shouldn’t…be near me for a while.” “No,” I say. “You can’t enable me.” “Why is that?” he asks, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “Because I can withstand your charm, Loren Hale.”

FUCKING FINALLY BRB IM THROWING A FUCKING PARTY TO CELEBRATE TS

I wish. I wish. I wish. And nothing ever comes true.

My brother—unbreakable, unbendable like the rocks he climbs. Nothing can topple him. The jealousy and resentment tastes horrible.

“Maybe one day you’ll be able to outrun me.” Yeah. Maybe one day.

She flushes the toilet, and I grab my stick. “Two lines that’s…”

I thought you two were being more careful.” We weren’t. We haven’t been careful since we ditched my therapist’s blacklist. Nooners. Public sex. It has become our new routine. One that has filled us both with a sense of joy and normalcy.

approaching the pregnancy stick. Two lines. Just like mine.

Rose. What’s the probability that we both got pregnant at the same time?”

Ryke and Daisy are on a parked motorcycle together, her legs wrapped around his waist, lying almost flat against the gas can near the handlebars. His body is pushed up against hers, no space between them. It’s miles and miles away from innocent.

We’re friends. I shake my head. “Friends don’t do shit like that.” I point at the Ducati that they were just on together.

It’s not over though. I’ve always been a machine gun, another bullet ready after I press the trigger. Most of the time, I’m just waiting for it to ricochet. And finally hit me.

So by the time the doctor said you’re pregnant to both of us, I resigned to the fact that this was some real cosmic injustice.

Ryke has been sober for nine years. Nine goddamn years.

Every moment of my life has been a mountain that I struggle to climb.

“We’re going to have our happy ending. It’s just going to take us a little while to get there.”

We aren’t connected by our addictions.

But by our childhood. Souls fused together from the very, very start.

And it’s in this single moment, that I know for certain, they’re together.

“You mean your eighteen-year-old little sister and my twenty-five-year-old older brother?”

He’s a not-so-closeted Sterek shipper from Teen Wolf.

I want to believe that this road trip will end well, but a big heap of unresolved tension still pulls between Lo and Ryke.

Ryke Meadows and Daisy Calloway Caught Kissing!

I don’t need him to be a twenty-four-seven sober coach. I need him to be my brother.

I had no mom in public because I was a Meadows and she was Sara Hale. I had no fucking dad to show for.”

“I have been so fucking attracted to that girl. And I never planned on doing a fucking thing about it. I never was going to try. And I tried…I tried so fucking hard not thinking about her like that.” The honesty pours out of him. “It was wrong. I knew it was fucking wrong. I suppressed everything as much as I could.”

And then he screams, “I FUCKING LOVE HER!”

“I fell in fucking love with her,” he finally explains. “It hurt to be away from Daisy. It hurt to watch her with other guys. Everything fucking hurt, and I didn’t want to live with that pain anymore. I fucking couldn’t.”

No matter how weird it seems, this is how it’ll be. I’m not going to separate two people that love each other. I wouldn’t intentionally do that.

I already sense a change in my relationship with Daisy since she’s become my brother’s girlfriend. She used to be like a little sister to me, but my obligation to her now feels larger when Ryke isn’t here. Like I have to be a force that keeps her safe when he’s gone. He’d do the same for Lily, and it’s a role that I’ve easily accepted.

“Samantha Calloway isn’t a bright ray of sunshine.”

#Raisy

#TeamCoballoway

I wouldn’t want that kind of guy dating my daughter. Not that I’ll ever have one.

Oh

“When you’re a father⁠—” “That’s just it, I won’t ever be a father,” Lo interjects, gripping the table as he leans closer to Jonathan. My heart catapults to my throat. I’m paralyzed from head to toe.

“I will never subject a child to this fucking torture. I’d rather be burned alive than live knowing I put someone through this kind of hell.” It’s like a fist has torn out my heart,

I feel like I’ve broken the only girl I’ve ever loved.

Our love is rare. It’s one I can’t abandon, even if I tried. When she screams, an identical one rips through me.

When she cries, my world rains with grief. When she loves, I truly, truly fly.

“I’m eight weeks pregnant.” I go cold, like a car impacts me on the right side. Glass shattering. The car swerving. Spinning. The airbag popping into my chest, knocking the wind right out of me. The shock and fear pummels me into a state without thoughts.

The perseverance to do anything, to be anything. To thrive. Someday, that word will belong to us too. After years of coming up short, it’s all I’ve ever wanted.

“I just don’t want our kid to be damaged like us.”

Isnt this a series

he whispers, “You and me.” I smile against his lips. “Lily and Lo.”

That’s how they began to fall in love.

“Life moves too quickly,” he says. “I don’t want to speed through a single moment. Not anymore.”