Page 102 of Hymns of the Broken
Riot’s grin is sharp, humorless, all edge. “Fair enough.”
We standthere, silent, with the same weakness carved into our chests. The only thing between us is the girl neither of us will let go of.
Neither of us moves.
Not a single word more passes between us.
RIOT
The door clicks shut behind Jasper when he finally leaves me alone, but the pressure he leaves in his wake doesn’t ease. If anything, it clings, thickening the air until it feels like I can’t breathe.
I head lean against the stone wall, arms folded, his words echoing in my head like the reverberation of a cymbal strike.
“She’s not a toy.”
No shit.
My hand rubs the back of my neck, jaw flexing as I stare at my reflection in the fountain below. It’s the kind of stare that peels back all the layers—forces you to look at who you really are beneath the tattoos, the swagger, the legend you’ve built for everyone but yourself.
Who the fuck does he think he’s talking to?
I’m not in this for a pissing contest. I’m not playing games withher, not pretending this is just another story to add to the set list. She’s not a groupie I want to bend over backstage, not a lyric I want to write into a song to forget her later.
Sawyer is… fire. Raw, beautiful fucking fire.
And I’ve been burning for her since the second I saw her.
Jasper’s right about one thing, though—she’s been hurt.
I could see it before he ever said anything. But the edge in his voice tells me it was bad.
She’s been broken before.He’strying to keep me from being another splinter in her spine.
That would’ve pissed me off—used to—but it just makes me want her more.
He’s not wrong. But he isn’t the only one who seesher.
Laughter filters up from downstairs—Ash, probably. Macee’s voice follows, lighter, brighter, slicing through the gloom.
Sawyer.
I don’t move for a beat. My fingers drum restlessly against my leg. Then I push off the wall and head inside, letting the weight of everything slide off my shoulders with a deep, shaking breath.
“You’re not the only one who’d bleed for her, Reign,” I mutter under my breath. “You’re just the one who got there first.”
I should be mad. I should want to throw something, punch a wall, shout until I shake the house.
Jasper stormed up on me like I’m some kid sniffing around something that doesn’t belong to me. Like I don’t know exactly what I want—like Sawyer’s a phase. A distraction.
But I’m not mad.
Especially not when she steps into the hallway just minutes later—barefoot, hair a mess, looking like temptation, vulnerability, and hope wrapped in an oversized tee. Her gaze flicks toward me, startled, like maybe she didn’t expect to find me here.
But, fuck, I was waiting for her.
“Hey,” I say. My hands are loose at my sides, but inside I’m coiled tight as a wire.
“Hey,” she echoes, biting the inside of her lip, eyes flickering down and then back up.
