Page 106 of Hymns of the Broken
Riot exhales through his nose, sharp and hot, then finally he speaks.
“I was going to,” he mutters. “I was just… figuring out which one of these damn windows wouldn’t squeak.”
It almost makes me laugh. The slightest reluctant smirk pulls at my mouth. “Shedeserves someone who doesn’t makeher feel like a dirty little secret.”
He stands then—muscles coiling beneath tattoos and scars.
“I don’t want her to feel like that,” he says, voice rough with the truth. “I want her to feel wanted. She is wanted. More than she’ll ever know.”
And I nod once. “Well, if you wanther… really wanther… then you don’t get to sit in here stewing in silence.”
I suck in a breath. Let it out slowly, and then I say the thing that burns the most.
“You have my permission to go to her tonight.”
He scoffs, mouth twisting, but there’s no venom in it. “I don’t need your permission, but… I am happy knowing you won’t interrupt.”
“No, you don’t,” I say, voice like gravel. “But you needed to hear it.”
We stare at each other—two men caught in the same undertow, both drowning and fighting for air.
Then I turn for the door, tossing over my shoulder words sharp as broken glass. “Don’t fuck it up. If you hurt her, Riot—I will hurt you.”
The door clicks shut behind me, and I walk away—hoping he’ll do what I think he will, and hating myself for how much I need him to.
SAWYER
I’m finally settling under the blanket.
My thoughts haven’t stopped spinning, not even close. Jasper’s words. Riot’s words. The way both of them touched me, like they already knew I was theirs. I wonder if they’d be willing to share to keep me close…
Both of them? It makes no sense.
I think about it over and over in my head looking for an explanation, and that’s exactly why I can’t sleep.
So when a knock comes, my heart rockets into my throat. I freeze, every muscle tight.
Another knock, softer. Almost shy. Likehe’sgiving me a chance to ignore it.
But I hear him.
Ialwaysdo.
I slip out of bed, padded steps quiet across the floor. My fingers hesitate at the handle.
Half of me knows who it is. The other half is terrified I’m wrong.
When I crack the door open, my breath stutters.
He’s leaning against the frame in sweats, hair wild under his backwards hat like he’s been pacing the halls, eyes ringed with shadow. His gaze sweeps over me, head to toe, like he was thinking I wouldn’t come to the door.
“Hey,” Riot says, voice warm, edged with something dangerous that makes my thighs press together. “I was gonna sneak in…but apparently, I’ve been granted permission.”
I blink, surprised. “What?”
He smirks, pushing his hands into his pockets. “Broody boyfriend sent me. Told me to stop acting like a secret and go to you.”
Heat floods my cheeks.
