Chapter 30
SAWYER
For the first time in what feels like forever, my dreams aren’t full of teeth and shadows. Just warmth. Steady arms around my waist. The slow rhythm of someone breathing against the back of my neck like I’m something worth holding on to.
The room is quiet. Morning light bleeds in under the blackout curtains, painting faint gold lines across the sheets.
I’m tangled between them. Riot’s chest pressed to my back, his leg draped over mine, one hand sprawled protectively across my stomach.
Jasper’s in front of me, so close our noses almost touch, his fingers laced with mine like a promise.
I almost don’t want to move. Afraid that if I do, I’ll ruin it.
But this isn’t a dream. This is real.
And it’s terrifying in a way I’m not used to—because somewhere deep down, I’m starting to believe I deserve this. The safety. The stillness. The kind of love that doesn’t ask me to shrink.
I let myself breathe them in. Riot’s cologne. Jasper’s warmth. The weight of their bodies like a shield around me. A fortress made of devotion and choice.
Something in me softens.
The ache is still there, but it’s quieter now. No longer screaming that I’m broken, too much, too ruined to be loved. The shame has started to loosen its grip, making space for something else. Something like healing.
My body tenses as last night flickers back. My confession… All the raw, bleeding pieces of me laid bare in the dark. I was sure they’d reject me. I was sure they’d see the worst of me and decide I wasn’t worth it.
But they didn’t.
They stayed.
They held me.
They saw me, and they chose me.
Not in spite of my damage—but because of the way I survived it.
A lump forms in my throat, but I breathe through it.
I squeeze Jasper’s hand, just to anchor myself in this moment. He squeezes back, still half-asleep, thumb brushing mine. Riot groans into my hair and mutters something about not letting me leave the bed until at least noon.
I almost laugh. And cry. Maybe both.
This is what it feels like to survive. To be seen. To be wanted without having to earn it through perfection or performance. To be held like I’m already enough.
I blink up at the ceiling, heart racing. I’m not whole yet, but I’m starting to believe I could be.
Jasper’s eyes open—stormy, still half-asleep. He watches me for a long moment, then cups my cheek. “You okay?”
I nod. “Yeah. I think… I think I am.”
Riot grumbles, pressing a kiss to the back of my neck. “Good. ‘Cause we’re not done proving it to you.”
Riot’s words hum under my skin as I slip out of bed and throw on one of his shirts.
I watch him stretch, tattoos shifting as he cracks his neck, then leans over to steal a sleepy kiss from my lips.
Jasper comes up next to me placing his hand on my waist, thumb drawing lazy circles, grounding me.
I feel like I could stand here between them forever and never fall.
But there’s a rumble of voices downstairs—a reminder that the world is still spinning, even if mine is tilted on its axis.
Riot grabs a shirt, then hands me a clean pair of shorts to go with the shirt of his I’m wearing. “You can keep that. It looks way better on you anyway.” He gives me a quick kiss again.
I grin, tucking my hair behind my ear. “Thanks.”
Riot winks at me as he rakes a hand through his messy hair, flashing a cocky, still-sleepy smile. “You ready to face the masses, Hellcat? Or should we keep you all to ourselves?”
“Not a chance,” I mutter. “Macee would riot.”
“That’s my job,” he jokes, and Jasper groans at the pun.
We head out together, moving down the hall and stairs as a pack—me between them, and for once, not feeling small or fragile or out of place. I can smell coffee, bacon, and something sweet drifting up from the kitchen. My stomach growls, reminding me I haven’t eaten since—God, who even knows?
As we round the corner, I see everyone already crowded around the dining table.
Macee’s perched on one end, legs folded up in a pretzel, eyes bright as she tells some wild story.
Ash and Jace are arguing over the last cinnamon roll, and Silas looks like he hasn’t slept in a decade but still manages a nod in our direction.
But there are more people I don’t know—I think it might be the other guys from Riot’s band.
Riot steps up, casual as ever, and sweeps an arm out. “Alright, formal introduction time—Sawyer, meet Dex, Shade, and Milo. The actual brains behind our band.”
Shade gives a lazy salute, his hair falling over one eye. Milo flashes a small, almost shy smile. “We’ve heard a lot about you,” Milo says quietly. “Mostly from Macee.”
Macee waves her fork in the air. “All good things.”
Dex nods, his voice gruff but kind. “We’re glad you’re alright, Sawyer, genuinely. Don’t feel you have to rush anything for us or the fans, okay?”
Shade chimes in, his voice lower. “We’re heading out in a bit—getting out of the house, giving you guys space. But you call, and we’re back ready to finish the tour. The fans will understand that family comes first.”
Jasper nods, grateful. “Appreciate it, man.”
I blink at them, warmth blooming in my chest—unexpected and a little overwhelming. I duck my head, smiling softly. “Thank you. I’m happy you’re here.”
Riot grins, elbowing Milo. “Told you she’s tougher than she looks.”
I catch Macee’s eye, and she pats the seat beside her. I make my way over, sliding in close. Without a word, she grabs my hand, holding tight under the table like she’s afraid I might float away. I squeeze back, clinging to her touch.
Macee leans over and stage-whispers, “So, on a scale of one to ten, how emotionally wrecked are we?”
I laugh, tears pricking at my eyes. “Somewhere around eight and a half. But breakfast is helping.”
Jace, mouth full of toast, grins at me. “You missed it, Sawyer—Macee tried to fight the driver for bringing food too slow last night. Thought she was gonna Hulk out.”
Macee shrugs, feigning innocence. “Some of us get hangry, okay? And you’ve never seen her when she’s really hungry.” She nods at me, and everyone laughs.
Ash points his fork at me, eyebrows raised. “Glad you’re here, Sawyer. Riot’s been insufferable without you.”
Riot leans back, arms spread over the back of his chair. “Yeah, well, now that she’s here, you’re all gonna have to deal with me being in a good mood. Sorry in advance.”
Silas, always quiet but sharp, gives me a long look over his coffee. “You need anything, Sawyer, anything at all, just ask. It doesn’t matter what it is.”
Jasper sits beside me, one hand finding my knee under the table, grounding me, reminding me I’m not alone. “You okay?” he asks, voice low, just for me.
I nod, breathing in the noise, chaos, and comfort. “I really am.”
Breakfast is a blur of conversation and laughter. Ash and Jace arguing about who can eat more pancakes, Dex and Milo sharing stories from past tours, Macee leaning into my side, never letting go of my hand.
At one point, Shade catches my eye and leans over. “You holding up okay?”
“Yeah. I am. Thanks for asking.”
He gives a small smile. “Cool. If you ever wanna learn to play guitar, just let me know. Best therapy there is.”
Riot leans in, teasing, “Careful, Shade. She’s got enough people fighting for her attention already.”
Macee groans, “Oh, shut up, Riot. She’s allowed to have hobbies.”
I laugh, softer now, but real. I look around at everybody, at Jasper, Riot, Macee and the boys. For the first time since everything went sideways, I feel like maybe I belong.
***
After breakfast, the house finally starts to settle—plates clatter in the kitchen.
Someone’s got music going on low, something easy and classic.
I’m curled up on the couch with Macee, still holding her hand, my body fitting against hers like it remembers all the years before men and heartbreak and monsters.
She bumps my shoulder, a glimmer in her eye. “You wanna go get some girl time today? Just us. Pool, music, maybe a drink if the guys don’t steal all the tequila?”
I almost said no. There’s a flicker of fear that feels like a bruise on my soul. But her eyes are kind, so I take a shaky breath and nod. “Yeah. But…” My gaze finds Riot and Jasper across the room, their presence like a lifeline. “Only if you two stay close. Please?”
Jasper’s already nodding. “We’re not going anywhere, Trouble. We’ll be right here.”
“Promise, Hellcat.” Riot says, assuring me.
Macee squeezes my hand, jumping to her feet. “Then it’s settled. Girl time. Come find me outside when you’re ready.”
I watch her go—long hair swinging, confidence in every step—and realize how lucky I am. Not everyone has a friend who can read the panic in your bones and know exactly what you need.
I stand, but before I move, Jasper tugs me in for a quick, fierce kiss—his lips whispering a promise against mine. Riot follows, brushing his thumb down my jaw, searching my eyes. “You’ve got this, Hellcat.”
My insides shake, but I manage a genuine, if small, smile. “Just… don’t let me out of your sight, okay?”
“Never,” Jasper promises, voice solid as stone.
I slip upstairs to change, peeling off Riot’s shirt with slow, careful hands.
For a moment, I stare at my reflection. It’s a battlefield.
Bruises ring my neck, dark and ugly, reminders of hands that didn’t love me.
My wrists and ankles bear angry red bands from the chains, and my thighs still ache from the paddle’s cruel impact.
I swallow, fingers trembling as I smooth a bandage over the cut at my hip, another at my thigh.
I almost want to cover up—hide every inch of damage. But the guys have seen it all. They always look at me as if I’m strong, not broken. Riot and Jasper touched every bruise, kissed every scar. They made me feel like more than my pain. Like maybe I’m allowed to take up space in the sun again.