Chapter 31 #2
“You ever say her name again in this house, I’ll rip your fucking tongue out,” I snarl. “You don’t get to talk about her. You don’t get to think about her. You sure as hell don’t get to act like you still matter.”
He laughs—a thin, desperate sound. “She didn’t even fight me, you know? Not really. I know girls like her—”
I punch him again, harder this time. Blood sprays, teeth rattle. I don’t look away.
“You had her chained up, you fucking prick. You think that makes you a man?” I whisper, voice low and mean. “Have you ever wondered why you’re the one in chains now, Blake?”
He spits at my feet, pain turning his voice ragged. “You’re both sick. Obsessive freaks—”
“Me? Obsessive?” I snort, leaning in so he can see every inch of fury on my face. “You kidnapped her, you’re obsessed. What we feel for her? That’s love, asshole. Twisted, maybe, but real. And it’s more than you’ll ever have.”
He’s trembling now, sweat slicking his hair to his forehead. “What are you gonna do to me?”
I shrug, smiling wide. “Whatever Sawyer wants, man. Your fate isn’t in my hands. Or Jasper’s. It’s hers. That’s what makes this beautiful. You took her power. Now she’s got yours. And I’m gonna enjoy every fucking second of watching you squirm while she decides what happens next.”
I straighten, roll my shoulders, and look at him. He smirks like he has nothing to worry about.
“She survived you,” I say, voice soft but lethal. “But you? You won’t survive her.”
I flick the bulb as I head for the stairs, letting it swing shadows across his ruined face. He screams at my back—threats mostly. None of it matters.
The kitchen’s all bright tile and high ceilings—too clean, too peaceful, like it doesn’t belong in the same house where Blake’s bleeding in the dark.
I yank the fridge open, half-starved, and grab the first thing I see.
Cold pizza. Doesn’t matter. I rip off a slice and turn, teeth already sinking in.
Ash is perched on the counter, swinging his feet like a kid, a soda can dripping condensation down his wrist. Jace leans against the pantry, arms folded, dark eyes tracking every move. Macee’s got her phone propped up, typing with one hand, eating grapes with the other.
She glances up, eyebrow raised. “Rough night?”
I snort, chewing. “You have no idea.”
Jace looks at me, real steady. “You done down there?”
I shrug, dropping into a chair. “For now.”
Ash pipes up, grinning. “You want me to bring him a snack? Maybe a Capri Sun and some cookies?”
Macee laughs. “Yeah, and maybe a coloring book, Ash. Jesus.”
I grin around another mouthful. “I’d say let him starve, but I think Jasper wants him alive for now.” Jace’s jaw ticks. “He better. We don’t need the cops crawling around here asking questions.”
Ash pops the tab on a new soda. “Nobody’s calling the cops. Dex and Milo got it covered. Place is locked up tighter than a nun on Sunday.”
Macee eyes me, sharp and unblinking. “You alright, Riot?”
I pause, swallowing the bite of pizza as the noise of the kitchen fades out. I shrug. “Been better, been worse. I just wanna get back upstairs. She needs me.”
Macee nods, all the hard edges gone from her face. “Then go. We’ll keep the circus down here.”
Jace bumps my shoulder as I pass. “We’ve got her back, too. Don’t forget that.”
Ash grins. “And hey—if you want me to scare Blake a little, just say the word. I do a killer Hannibal Lecter impression.”
I bark out a laugh despite myself, dropping the crust in the trash. “Maybe later, man. Maybe later.”
And then I’m heading for the stairs—my mind calming as I head back to her, to warmth, to the only thing that matters after a night this dark.
The stairs creak under my boots as I head up, cold pizza and adrenaline still buzzing through my veins. I rub at my jaw, knuckles stained from earlier, the echo of Blake’s screams still ringing in my ears. I can’t shake the way my hands still want to hurt something.
But when I push the door open, everything slows.
Sawyer is curled up in the bed, all tangled up in Jasper’s arms—her face tucked into his chest, his hand spread wide and heavy on her back, holding her close. Her hair’s a mess, mouth parted in sleep, cheeks blotchy but soft now. Safe.
Jasper’s awake.
His eyes meet mine across the darkened room. There’s no challenge in them, just a shared understanding. An understanding that we’re both still bleeding in our own ways, but for Sawyer, we’ll hold it together.
He doesn’t say anything, just brushes his thumb over her side, like he’s reminding himself she’s real, that she’s here with us.
I drop my jacket on the chair, running a hand through my hair as I just stand there watching the rise and fall of her breathing, letting it ground me.
I want to crawl in, wrap myself around her, let the nightmares go for one goddamn minute.
But I hang back, caught on the edge, letting Jasper have this moment.
He mouths something I barely catch.
She needs you, too.
My throat tightens as I move to the bed, carefully, easing down on the other side. Sawyer shifts, rolling toward me in her dreams—her hand reaching out, fingers curling in the air until they find mine. She doesn’t even wake up.
Jasper shifts closer, our knees almost touching, and his voice is low when he finally speaks.
“How are you holding up?”
“Honestly?” I sigh as I hold her a little tighter, still careful not to wake her.
“It’s been hell. I’ve been struggling, man.
Not just with everything that happened… but with the waiting.
Not knowing if we’d ever get her back.” My voice thins out.
“But it’s better now. She’s here. She’s safe. That’s all I need.”
It’s the truth, but it’s not all of it.
Because being safe and being okay aren’t the same thing. And just because she’s here, doesn’t mean she’s whole. Doesn’t mean we are either.
He nods, silent for a beat, eyes dropping to Sawyer’s face like it hurts to look at her and not touch her more than he already is. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “I get that.”
God, I missed this. The way she pulls us in without even trying. The way she makes me feel like I’m not too much, not too broken to hold onto.
The quiet wraps around us. No jokes. No posturing. Just understanding.
“She’s the strongest person I’ve ever met,” Jasper says. “But she shouldn’t have to be strong all the time.”
“No,” I agree. “Not with us here.”
I didn’t think I’d survive losing her. And I didn’t know if I could share her. But now? Now it doesn’t feel like sharing. It feels like protecting. Like we’re a shield—both of us—wrapped around something fragile and beautiful and fucking essential.
We settle into the silence again, not sleeping, just existing in the same space with the girl we’d tear the world apart for.
SAWYER
I wake slowly, sunlight soft and gold behind my eyelids.
Before I open them, pieces of my dream linger—two masked men chasing me through the woods, breathless, wild, hands everywhere, their voices low and hungry as they pin me down.
One holds my wrists in the dirt, the other’s mouth at my throat, and they take turns, relentless and filthy, using me like I belong to them.
I shiver, squeezing my thighs together under the sheets. I’m turned on. That surprises me, considering what I just went through, but a soft moan slips out, heat blooming low in my belly.
Suddenly, Riot’s voice breaks through, lazy and smug from just behind me. “Damn, Hellcat. Didn’t think you’d start moaning my name before breakfast.”
I freeze, a blush crawling up my neck as I realize I made that sound out loud. Jasper shifts on my other side, not quite awake yet, but enough to squeeze my hip possessively.
Riot presses closer, mouth at my ear, voice dropping low and dark. “What were you dreaming about, huh? Want to tell the class, or should I guess?”
I groan, hiding my face in Jasper’s chest. “Nope. Absolutely not. It was nothing.”
Riot laughs, his hand slipping under the sheet to rest on my thigh. “Nothing, huh? You sure? ’Cause you were making the prettiest little noises a second ago. Sounded like you wanted to be caught.”
“You’re lucky she didn’t wake up screaming, Riot.” Jasper says.
I peek out, just enough to see Riot’s grin. “Nah, Reign. I think she liked it. Whatever it was.”
I bite the inside of my lip, breathless and still trembling. “Maybe I did,” I whisper, letting them hear the dare in my voice. “Maybe I want to tell you both about it…”
Riot’s smirk widens, head propped up on his hand. “Maybe you want to tell us, huh?” He wiggles his brows. “Don’t tease, Sin. Spill it. Was it me in the mask, or Reign?”
Jasper shifts behind her, his palm dragging up her side. “Or both of us?”
I tuck my face into Jasper’s shoulder, hiding my grin. “Both,” I mumble, embarrassed that they already called me out. “You were both there. Masks. Woods. You chased me, caught me, and pinned me down.”
Riot groans. “Fuck, that’s hot.”
Jasper’s hand stills, fingers tightening against my waist. “Go on,” he says, voice rough. “What happened next?”
I peek at Riot through my lashes. “You—you took turns. One of you held me down while the other fucked me. Then you switched. It was… intense.”
Riot’s laugh is teasing. “You dream about getting chased and wrecked, Hellcat? ’Cause if you ask nicely, I’ll put a mask on and hunt you down any day of the week.”
I laugh, still blushing, but the shame’s gone—burned out by the way they’re both looking at me like my dirty dreams are gifts, not secrets.
Jasper nuzzles my neck, voice low and possessive. “Next time you have a dream like that, wake us up. Or maybe…” He drags his thumb over my pulse. “Maybe we’ll have to make it real. Show you what it’s like to be caught.”
Riot groans, half serious, half playful. “Careful, Reign. You say that she’s never sleeping again.”