Chapter 37
SAWYER
The rest of the tour is a fever dream full of flashing neon lights, bruised knuckles, lipstick stains on set lists, and Riot’s hoodie tangled with Jasper’s jacket at the foot of hotel beds.
They moved the guys’ bands to play on the same day, as they had to make some adjustments while we were away.
Riot’s band finishes first on the days they play, so he usually finds me backstage, pins me to a dark corner, and kisses me stupid until Jasper catches us and mutters, “Save some for the headliner, asshole.” I shoot their sets from the pit.
Jasper prowling the stage, voice like gravel and silk, eyes finding me every time I look up.
When the lights go down, Riot waits for me in the wings, wrapping his arms around my waist, whispering filth in my ear, just loud enough for Jasper to hear.
Darklight’s been nothing but good to me—even after everything I went through.
They kept my spot open and told me they love every shot I’ve taken, from professional pictures to candid shots on the bus.
I’m not just another girl with a camera—I’m their girl.
Their eyes on tour. And they made sure I knew it.
Some nights, all three of us end up tangled on Jasper’s bus—me sandwiched between them, their hands everywhere, the rest of the world forgotten.
One night, Riot had dragged me onstage to “check the acoustics,” bent me over the drum kit…
and tour security caught us mid-thrust with a flashlight.
The guard said, “Not on the kit.” A cymbal did this slow, shameful wobble.
I’d whispered, “Told you we should’ve moved the cymbals first.” Riot, panting, muttered, “Noted. New rule—relocate crash before smashing.” We got marched off like delinquent teens while the guard grumbled, “It’s always the drummers. ”
Ash and Jace compete to see who can make Macee laugh harder.
She’s warming up to those two, but keeps track of where Silas usually is.
Sometimes, on rare off-days, we all pile into a greasy diner and pretend we’re normal—except my thighs are covered in Riot’s handwriting, and Jasper’s hand never leaves my knee.
There are nights when Jasper can’t sleep and I find him scribbling lyrics in a notebook, Riot’s head in my lap, both of them humming. And when the nightmares come, I wake in some city I don’t remember, pressed between two bodies I trust, their arms around me, keeping me whole.
We fight, we fuck, we make up—sometimes all in the same night.
The fans watch, hungry for gossip, but what we have isn’t for them.
Jasper’s band finishes their last set after Riot’s, and he pulls me into his arms before I can even put my camera down.
Riot drags us both onto the bus and we celebrate the last show together, all of us—beer, pizza, music too loud, all of us singing off-key.
I take pictures, promising myself I’ll remember every second.
And when it’s all over, when the buses park for the last time, I find myself in the same place I started—camera in hand, scars and ink on my skin, but this time with a future I chose and am in control of.
For the first time, there’s nowhere to be, no show to shoot, nothing chasing us but morning.
Jasper and Riot find me by the fence, both looking too good for men who haven’t slept in three days.
Riot grins, slings an arm around my shoulders. Jasper stands in front of me, arms crossed, his stare all heat and intent. “So,” Riot says, “what’s next, Hellcat? Where are we going?” Jasper joins in, “Yeah, are you coming home with me willingly or will I be dragging you the whole way?”
I laugh, rolling my eyes. “You’re both insane. I’m going home. To my place. I have laundry, bills, and plants I probably killed.”
They exchange a look—one of those silent, male conversations where you know you’re about to lose.
Jasper’s voice is flat, certain. “No, you’re not.”
Riot shakes his head. “Absolutely not.”
I blink. “Excuse me?”
Jasper steps closer, expression dark and stubborn. “You’re not leaving me, Sawyer. Move in with me.”
I gape at him. “It’s only been a few months. You don’t even like sharing closet space.”
“You’re not going back to that tiny apartment alone. Not after everything. I want you with me. Every night. Every morning. I’m not asking.”
Riot leans in, lips at my ear, his voice a sinful promise. “Or you could move in with me. I’ll even give you the big bedroom.”
Jasper scowls. “She’s not going with you, Riot.”
“Maybe she wants to go with me. Have you ever thought about that?” Riot smirks, clearly enjoying play-fighting over this again way too much.
I shake my head, biting back a smile. “Oh my God, you two—don’t even start that shit again.”
Jasper grabs my hand, lacing our fingers tight. “I don’t care if it’s been weeks or years. You’re not walking out of my life, Sawyer.”
I look up at them, letting all the chaos and exhaustion fall away.
It’s just us—me and the two men who refused to let me break.
I have never trusted two people more in my life.
They’ve proven to me in just the past few months that I am wanted.
I am deserving of love. And I already want to be with them every second anyway.
I breathe out and say, “Fine. But I’m picking the place. And I want a cat.”
RIOT
I haul the last box through Jasper’s front door. Still feels weird being here, but for Sawyer? I’ll keep hauling shit all damn day.
I lug it up the stairs, grumbling to myself, and kick open the door to Jasper’s room, where most of Sawyer’s things are already scattered—her perfume on his dresser, a pile of black clothes on the armchair.
I set the box on the edge of the bed and open it. Inside—oh hell yes—Sawyer’s toy collection. Vibrators, dildos, a little flogger, and some cuffs. I crack up, holding up a slim purple dildo between two fingers. Compared to what she gets now? This thing’s a joke.
Sawyer pokes her head in, hair a mess, cheeks flushed from unpacking. “What’s so funny?”
I dangle the dildo at her, grinning. “Seriously, Hellcat? This little thing?” I glance down at it, then back at her, smirking. “You want to keep it for nostalgia, or should we just toss it out since you’ve been properly upgraded?”
She rolls her eyes, biting back a smile. “Oh my God, Riot, put that down.”
I wave it at her, voice low, teasing. “Hey, I’m just saying—I’ve seen you take more than this with a smile on your face. You need a replacement, you call me.”
She snatches it out of my hand, laughing. “Get out of my stuff, you menace.”
Sawyer steps in, rolling her eyes, but she’s smiling—that soft, ‘I’m home’ kind of smile that makes my chest ache.
For a second, I bask in the way she looks at me, but then it creeps back in.
That this is Jasper’s house, Jasper’s bed, and eventually I’m going to be the one packing up my little bag, leaving them alone together.
And what if that’s what she wants? What if she decides I’m just the messy middle, a good distraction until she picks the guy with the mansion and the wounds that match her own?
She must see something shift in my face, because her smile fades. She crosses the room, hands slipping to my waist, searching my eyes. “Hey. What’s going on in that brain of yours?”
I swallow, trying to play it cool, but it comes out rougher than I mean it to. “Just… thinking I’m gonna miss you. And I know you say you want both of us, but what if you wake up and realize you’re happier with just him? What if you don’t need me anymore?”
God, it sounds so fucking needy when I say it out loud. I almost want to take it back, but she doesn’t let me. She presses in closer, arms around my waist, grounding me.
“Look at me.” She waits until I do—until I can’t hide, not from her. “You are not just the extra, Riot. You’re it for me, too. I need you. I want you. I don’t want to do this without you.”
I hug her so tight I’m afraid I’ll crush her, but she laughs, kisses me, and tells me I’m hers.
“I mean it,” she whispers, her forehead pressed to mine. “You’re not losing me.”
“But I won’t be here all the time, Hellcat. I won’t be here with you. You’ll be in this house with just him. You’ll… you’ll learn to be without me while I’m gone.”
She goes quiet, her smile fading as she studies me. There’s something raw in my chest, something wild and scared that I can’t hide.
“You’ll get used to it,” I mutter, almost bitterly. “You’ll figure out how to sleep without me, eat breakfast with just him, wake up, and not have me to drag you back to bed. And I’ll be back home, trying not to fucking lose my mind.”
Her hand finds mine, squeezing. I want to believe it means something. I want to believe I matter enough that she won’t let go—even if I’m not here to see it. Before I can say anything else, there’s a pointed cough from the doorway.
I look up to see Jasper there, arms folded, eyebrow cocked, mouth twitching with that smug half-smile. “You two planning on cuddling all night, or should I come back with a camera?”
I roll my eyes and shrug. “Don’t act like you wouldn’t watch.”
Jasper snorts. “I mean, yeah, but only because I know you’d narrate the whole thing with some bullshit story about how you’re the favorite.
” He leans against the doorframe, and for a second, there’s something softer in his eyes.
“Seriously, though… place is too damn quiet without your running commentary and vulgar jokes, Riot.”
Sawyer snorts, and I flip him off, unable to hide my smile.
Jasper rolls his eyes, steps into the room, and lets the moment hang for a beat—like he’s thinking about how to say something real without making it too fucking heavy.
“You know you’re an idiot, right?” He glances at Sawyer, then back at me, voice dropping low and honest. “Why don’t you just move in, Riot? For real. Bring your shit—bring yourself. We’re better when you’re here. All of us.”
I stare at him, words stuck somewhere in my throat. Jasper shrugs, like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “So?”