“I won’t spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder. I won’t give you the satisfaction of turning me into prey.”
“You hear that, asshole?She’s donebeing your victim.” Riot stalks forward.
Blake finally looks scared for the first time. “You—you won’t do it. You’re not a killer—”
Jasper answers for all of us, voice serious and deadly. “You made us killers the second you decided she was yours.”
“You think they’re gonna stick around, Sawyer? You think they’ll want you after all this? What a fucking mess you are. Trust me, no one wants to keep cleaning up your disasters forever.”
His words slice the air, bitter and venomous, and for a second I feel the old ache—like he’s dragging me back under. But this time, there’s something inside me he can’t touch. Not anymore.
“You’re wrong. I’m not yours to break anymore.”
He snorts, eyes flicking to Jasper and Riot, desperate now. “What, you think these guys want a girl who can’t sleep through the night? Who wakes up screaming? Who’s too fucked up to be loved? You want to be fucked by a masked man, for Christ’s sake. You’re a weirdo and burden, Sawyer. A fucking liability. They’ll leave you just like everybody else.”
I ignore him as I turn to look at Jasper and Riot. “You guys don’t have to help me do this. You don’t have to keep saving me. I can clean up my mess. I won’t drag you down with me.”
There’s a heartbeat of silence between the three of us that drowns out the sound of Blake trying to save his ass.
Riot closes the distance, crowding in, eyes burning into mine. “You don’t get it, Hellcat. I want to help you. I want to be the one cleaning up your messes, every goddamn one,for as long as you’ll let me. I love you. I fucking love you, Sawyer. And nothing you’ve done, nothing he says, is ever gonna change that.”
The words land like lightning, warming everything inside me. My knees tremble, and then he’s wrapping his strong around my waist.
“He’s right,” Jasper murmurs. “You’re my everything. I’m here for it all. The good, the bad, the fucking ugly. I’m not going anywhere.”
My chest hurts with how much I want to believe them. I nod, tears spilling free. “I love you. Both of you. More than I’ve ever loved anything or anyone.”
Blake spits at my feet, eyes crazed. “You’re lying! You love me! You’re mine! You’ll always be mine!”
Riot’s face twists with fury as he grabs Blake by the jaw, squeezing so hard that Blake whimpers. “She was never yours. You never deserved her, but we’re happy to show you a taste of what you deserve.”
There’s no more mercy left in the room.
Riot’s boots echo on the concrete as he circles Blake. I see Jasper grab a crowbar from the toolbox—no hesitation, no second thoughts. Riot spits at Blake’s feet, all the softness gone from his eyes. “This is your end, motherfucker.”
Blake tries to say something, but Riot’s fist cracks across his face, snapping his head sideways, splitting his lip wide open again. Blood spatters onto the floor. “You like hurting her?” Riot snarls. “Let’s see how you like it then.”
Jasper tears Blake’s shirt off, raking the crowbar down his ribs, and then swinging, making him howl on every impact. Riot grabs a leather belt, folding it over his hand. “Let’s see you beg, asshole.” He lashes Blake’s thighs brutally, leaving purple welts. Once he’s done Jasper starts hitting him in the ribs, jaw, and stomach until Blake is a sobbing, snotty, bloody mess.
I watch and I don’t flinch. My chest is tight, heart pounding so hard it hurts, but I can’t look away. I’m not afraid. All I feel is a cold, clean kind of satisfaction—watchinghimfall apart the way he made me fall apart so many times before. My men are doing this for me. Because they love me. So many emotions hit me at once and I realize I’ve never felt more seen, cared for, or loved.
Riot leans in, his voice is pure violence. “You know why we’re doing this? Every bruise, every broken bone—you earned it. Every second you tormented her, you bought this fate.”
Jasper grabs Blake by the hair, lifts his ruined face to look at him, bloodied and swollen. “You know what’s coming. You’re not leaving this room alive. Every second you’re still breathing is a mercy you don’t deserve.”
Riot steps back, chest heaving, sweat shining on his arms. “Sawyer, you don’t have to watch. But if you want to finish it—he’s yours.”
I shake my head. I’m not leaving. “He dies tonight. Right now.”
Blake is delirious as he tries to find words—“Sawyer, please—let’s talk, you know I love you, we can fix this—” But I slap him. Hard. The crack echoes in the silent room, his head snapping sideways.
“You will never touch me, haunt me, or hurt me again. You’re nothing. You don’t deserve to breathe the same air as me.”
Riot puts the gun in my hand, blood mixing as our fingers touch. The guys back away, giving me the floor and I feel their support—unmovable, fierce, proud.
Blake is a babbling, desperate mess. “You’re mine, Sawyer. You’ll always be mine. You’ll never be clean—”
“No, Blake,” I say, interrupting his nonsense. “I’m theirs. I’m mine. And I’m done letting you live in my head.”