Page 136 of Hymns of the Broken
I bite my lip. “I thought I would be. But when I’m with them, I don’t feel torn. I feel… chosen. Seen. It’s terrifying. But it’s real.”
Macee hums, watching me closely. “And they’re not just playing some screwed-up competition?”
I shake my head. “It started that way. But it’s shifting. They’re still them, but… they’re focused on me, not each other. I don’t know. For the first time, I don’t feel like I’m just surviving. I’m living.”
Her knee nudges mine, gently. “Well, I love that for you, my emotionally haunted disaster of a best friend.”
I grin. “Thanks, emotionally stable chaos demon.”
“Damn right.” She stretches with a groan. “Now if Ash and Jace would grow a pair and fight over me the way yours do over you, I might actually get some action around here.”
I gasp dramatically. “You? Not getting action? The apocalypse is officially coming.”
We dissolve into laughter; the sound bubbling until we’re breathless and grinning like idiots.
***
I’m alone in bed.
The ceiling fan hums overhead, moonlight spilling through the gauzy curtains. The sheets are soft against my skin, the air faintly scented with leather and cedarwood. It should be peaceful. I should feel calm.
But I don’t.
Because they’re here.
Somewhere in this house, Jasper’s probably pacing a room, scribbling lyrics like he’s exorcising demons. Riot’s probably half-naked in a t-shirt and boxers, raiding the kitchen for snacks he swore he wasn’t stealing.
And all I can think about is them.
The way Riot looked at me by the pool—heat and hunger tangled together, like he wanted to ruin me and worship me in the same breath. The way Jasper’s voice curled in my ear, like he wanted to shatter every rule I had and build new ones I’d never survive.
The way both of them shared me in the garage and touched me during that damn movie.
I shift under the covers, thighs brushing together. I’m still sore. Still marked. Still aching.
My phone buzzes on the nightstand.
Riot:“Thinking about the sounds you made on my cock last night. You should think about riding my face next.”
I inhale sharply, heart stumbling into a sprint.
Another buzz.
Jasper:“Did he leave bruises or should I leave more? I don’t mind sharing, baby, but I never play soft.”
My breath catches, my whole body tightening.
Another text—Riot again: “Bet your fingers are already between those thighs, aren’t they? Want help?”
Seconds later,Jasper: “Don’t make me come find you. Or do. Actually—do.”
My hand drifts lower, mind buzzing, body buzzing worse.
Riot:“I’ll let him watch. Or I’ll watch him wreck you. Your choice.”
Jasper:“Open your door, Trouble. Now.”
Then—both at once:
