Chapter 14
RIOT
Me and the band are just fucking around—Dex, Shade, and Milo—throwing a half-deflated football around the lot, cracking jokes, talking shit about who’s going to bomb their set tonight.
Dex is flexing, Milo’s yelling about losing his wallet (again), and I’m half-watching, half-bored until I catch a flash of something way more interesting out of the corner of my eye.
Sawyer. Tight little shorts, dark gray off-the-shoulder ‘Metallica’ shirt, hair wild, bruises on her neck I know aren’t from a mosh pit. She’s walking with Jasper and the others, laughing at something Ash said, and all I can think is—fuck, she’s hot when she’s happy.
I’m about to shout something at her when, out of nowhere, Ash’s ex—poison in a too-short skirt, voice like a chainsaw, cuts Sawyer off, her little pack of band groupies clustering around. She’s got that look in her eyes, the one that means drama’s coming.
I watch Jasper stiffen, hand already reaching for Sawyer, but he holds back, letting her stand her ground. I drift closer, slowly and casually.
“Didn’t know they let the help hang out at the main bus. Must be nice, getting backstage because you’re screwing the headliner.” Lexie spits.
One of her minions, tall with bubble-gum hair, snickers. “She’s just here for the free merch. Or is it the free dick?”
Sawyer doesn’t blink. “That’s rich coming from you, Lexie. Remind me—who’d you bang to get your name on the lineup? Or was it just your daddy’s money?”
Lexie sneers, moving closer. “At least I don’t have to beg for attention. You’re embarrassing yourself, honey.”
Sawyer smiles, deadly calm. “Yeah? Is that what you tell yourself when nobody is looking?”
Lexie’s mouth twists, but before she can snap back, a shadow looms—Jasper. He slides right in, his hand wrapping possessively around Sawyer’s waist. “You got something you want to say, Lexie? Say it now. Otherwise, fuck off.”
Bubble-gum hair girl pipes up, attempting to be brave. “Aww, look, she has a babysitter.”
Lexie’s minions snicker, but I’m done hanging back. I cross the lot and slide in on Sawyer’s other side, my arm grazing hers, just so Lexie gets the message.
“Is there a reason you’re running your mouth, Lexie?” I ask, tone casual tone, but my stare is all threat. “Or are you just jealous because nobody’s looking at you?”
Lexie drags her gaze across the three of us, assessing.
“Jealous?” She laughs, sharp and mean. “Please. I don’t need to beg for crumbs when I can make a feast out of yours.
” She leans in, lips curling. “How’d you like the backstage reel, sweetheart?
The clips? The entire internet did. You’re welcome. ”
Sawyer’s eyes narrow. “What did you just say?”
Lexie’s chin tips high, proud of the rot. “I posted them. All of it. Your little wall moment, your cozy bus claiming. Hashtags did numbers. Guess I still know how to pull a crowd.”
Jasper goes still—dangerously still. I feel Sawyer tense beside me, that storm-silent second before lightning hits.
Sawyer doesn’t say a word. She just cocks her head, lips curled in the little almost-smile that means danger’s coming—then slams her fist into Lexie’s face. The crack of knuckles on bone rings out, stunning the whole damn lot.
Lexie staggers back, hand flying to her cheek, shock morphing into rage. Her minions freeze, wide-eyed.
I can’t help it—I grin.
Fuck, that was hot.
Sawyer shakes out her fist, calm as anything. “You want attention, Lexie. You got it.”
Jasper is already moving, stepping in front of Sawyer, eyes black with pride and fury, daring Lexie or anyone else to even look at her wrong. I step in too, the three of us making one thing obvious— she’s not to be fucked with.
Lexie’s got tears in her eyes now, but she tries to save face, spitting blood. “Crazy bitch!”
Sawyer shrugs, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Better to be a crazy bitch than a desperate one.”
Ash lets out a low whistle from somewhere behind us. Everybody else scatters, not wanting any of this smoke.
Jasper leans in, laughing just for Sawyer. “Remind me never to piss you off, Rocky.”
She smiles up at him, and I can’t stop staring at her, adrenaline still buzzing under my skin. “Damn, Hellcat. If I ever need backup, I’m calling you.”
Sawyer shakes out her hand, adrenaline still sparking under her skin, and grins at the circle of stunned faces. “What? She asked for it.”
Ash throws an arm around her shoulder. “Damn right she did. Next time we hit the ring toss, I want you on my team. I’m sorry she tried to come after you. She’s just jealous because you’re on the bus with us.”
Jace laughs. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think Lexie might have finally learned to keep her mouth shut.”
And just like that, Sawyer’s not just the photographer. She’s the legend of the bus lot—and everyone, even the guys from the other bands, is giving her a whole new kind of respect.
SAWYER
The air outside is thick with heat, and the leftover noise of the afternoon shows. Ash leads the charge, already chanting something about “barbecue heaven”. Jace and Silas argue over which vendor has the best nachos. Jasper’s hand finds mine, making sure everyone knows exactly where I stand.
We weave through the crowd, past a cluster of fans in matching band tees, until the smell of smoky meat and melted cheese hits me like a punch. My stomach growls loud enough that Ash throws me a wicked grin.
“Starving, Trouble?” He teases, jabbing me with his elbow.
“Starving,” I admit, and I don’t miss the way Jasper’s eyes darken—like he’d rather be feeding me something else entirely.
Micah’s already halfway to the front of the food truck line, arguing with some roadie about hot sauce levels. Jace throws his arm around my shoulder, practically dragging me with him. “Still with us, Sawyer? You haven’t lived until you’ve tried festival BBQ nachos. Legendary.”
I try not to get lost in the chaos—the music in the distance, the press of bodies, the lingering touch of Jasper’s fingers as he slips his hand into mine, threading our fingers together like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
I’m not used to being at the center of a group like this, nor am I used to being claimed out loud. But as soon as Ash shouts our order and the guys bicker about toppings, it feels…good. Maybe I could get used to this.
Then I feel the ghost of eyes on me. I look around—not seeing anybody staring at me. It’s like what I felt when I found Jasper watching me, but this is different. Almost uncomfortable…
Just then, Jasper leans in, mouth brushing my ear, pulling me back to him. “Hope you’re hungry, Trouble. Because I’m not done with you after this.”
Ash is the first to snatch up a paper boat of nachos, loading it with so much jalapeno it’s basically a dare.
“If I die, I die,” he announces, mouth full, cheese dripping down his chin.
Jace snorts and grabs an extra handful, trying to outdo him.
Micah calmly claims a plate and a mountain of napkins, shaking his head at their nonsense.
“Silas, you’re on sauce duty,” Jace calls. “I’m not trusting Ash with the Sriracha again.”
Silas grunts, handing out sodas like a bored bartender. “Not my circus, not my nachos.”
We finally settle in the grass near the edge of the main stage, the faded sound of a pop-punk band drifting over the crowd.
Ash sprawls out and immediately starts rating passing hairstyles with Jace.
Micah, surprising me, has found a girl to flirt with.
Jasper sits close enough to keep his arm across my shoulders, chin brushing my hair whenever he laughs.
Ash points at the stage. “Ten bucks says the next guy tries to crowd surf and eats shit.”
Jace whistles. “Twenty if he brings the mic with him.”
“Thirty if he lands in the drum kit,” Jasper adds. “But Sawyer’s gotta catch it on camera.”
I grin, my cheeks flushed from sun and attention, not sure which burns hotter. For a second, I let myself melt into it—all the stupid, messy, incredible noise.
It feels almost normal. Easy.
But then Jasper’s hand finds my thigh, thumb stroking a circle above my knee. “What about you?” He asks, quiet but insistent. “Have you ever done this with your family? Fairs, festivals, whatever?”
I hesitate, the surrounding laughter fading out for a moment. “We used to when I was little. My dad and stepmom would take my sisters and me every year—back when things were still good. I remember riding the fair rides until we felt sick, eating too much cotton candy, watching the fireworks…”
Ash leans in, eyebrows up. “Damn. That sounds like a good time.”
I shrug, feeling suddenly exposed. “Yeah, well. Didn’t last. They were on and off for years until just a few years ago. They used to get along when they weren’t together, but this time it’s different…and I don’t want to be in the middle of it.”
Jasper’s thumb keeps moving, gentle but possessive. “Do you still talk to any of them?”
I nod my head. “My sister, Cassie, and I are really close, but she has a son, so she is super busy with him. I adore him. I’m working a lot, though, so I don’t get to see them much.
I still go visit my stepmom and stepsister when I can.
It isn’t as much as I’d like, but I still care.
I still consider them family because they were in my life from second grade until a few years after graduation.
” My voice cracks on the last part, but I cover it up with a sip of soda.
Jasper’s hand moves to squeeze mine, but it’s Ash who says what everyone else is thinking. “What about your real mom? Do you ever see her?”
The question hangs in the air, heavier than before. Everyone goes quiet, and even Micah stops to listen.
“She left when I was in second grade. Just…one day she was there, then she wasn’t.
I was really young, so I might remember wrong.
I saw her a few times after that, then she moved away with a new husband, who is great.
She would send me letters, and I still have a few of them, I think.
Anyway, she moved back, and I would go to her house some.
But now I’m busy all the time. Just don’t have the time to visit anybody.
Ash makes a sound that’s almost a curse. “You deserve better than that.”
Silas asks the other obvious question, and I know why he does. “And your dad?”
I take a breath, wishing I could make this answer simple. “He’s remarried. Has been for a while now. His new wife is… well, let’s just say we have different opinions.”
I let out a shaky laugh. “Honestly, it’s like my dad is a whole different person now.
It feels like he changed so much; sometimes, I wonder if the dad I remember was ever real.
He tries to call and check in, but it’s hard.
I can’t see him as the man I looked up to anymore.
” My voice falters, and for a second I feel naked in front of them, like they can see every bit of disappointment and grief I still haven’t let go of.
“It’s like I’m supposed to fit into his new life.
But I don’t. And as I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized that I…
Well, most parental figures give me PTSD and make me uncomfortable now. ”
Nobody says anything for a moment, and the noise of the surrounding crowd is just white noise. Then Jace nudges me, voice surprisingly gentle. “You got us, Sawyer. And we’re not going anywhere.”
Silas passes me a drink with a look of understanding. A lump forms in my throat, but I nod, letting the comfort settle in. Even if my family is broken and scattered, at least here, in this mess of a tour and chaos and loud music, I have something that almost feels like belonging.
JASPER
Nobody says much after Jace’s line, and I can tell it rattled all of us—Sawyer most of all. She sits a little quieter, shoulders tight, soda clutched in both hands, like its something to anchor her.
I watch her, just… watch her. Let the others fill the space with nervous jokes. Ash nudges my shoulder, muttering, “Bet Riot’s band screws up and blames the lights again. Five bucks says he breaks a drumstick showing off.”
I snort, but my attention is on her. She’s somewhere else in her head, chewing on the inside of her cheek, eyes unfocused. For once, I kept my mouth shut. Sometimes the only thing you can do is just be there.
I have some experience with broken families. I know the way it claws at you, how you think you’ll always be on the outside looking in. No wonder she clings to that feeling of being wanted—needed—like it’s oxygen. I get it.
I wish she’d let herself see what she’s got now.
The stage lights flicker, Riot’s band takes their places, and suddenly she’s alive again, just a flicker—eyes sharp, camera in hand, mouth soft with a secret smile.
I follow her gaze, see Riot’s eyes already on her, all that blonde hair wild under the stage lights. He grins—cocky, wolfish, and then just…hungry. He drums harder, plays louder, showing off for her. That crowd’s nothing; it’s all Sawyer.
Possessiveness twists heavy in my gut.
Yeah, she enjoys being watched. She deserves it.
But watching him watch her? I want to tear him apart.
Still…I’d give her anything if it meant she knows she’s wanted, chosen, not just tolerated, the way her family made her feel.
Perhaps I can let her play a little. For her. For that smile.
But if he ever actually puts his hands on her…
I’m not sure I’m as generous as I want to be.
Sawyer lifts her camera for a shot of Riot, but I can feel her noticing me, the way her gaze flickers back to where I’m sitting, like she’s waiting for a sign. Maybe she feels my eyes on her, or maybe she knows me by now—how I can’t ever seem to look away.
She looks over, finds me staring. Doesn’t look away. Just lifts her pierced brow, a half-smile tugging at her mouth—taunting, testing me. There’s a challenge in her eyes, like she wants to see if I’ll drag her away right now, if I’ll remind her who she belongs to.
Part of me wants to. But another part—one I’m still getting used to—knows she deserves this. The freedom. The feeling of being wanted by more than just me.
I can let her have that. Maybe just this once, I can share her attention. Let her experience what it’s like to be the center of someone’s world.
But I’m not sure if I could ever really share her touch.
That’s a line I’m not ready to cross.
She glances back at the stage, but I watch the flush in her cheeks—the way she bites her lip. She knows I’m watching her watch him. And she likes it.
Yeah, I’ll let her play. But at the end of the night, she’ll still be mine.