Chapter 24 #2
The door creaks, and I look up, expecting Macee or Ash. Instead, it’s Jasper. His eyes flick from my tear-stained face to Riot’s hand on my arm, and something in his expression softens, but also gets fiercer like he’d fight anyone, even his own shadow, just to keep me from hurting a second longer.
He doesn’t speak. Just crosses the floor, lowering himself down across from Riot so he’s level with me, knees bent, boots squeaking against the tile. He takes my free hand in both of his, rough fingers curling gently and safely around mine, anchoring me between them.
The three of us exist for a moment. The bathroom is full of steam, the scent of Jasper’s soap, the distant hush of voices down the hall, and the warmth of their hands on mine.
Riot finally breaks the quiet, his voice gentle but sure. “She told me about everything, Jasper. Her family. Blake. All of it.”
Jasper’s thumb strokes over my knuckles. His voice is a rasp, deeper than I’m used to. “You don’t have to say a word if you don’t want to. Not to us. But if you do, we’re here. Both of us.”
Tears sting my eyes again, but I don’t look away. Not this time. “I’m just so tired of being scared. Tired of feeling like I’m the mess everyone else has to clean up.”
Jasper shakes his head, his grip tightening just a little, just enough to ground me. “You’re not a mess, Sawyer. Not to me. I don’t care about the past. All I care about is right now. You have me. Riot. Hell, the whole band, if you want them.”
I let out a shaky laugh. It feels like a release, like something in my chest finally unclenching. “You guys… I don’t even know what to say.”
Riot squeezes my fingers, leaning in. “You don’t have to say anything. Just let us be here. Let us carry some of it.”
Jasper’s eyes find mine, steady and stubborn. “You’re not alone, baby. Not anymore. We’re not going anywhere.”
The silence that follows isn’t empty. It’s full of warmth, of belonging, of something I’m only just starting to believe is real. Surrounded by them, held steady by both their hands, I feel the weight on my chest lighten—just a little, just enough.
For the first time in a long time, I let myself lean back, close my eyes, and trust that maybe—just maybe—I don’t have to do any of this alone.
I’m wrung out, heavy with everything I just let spill. The bathwater’s gone lukewarm, my fingers pruned, but I’m still not ready to face the world outside this door. All I want is to curl up somewhere dark and soft, pretend for a little while that none of the mess outside can touch me.
I stand up, water trailing down my legs, and wrap myself in one of Jasper’s oversized towels.
Riot turns his back to give me privacy, but Jasper just keeps hold of my hand, steadying me as I step out.
They wait, silent sentinels, while I tug on one of Jasper’s shirts and a pair of shorts I keep in his drawer.
“It’s not even late, but I just want to lie down for a while.”
Jasper brushes damp hair off my cheek. “Then you do that. We’ll stay.”
Riot grins, the spark back in his eyes. “Not like we’re going anywhere. Someone’s gotta make sure you don’t run off and join the circus.”
I manage a soft laugh, exhaustion tugging at every limb. We make our way to Jasper’s room, the three of us moving like a single tangled unit. Jasper pulls back the covers, and I crawl in, burying my face in his pillow. He slides in on one side, Riot on the other—no questions, no hesitation.
They don’t just lie beside me—they curl around me, with one of Jasper’s arms hooked around my waist, Riot’s hand tracing lazy patterns up and down my back. Their warmth seeps into my bones, chasing away the last shivers of cold.
For a while, we’re all silent. Jasper’s breath is steady at my ear, Riot’s heartbeat a slow, solid drum under my palm.
Riot breaks the silence, voice soft. “You want us to talk about anything specific? Or just...talk?”
I close my eyes, letting their voices fill up all the empty places in my head.
Jasper squeezes my hip, his lips at my temple. “You don’t have to be okay, Sawyer. You can be tired, sad, mad at the whole world.”
Riot hums. “Or we can talk about literally anything else. I’ve got stories from the tour that’ll make you laugh, or at least roll your eyes.”
I let out a shaky breath, safe between them. “Just… talk to me. Tell me anything. I don’t want to feel alone.”
So they do. They tell me about the time Ash got banned from a bowling alley in Tulsa, about Jace’s disaster of a haircut, about Silas nearly getting them all arrested in Memphis because he thought he could outrun a cop car on foot.
Every story, every bit of laughter, layers over the fear in my chest, replacing it with something warm and almost normal.
I drift on the sound of their voices—soft laughter, half-remembered stories, the rumble of Jasper’s chest and Riot’s gentle teasing. Every minute, the weight pressing on me grows lighter, their warmth melting into my skin until my eyes just… close.
I barely register Jasper’s hand smoothing my hair, or the way Riot’s fingers trace lazy lines up my arm. The world fades out, my breathing slows, and for the first time in ages, I let myself fall. Safe, held, wanted.
JASPER
Sawyer’s breathing shifts—slow and deep, the kind you only get when you finally let go. I feel her body go limp against me, her head tucked under my chin. Riot meets my gaze over her shoulder, eyes soft but lined with worry.
“She’s out,” Riot whispers, voice barely more than a breath.
I nod, brushing a thumb over the back of her hand. “She needed it.”
For a while, we listen to her sleep, the house unusually quiet, the chaos pressed to the edges of the night. I can feel the worry gnawing at both of us, even now.
Riot’s voice is low, serious. “You think whoever’s after her is gonna back off? Even with all of us here?”
I shake my head. “No. Whoever it is—they’re careful. Smart. If they had wanted to scare her, they had already done so. If they want something worse…” I can’t finish the sentence, jaw tight.
Riot sighs, rubbing his eyes. “We gotta be enough. For her. You and me, all of us. I’ll sleep on the fucking floor if I have to.”
“You’re not sleeping on the floor,” I whisper, a slight smirk flickering and fading. “But yeah. She’ll never be alone again.”
We both fall quiet, eyes on the girl between us—her, finally at peace, just for a little while.
Riot leans in, voice almost a promise. “We got her, Reign. No matter what.”
I nod, pressing a kiss to Sawyer’s hair, the vow settling into my bones. “No matter what.”
And as the darkness closes in around us, I swear I’ll burn the world down before I let anyone hurt her again.
I’m just drifting, the quiet settling heavy and warm around us, when a soft knock taps against the door. Sawyer stirs, but doesn’t wake—her breathing stays deep and even.
The door opens a crack, and Silas steps in, careful not to turn on the light. He surveys the scene—me wrapped around Sawyer, Riot pressed close on her other side—and a slow, crooked grin spreads across his face.
“Well, well, look at this,” he whispers, eyebrows raised. “Never thought I’d see the day you let someone else in your bed, little brother. Especially with Riot’s ugly mug on your pillows.”
Riot just flips him off, mouthing, “You wish you looked this good, old man.”
Silas chuckles, the sound a rare bit of ease in the heavy room. “Don’t mind me. I just wanted to give you an update before I crash. No news yet. Micah’s still digging, but whoever’s messing with us—they’re damn good. Or just lucky. I’ll keep checking in with the security team.”
His eyes linger on Sawyer, softening a little. “You guys good in here?”
I nod, brushing a thumb over Sawyer’s shoulder. “We got her.”
Silas gives a slight, approving nod. “Good. Keep it that way.” Then, to Riot, “Try not to drool on my brother’s sheets. It’s hard enough getting him to do laundry.”
He slips back out; the door clicking softly behind him, leaving the quiet and the warmth and the steady breathing of the girl we’re both fighting for.
I settle back in, arms tightening around Sawyer, the tension a little lighter with Silas’s check-in. For now, we hold her safe. For now, it’s enough.
SAWYER
I wake up tangled in warmth, spooned between two sleeping men—Jasper’s chest solid against my back, Riot’s arm draped heavy and sure across my waist. For a minute, I just lay there, eyes half-open, listening to the quiet rise and fall of their breathing.
The world feels still. Safe. Their bodies are heat and comfort, and I let myself savor it, not moving, not wanting to break the spell.
But it never lasts. My mind wakes up before the rest of me does—spinning with what-ifs, worst-case scenarios, a dozen possibilities popping like static in my brain. What if the stalker gets closer? What if this safety is an illusion? What if I mess everything up?
My chest tightens before I even realize it. My breathing quickens, fingers digging into Riot’s forearm where it’s wrapped around me, as if I can anchor myself to him.
He stirs immediately, sleep-rough voice gentle at my ear. “Hey. Hey, it’s okay. I got you, Hellcat.”
He pulls me in tighter, his hold steady as iron but so soft. “You’re safe. Right here with us.”
I try to nod, but my breath is coming too fast. Riot shifts, bringing us forehead to forehead, his eyes half-open but all-in. He takes my hand and settles it over his chest, his heartbeat slow and strong.
“Breathe with me,” he whispers, his palm rubbing slow circles over my stomach. “In…and out. Just like that. I’m not going anywhere.”
I close my eyes and follow him—matching my breath to his, letting him count each inhale and exhale. Slowly, the panic ebbs, my heartbeat syncing with his until all that’s left is the warmth of his skin, his fingers tracing lazy lines up and down my side.
“You’re okay, Sawyer,” he whispers, his lips brushing my forehead. “We’ve got you.”
“Distract me,” I whisper, voice shaky but hopeful, curling myself into Riot’s side.