Page 20 of Hymns of the Broken
No turning back now.
The tour bus is chaotic. A rolling tomb of mismatched cushions, wires, laughter, and worn leather that smells like cigarettes and body spray. In the distance, I can hear there’s already a fight over who drank the last Red Bull, someone’s blasting music too loud, and the scent of pizza and weed is clinging to every inch of the stale air. It feels alive. Loud.
“Well, well…”
My heart stutters.
He’s standing at the front like he’s been waiting for me. Jasper leans against the built-in counter, arms crossed, watching me like he’s already peeling layers off my skin.
“That was quite the show your boyfriend tried to put on back there,” Jasper says. His voice is a blade sharpened on the edge of mockery. “Shame it was fake.”
Heat crawls up my throat. I open my mouth to deny, but nothing comes out.
Was it really that obvious?
He pushes off the counter, closing the space between us with one measured step. The air shifts, thick with his presence, and the bus suddenly feels a lot smaller.
“You let him walk you in like you were on his leash,” he murmurs. “If you enjoy being controlled, if that’s what gets you off…” His gaze drags over me, slow and unhurried.“…what color leash should I buy for your pretty little neck?”
My breath catches audibly, and his gaze dips to my throat like he’s already picturing it there.
“Cute fantasy. You rehearse that in your head before I got on the bus?” I toss it out like it doesn’t send heat straight down my spine.
But it does. And Ihatethat it does.
The way he said “leash”, the way his eyes dragged over me like he was already fitting the collar himself… It shouldn’t affect me.
It shouldn’t make my mind flicker with the image of his fingers at my throat, of control disguised as care. But now it’s there. Coiled like smoke under my skin.
I shrug like I’m immune. Like my legs aren’t buzzing with nerves and my mouth isn’t dry from trying not to picture what it would feel like.
“Keep dreaming, Reign. I don’t beg.”
Not yet, anyway.
“Come on,” he says smirking as if he knows I’m pretending. “I’ll show you around.” He turns to walk off, and I suck in air as if I were drowning.
The hallway’s narrow, barely wide enough to brush past people without touching them. He gestures as we go, his voice casual.
“Bathroom. Don’t go in there after Jace. He’s got…issues. Kitchenette. If someone says they made coffee, assume it tastes like garbage. Storage—off limits unless you want your stuff stolen, or worse, ‘borrowed’.”
Next, he stops in front of a small stack of narrow bunk beds.
“This one’s yours,” he says, tapping the middle bunk. “Unless…” He leans in closer, “you’d rather crash in my room. I don’t snore, but I bite.”
My brain forgets how to come up with a comeback. His mouth curves like he knows he just set my entire bloodstream on fire.
I’m still trying to catch my breath when Jasper nods towards the lounge at the back of the bus.
“C’mon. Time for introductions.” I hesitate—just for a second. But of course, that’s all he needs. His head tilts, and that smirk returns.
“Don’t worry,” he murmurs, voice close to my ear. “They don’t bite.” Pause. “Unless I tell them to.”
My stomach flips. Goddamn him.
He disappears into the lounge, and I follow, heart pounding.
There are three guys scattered around the room. One’s barefoot on the couch, strumming an acoustic guitar like it’s the only thing keeping him sane. Another’s throwing popcorn at the one playing guitar. The third has a laptop open, headphones slung around his neck, and a scowl like he’s allergic to fun.
