Chapter 30 #3
I freeze, suddenly cold despite the sun and the warm water pressing in around me. My body locks up, hands gripping the pool ledge until my knuckles ache.
Blake.
Back here?
I hadn’t even seen him. Not after the bathroom. Not once. I realize, with a sickening twist in my gut, that I never asked what happened to him. I didn’t care. I cared only about getting out.
“Macee,” I croak. “Blake’s here? He came back with us?”
She gives me a look, just a little softer than usual, and lowers her voice. “Yeah, babe. He’s in the basement. Chained up, still out cold, as far as I know. Jasper and Riot made sure of it.”
A thousand thoughts crash through my mind—memories, nightmares, the smell of sweat and fear and chemical burn, the cold bite of steel on my wrists. I barely hear Macee over the sound of my pulse in my ears.
She nudges me gently with her elbow, keeping her voice low.
“Hey, don’t freak out. The cops don’t know he’s here.
All they know is you’ve been found and you’re safe.
So far, Jasper and Riot have kept them from breaking down the doors just to get your statement.
But they’re not letting anyone take him, not yet. ”
My chest tightens. “You mean… they don’t want the cops to have him?”
She shakes her head. “Nope. I think they have plans for him. The kind you don’t ask about if you want to sleep at night.”
A tremor runs through me. I try to steady my breathing, but it’s useless. Half of me wants to know what Jasper and Riot plan to do, and the other half is terrified to ask.
I stare at my reflection in the ripples, voice barely above a whisper. “Do you think… do you think they’ll really hurt him?”
Macee shrugs as she heads to the steps, her tone suddenly as cold as the pool tiles. “Honestly, Sawyer? I hope they do.”
I understand what she’s saying. There’s a darkness in my own chest that is "mwahaha-ing" at the thought of revenge, but could I really hurt him?
I towel off, skin still humming from the sun and the chlorine, hair damp and wild around my shoulders.
My muscles ache in a way that almost feels good—like maybe today I remembered what it was like to be alive and safe again, even for just a few hours.
Macee squeezes my hand as we pass back through the kitchen, telling me I can come grab her for a movie night later if I wanted to.
My head’s too full though, everything spinning since she told me about Blake—the basement, the cuffs, the secret rotation of the guys keeping watch. My stomach twists. I hadn’t even asked what had happened to him. I hadn’t even thought of asking.
How could I not know?
The house feels too bright as I move through it, towel knotted at my chest, skin prickling with nerves.
Every laugh from the living room sounds distant, every hallway too long.
I pass Ash and Jace on the stairs; their conversation dies when they see my face, but I don’t stop. I don’t trust my voice not to crack.
I find Jasper in the upstairs hallway, leaning against the doorframe to his room, arms folded tight, head bowed like he’s in deep thought. When he looks up, his eyes find me instantly.
“Sawyer.” He straightens, concern instantly sharpening his features. “You okay?”
I don’t answer right away. I move to him, heart pounding, fingers trembling as I clutch the towel tighter. “Can we talk?” My voice is too quiet, shaky. “Please. I just found out about Blake. About the basement. I didn’t—no one told me…”
He’s in front of me in two steps, hands gentle on my arms. “Hey. Hey, breathe.” His thumbs sweep over my skin, grounding me, but it only intensifies the ache. “I was going to tell you. I just wanted you to feel safe first.”
I nod, swallowing hard, fighting the urge to curl in on myself. “Is he—are you all really keeping him down there? I didn’t see him after…”
Jasper’s jaw clenches, something dangerous flickering behind his eyes. “Yeah. We are. He’s not leaving until we say so. The cops have been by to talk to you, but Silas and the guys are keeping them away. We’re not letting anyone near you, Sawyer. Not until you’re ready.”
I blink fast, tears stinging my eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
He sighs, pulling me closer, pressing my head to his chest. “Because I didn’t want to put more weight on you when you were barely holding yourself up. You’ve been through enough. We’ve got it handled. All you have to worry about is healing.”
I swallow, breathing in his scent, letting the steady beat of his heart slow mine. But I have to ask. I have to know. “What happens now, Jasper? What are you going to do with him?”
“That’s for us to figure out, but I promise, whatever happens… you’ll always be safe.” He tips my chin up so I have to look him in the eyes. “Do you trust me?”
I look into his eyes, and I nod, even as my insides tremble.
“I trust you,” I whisper. “But I need to know everything, Jasper. No more secrets. Not between us.”
He nods, jaw tight, but there’s relief in his eyes. “Okay. No more secrets. Come on, let’s go somewhere we can talk. Just us.”
And when he leads me into his room, closing the door behind us, I know this isn’t just about Blake.
Jasper closes the door behind us, the click sharp in the silence.
My heart’s pounding as he lets me move first and I take a seat at the edge of the bed.
My hands fist the towel at my chest as I stare at the floor.
He stands a few feet away, arms crossed, watching me. Not with suspicion, but concern.
“I should’ve told you sooner,” he says.
I shake my head. “You were trying to protect me. I get it. But I need to know now, Jasper. I can’t heal if I feel like I’m still in the dark. Not about him. Not about anything.”
He nods as he kneels in front of me, hands landing on my knees. “What do you want to know, baby? I’ll tell you everything.”
“Blake. He’s in the basement?”
“Yeah.” His voice is flat, but not cruel.
“Chained up. Out cold most of the time. We kept him that way at first. Now… he’s awake enough to be scared, not enough to be a threat.
Silas, Riot, Dex—they’re all taking turns watching him.
Cops only know you’ve been found, and we said you aren’t talking yet to give us a few days to decide what to do with Blake. ”
“What are you going to do with him?” I ask as my hands shake.
His eyes darken, something feral flickering there. “Nothing unless you say so. We’re also not handing him over to the police unless you want us to. He doesn’t get to decide what happens next. You do.”
That knocks the air out of my lungs. “You’d… you’d let me decide?”
He nods, firm. “If you want to face him, you can. If you want him gone, permanently, we can make that happen. If you want never to see him again, we’ll handle it. But I’m not letting anyone, not even the law, take this from you. Not this time.”
Tears sting my eyes. “What about you? Riot? All the guys? What do you want?”
“I want him dead.” His voice is a growl, barely restrained. “So does Riot. Silas is holding us back because he knows we’d do it if you gave us the order. But we won’t do anything unless you say the word. I swear.”
My breath comes in shaky bursts. “I don’t know what I want. I’m scared that if I see him, I’ll fall apart. But if I let him go… what if he comes back?”
He reaches for me, kneeling between my knees, hands cupping my cheeks. “He won’t. I promise you that. I will burn the fucking world down before I ever let him near you again. But this is your call. You get to choose.”
“Do you really think he should die? Would you and Riot really kill him?”
He doesn’t hesitate with his reply. “He took you from me. From us. He hurt you and raped you, Sawyer. He deserves to be killed, yes. He deserves to burn in hell and I wouldn’t hate being the one to send him there.
” He looks at me like I’m the only thing in the world that matters—like there’s nothing he wouldn’t burn if I asked.
He takes my hand, his thumb tracing my knuckles, grounding me. “You hold his life in your hands, Sawyer. Blake’s. Whatever happens next… it’s your call. We won’t move, we won’t touch him, unless you say so. He’s yours.”
The weight of his words are almost too much. Not just power, but the responsibility.
Blake. My tormentor. My shadow. And now… I decide his fate.
“I don’t want to be the victim anymore,” I say, meeting his gaze.
“Not to him. Not to what he did to me. I want to see him. I want him to look me in the eye and know I’m not scared of him.
I want him to feel powerless, even if it’s just for a minute.
I want him to know that he doesn’t get to decide how my story ends. ”
He squeezes my hand, rough and reverent. “Then that’s what we’ll do. It’s your choice.”
I close my eyes, breathing in the reality of it—the possibility that this time, I’m the one holding the knife, metaphorical or not. That I get to choose what happens next.
I open my eyes, fierce and confident. “I want to talk to him. I want to ask him my questions, and I want him to see exactly how little he matters to me.”
A slow, dark smile curves Jasper’s lips. “You’re not just surviving, Sawyer. You’re taking back your fucking crown.”