Page 82 of Hymns of the Broken
I laugh, but it comes out shaky as the lap bar drops into place, locking me between them. Riot’s hand lands casually on the bar, his fingers brushing mine—just once, just enough for Jasper to notice.
I bite my lip, barely holding in a grin. The ship jerks forward, swinging us up into the dark. Riot’s hand slides over mine, bold fingers tracing the inside of my wrist. “Just so you know, sweetheart, if you scream, I’ll take it personally.”
Jasper’s grin tightens. “If she screams, it’s not because of the ride. Trust me.”
The ride swings up, momentum pressing us closer. For a second, I swear I’m floating—caught between their hands, their words, the heat crackling in every inch of space between us. I dig my nails into both their hands, testing the waters, and they both hold on tighter. Their eyes meet over my head—silent, possessive, daring each other to push further.
Ash howls behind us. “If you three start making out, at least wait ’til we’re not almost upside down!”
I can’t help but laugh, breathless, drunk off the adrenaline and attention.
When the ride finally screeches to a halt, we all pile off, legs wobbly. Jasper’s hand slides to my hip, holding me upright; Riot smirks, bumping my shoulder.
“Haunted house next?” Riot grins, mischief in his eyes.
Jasper pulls me closer, voice right at my ear, still smoldering. “Let’s see who screams first.”
He heads toward the haunted house, neon lights flickering above the tattered black tarp, the sound of screams and bad Halloween music rolling out into the night. A bored-looking carnie waves us forward.
Ash volunteers to go first, but Riot grins and cuts him off. “I’ll lead the way. Gotta make sure the ghosts know who’s in charge.”
He disappears through the hanging plastic; the crowd swallowing him whole. The others debate who’s next. Jasper squeezes my hand. “You sure you’re not scared?”
I grin, heart pounding, playing brave. “You wish.”
The sounds of laughter and screams echo down the dark corridor ahead. I let a few people go ahead, then step through the curtain alone. Darkness swallows me immediately. The air is chilly and smells like a fog machine and cheap rubber. Shapes lurch from the shadows—screaming clowns, fake cobwebs, strobes that make my head spin. I laugh once, nerves buzzing, then realize how truly alone I am in the maze of plywood and shadows. My breaths come shallow and quick, the world tight and too loud.
And just when I see the silhouette of something not in costume but wearing a mask following me, a hand darts out from behind a gravestone and snags my wrist. I gasp, pulse jumping—until I see the glint of blonde hair and that wicked, shit-eating grin.
Riot pulls me behind a rotting coffin prop, pressing me up against the wall, his body flush to mine, the scent of him—soap, smoke, and faint cologne. His breath is hot against my mouth.
“I’ve wanted to do this for days, Sawyer,” he murmurs, voice so raw it scrapes down my spine. “Couldn’t wait another second.” His hand slides up my side, calloused thumb brushing my ribs, his hips pinning me, making it clear I’m not getting away.
And then his mouth crushes over mine. It’s not wild at first, but slow and claiming—his lips moving over mine like he’s got all night to savor me, tongue teasing and then tangling with mine. His fingers find my jaw, tilting my face for better access, and I melt for him, my fingers fisting tight in his shirt, dragging him closer, chasing more. Every touch is lightning, every kiss pulling the fear out of my chest and replacing it with a dangerous hunger.
My breath catches.Hishand comes up, fingers tracing my jaw ashepulls away. He leans his forehead against mine. “You scared?” He teases, lipsbrushing my ear. “Or is that just your heart racing for me?”
His body’s all heat and danger, crowding out every thought but him. I can barely answer, caught between his mouth and the adrenaline. “Both,” I whisper, letting my hips rock against him, just enough to make his grip tighten.
He grins, cocky but soft at the same time. “Didn’t know you liked haunted houses this much, Sawyer. Maybe I’ll have to make you scream for real—” his mouth dips to my neck, teeth grazing skin marked from Jasper, and I can’t help the little sound that escapes me.
A shuffle of footsteps behind us. Riot freezes but doesn’t let go. The curtain rips back—Jasper steps through, eyes immediately finding mine, then Riot’s hands all over me.
Jasper’s jaw ticks, darkness rolling off him in waves. “You two having fun?” His voice is velvet-wrapped steel, and suddenly the haunted house feels a thousand times hotter. I can feel his eyes on me, and for a second, I’m not sure if he’s jealous or pissed.
Riot just grins back at him, not moving an inch. “Just keeping her company, Reign. Wouldn’t want her to get lost in here.” His thumb slides along my waist, just inside my shirt, daring Jasper to react.
Jasper steps closer, claiming the space, his glare promising that whatever’s about to happen, I’m not walking out of this haunted house untouched. He’s so close I can feel his breath against my neck, the steady thrum of anger—or maybe arousal—just below the surface.
His hand slides around my waist, tugging me back against him, my spine pressed firmly against his chest. His voice is a dark whisper in my ear, a velvet warning. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to wander off, Little Sin?”
I swallow hard, my heart racing wildly. “I didn’t wander—”
“Shhh.” His teeth graze my earlobe, sending shivers skittering down my spine. “Riot here seems to think you did. Maybe we should teach him exactly where you belong.”
Riot’s eyes blaze, lips curling into a wicked smirk. He doesn’t back down, stepping closer so that I’m trapped deliciously between them. “You’re awfully possessive, Reign. Sure, you’re okay with sharing?”
Jasper chuckles, “I said nothing about sharing.” His hand trails lower, fingers gripping my hip with bruised intensity. “But maybe… I’ll let you watch.”
