Chapter 23 #2
Silas is on the phone across the room, rattling off names and addresses to people I’m pretty sure don’t exist outside his shady little black book.
Micah’s fingers fly over the keyboard, screens lighting up. “Gimme ten minutes.”
I pace, running my hand through my hair, glancing at Jasper. “We’re not waiting around if he finds a name, right? You want to split up and check the neighborhood?”
Jasper’s jaw flexes, murder in his eyes. “Nobody leaves this house until we know who’s out there. I’m not risking her.”
I bristle, but he’s right. I bite back whatever I was about to say and drop onto the edge of the couch, foot bouncing a mile a minute.
Micah’s screen blinks, code flying. “Numbers’ pinging off burner towers, but I’m good. I’ll get an IP, maybe a location if they’re dumb.”
Jasper glances at me, voice lower now. “How’s Sawyer?”
I swallow hard. “She’s scared, man. But she’s tougher than she looks.” I force a smile, but it feels like glass in my throat. “I’ll go check on her after. You know she’ll just come looking for us if we’re gone too long.”
Silas hangs up, nods at both of us. “We’ll find whoever’s doing this. You keep her close. Let us handle the rest.”
Micah’s eyes dart up from the screen, a little wild, a little amused. “And hey, if you two break anything expensive while playing hero, you’re fixing it. Or you’re both buying me a new rig.”
I flip him off, but it breaks the tension just enough to breathe again. Still, the rage is there, burning in my gut, promising hell if anyone even thinks about touching Sawyer.
Jasper’s already moving toward the hall. “Let’s go. I want eyes on her. Now.”
I’m right behind him, ready for whatever comes next. Whoever is out there, they picked the wrong people to fuck with.
SAWYER
I close the bathroom door behind me, the quiet barely muffling the beating in my chest. My hands won’t stop shaking. All those pictures—so many moments I thought were safe, private, just ours now nothing but ammunition for whoever’s watching.
Macee sits on the edge of the bathtub, knees pulled up, concern written all over her face. She doesn’t hug me. She waits; she’s the kind of friend who knows when you need space to breathe.
I sit beside her, phone still clutched like a lifeline, blinking hard. “Someone’s been following me, Mace, for weeks. I—I thought I was just being paranoid. I kept seeing shadows, reflections. I even saw someone at the haunted house. In a mask.”
Macee’s jaw sets, eyes fierce. “You should’ve told me.”
A bitter laugh escapes before I can stop it. “I thought I was losing my mind. And then I got these.” I show her the photos, my thumb trembling as I scroll. Each one lands heavier than the last.
She looks through them, her lips pressed tight. By the end, her hands are shaking too.
“Jasper, Riot, and Silas are losing it out there,” I whisper, voice barely more than a breath. “Micah’s trying to trace the number. But what if it’s someone I know? Someone close?”
Macee looks at me worried. “Do you think it could be Blake? I never paid attention to what he did for work.”
I shake my head. “He was a real estate agent for his family’s company. He’s not smart enough for this. There’s no way.” I think. “Maybe it’s a crazy, obsessed fan? Or maybe it’s Lexie retaliating after I publicly humiliated her? I’m going crazy trying to think of anybody it could be.”
Macee doesn’t answer at first. She takes my hand, squeezes hard, like she can will the panic out of me. “You’re not crazy, Sawyer. And you’re not alone. I’m not letting you out of my sight, okay? I don’t care if I have to sleep on the floor. We’re in this together.”
The words steady me a little. But the fear is still there, cold and gnawing. “I’m scared, Mace. I don’t want to lose them. Or you.”
She pulls me into a fierce hug, all nails and perfume and safety. “You’re not losing any of us. Never. And you? You’re stronger than you think, Sawyer Morrigan. You’ve survived so many things—you’ll survive this, too.”
There’s a knock at the door—Riot’s voice, low and careful. “Hey, Hellcat? We need you. Something’s happening.”
Macee stands first, hand never leaving mine. “We’ve got you,” she whispers, then opens the door. Riot stands in the hall, worry lines cutting deep into his usually playful face.
“Micah found something,” he says, voice barely above a growl. “Come on, babe. You’re safe—we’re all here.”
I step out, heart still pounding, but this time, I let them all close around me. I’m not alone. Not anymore.
The living room is tense, the air vibrating with anxiety and caffeine. Micah’s at the center, eyes glued to his laptop. Everyone’s on edge—Jasper a live wire, Riot unable to sit still, Ash and Jace crowding in.
Micah finally glances up, his voice quick and no-nonsense. “Okay, I traced the number to a burner—no real name attached, but whoever this is? They’re not amateurs.”
Jasper scowls. “So what, a stalker? A crazy fan?”
Micah shrugs. “Maybe. But this guy’s good. Covered his tracks—moved the phone, used cash, even ditched cameras twice. Smart. Calculated. Might have military or PI experience.”
Macee leans close to me. “Not real estate, Blake, then. I feel slightly better now.”
I nod in agreement. I’m glad that eased her mind a bit.
Riot paces, running both hands through his hair. “Fuck, man. Who would go this far for Sawyer?”
Ash shakes his head. “We’ve pissed off a lot of people, but this? It’s personal. Look at these shots—dude had to be inside the hotel, outside our house. He knew where to look.”
Micah clicks through images, pulling up blurry street cam footage and license plates that are too obscure to read. “Best guess? He has been planning this for weeks, possibly longer. Probably someone close—knows your habits. But nothing concrete yet.”
Jasper’s voice is sharp, defensive. “Who the hell is it then? Any names?”
Micah shakes his head. “Not yet. I’ll keep digging. But whoever it is—they’re not just obsessed, they’re patient. That’s the dangerous kind.”
Macee squeezes my hand. Riot gives me a look—protective, but helpless. For a moment, the only thing louder than the silence is the pounding of my heart.
Jace breaks the tension with a snarl. “We’ll find them. It doesn’t matter how smart they are.”
Jasper’s eyes are wild and haunted, but he covers them with steel. “Nobody touches you, Trouble. We’ll keep you safe.”
But outside the window, somewhere in the dark, he’s still watching.
And I sit and think—all this, on top of us having to head back to the bus so we can travel to the next stop on the tour—my head’s spinning before the morning even really begins.
The house is a whirlwind of open suitcases, lost chargers, and Jasper barking orders to the rest of the guys like that’ll keep anything from slipping through the cracks.
Riot’s tossing drumsticks into his backpack, Ash is cursing at a zipper, and Silas is on his phone making sure the merch shipment made it to the next city. Everyone’s on edge, but trying to play it cool, like if they keep moving, maybe the shadows will stop creeping in.
We’re barely out the door when the manager’s phone rings—loud and sharp, slicing right through the tension. Silas steps out onto the porch, voice dropping low, while the rest of us pause mid-chaos, all that nervous energy suddenly twisting tighter.
He comes back a minute later, face pale, and says, “Change of plans. I just got off the phone with the venue director. Next venue in Salt Lake City? It burnt to the ground last night. The fire marshal says it was arson. The place is completely gone.”
The room goes still. For a second, nobody knows what to say.
Jace whistles under his breath. “That’s wild. Out of nowhere.”
Ash’s eyes flick to the window. “Convenient timing, huh?”
Riot leans into Jasper’s space, half-joking, but his voice is tight. “You think it’s got anything to do with the stalker? Maybe they wanted to keep us here.”
Jasper’s mouth is a hard line, thinking. But Silas shakes his head. “Doubt it. Venues burn down all the time—because of bad wiring, angry ex-employees. Not everything is about us.”
Micah doesn’t even look up from his laptop. “Insurance scam. I’ll put money on it.”
The manager sighs. “Well, we’re stuck for at least a week while they work out a replacement. Maybe that’s safer, with everything going on.”
Jasper finally looks at me, softer this time. “We stay put. The bus isn’t going anywhere.”
Riot throws an arm around my shoulders. “More time for you to kick our asses at Mario Kart. Or, you know, hang out in a place where the walls don’t move.”
Ash grins. “Only if there’s coffee.”
But underneath the jokes, everyone’s a little uneasy. The tension melts back into the hum of now unpacking and moving, but I can’t shake the feeling. Coincidence or not, it feels like the universe just gave us one more reason to look over our shoulders.
***
The house feels too loud, every laugh too sharp, every footstep echoing with a tension nobody wants to name.
I slip away from the chaos, tugging on my boots, the hem of Jasper’s T-shirt brushing bare skin where my shorts should be.
I hadn’t bothered with more when I wandered out of his room—too tired, too wrung out to care—and the soft cotton still smells like him.
I slip out the side door, hoping the cool air will clear my head, even for just a minute.
The sunlight stings my eyes as I step out onto the porch. I breathe in deep, the world finally quiet for the first time all day. My shoulders drop, some of the tightness in my chest finally loosening.
But I’m barely two steps into the yard before I hear the door creak behind me.
“Thought I’d find you out here.” Jasper’s voice is low, rougher than usual.
I don’t turn. “Just needed some air.”
He steps up beside me, hands shoved in his pockets, eyes scanning the tree line, the street, everywhere but me. “You shouldn’t be alone. Not right now.”
I try to laugh, but it comes out thin. “You planning on shadowing me all week?”
He finally looks at me, and there’s nothing playful in his expression.
Just raw worry, something more profound and darker.
“If something happened to you, Sawyer… If I let you out of my sight and something went wrong, I’d never forgive myself.
I’d burn this whole fucking place to the ground looking for you. ”
For a second, I see the rage in him. Not just at whoever’s out there, but fear—real, bone-deep fear.
I reach out, fingers brushing his. “Jas… I just needed five minutes.”
He closes his eyes, jaw tight. “I can’t leave you, Sawyer.
I wasn’t able to do anything when I watched my dad’s murder.
I’m not the little boy anymore, and I wouldn’t be able to handle it if something happened to you.
Especially, if I was able to prevent it in the first place.
So take you’re five minutes, but I’m staying with you. ”
We stand together in silence, hands tangled, the afternoon stretching long and quiet around us. Jasper’s thumb rubs small circles over my knuckles, like he can smooth away the tremor in my bones.
I stare out at the street, fighting the urge to apologize for being snippy, for needing air, for everything that’s spiraled out of my control.
He breaks the silence first. “I know you’re strong. Stronger than me, some days, but I can’t shake this feeling that if I look away, even for a minute… I’ll lose you. And I can’t—” His jaw flexes, emotion catching in his throat.
I blink, surprised by the crack in his armor. “Jas… I’m right here.”
He looks away, as if he can’t bear the weight of it. “You don’t get it. You’re the first thing in my life I ever really wanted to keep. Not just have—keep. And all this shit happening—these photos, the fire, I keep thinking it’s my fault. That I brought the chaos to your door.”
I step in closer, pressing my forehead to his chest, letting his heartbeat steady me. “It’s not your fault. You didn’t do this to me, Jasper. If anything, you’re the reason I feel safe at all. Even now.”
He lets out a shuddering breath, one hand coming up to cradle the back of my head, fingers threading through my hair. “You don’t know what you do to me, Sawyer. I’d burn the world down to keep you safe. Even from myself, if I have to.”
He kisses me—soft, desperate, like a promise. And for a moment, all the fear and noise fade. It’s just us, hearts bruised but still beating, standing together against whatever darkness is coming.
JASPER
She’s so close I can’t think straight. Her hands clutch my shirt, her lips are on mine, and everything else falls away—the fear, the shadows, the world pressing in. All I feel is her, right here, with me.
I kiss her harder, letting the ache pour out—like I could fuse us if I just tried hard enough. Her back hits the side of the house, and I don’t let up. I can’t. I need her in a way that scares me.
My hands slide down, gripping her thighs, lifting her just enough so she wraps around me. I fumble with my belt, her breath hot against my neck, her nails digging into my shoulders. She’s already unbuttoning my jeans, no hesitation, no fear. Just need.
“I can’t wait, baby,” I growl, voice shaking. “I need you—right now.”
She whimpers, and it’s all the invitation I need. I slide into her, rough and deep, and the world goes white. She’s so tight, so perfect, like she’s molded just for me. I thrust into her, quickly, making her feel every inch, feel every word I’m about to say.
I bury my face in her neck, voice raw as I move inside her. “You don’t know what you do to me. I try to act tough, but you break me open every fucking time.”
She clings to me, legs trembling around my hips. “Jasper—”
I thrust deeper, harder, each stroke timed with my words. “I don’t care how long it’s been. I don’t care if it’s too soon. I know what this is. I know what I feel.”
I press my forehead to hers, never slowing, wanting her to feel every ounce of me—body and soul. “I’m already in love with you. And it scares the shit out of me because I’ve never had something this real. Never been this afraid of losing something… someone.”
She gasps my name, her hands tangled in my hair, and I lose it a little more—my hips snapping, rough, hungry, worshipful. “I’d fight the world for you, Sawyer. I’d fight myself. I love you. God, I love you.”
She breaks apart for me, right there, her moans muffled against my lips, her body squeezing me tight. I follow, thrusting through the aftershocks, pouring everything I am into her, every promise, every truth.
We collapse against the house, still tangled, breathless, shaking. I kiss her softly, again and again, holding her as close as I can.
“I meant every word,” I whisper against her lips. “You’re mine, Sawyer. Always.”
And this time, she believes me—because I made her feel it.