Page 44 of Hymns of the Broken
Chapter 8
SAWYER
I wake up wrapped in my thin blanket, curled in the small bunk like it might somehow protect me from my own damn thoughts.
What the hell even happened last night?
My body was a goddamn traitor, craving something I had no business wanting.
And the worst part?
Everything he said…was true. Every word. Like he cracked open my ribs and saw straight into the parts I try to hide—even from myself.
I exhale and stare at the ceiling of the bunk. It’s too early for this level of self-reflection, but it’s not like I slept much. Not with Jasper in my head. Still in my lungs.
Voices spill in from outside the bus. A soft knock taps against the metal just outside my bunk. I slide the curtain back, expecting maybe Jace being chaotic, but it’s Micah. Standing there with a cup of steaming coffee and a breakfast sandwich. He doesn’t say much—offers a small smile and a slight nod.
“I wasn’t sure what you liked,” he says, holding the cup out, “so I went safe. Hot. Sweet. Caffeine.” A beat. “I can try again if it’s terrible.”
I blink, then take it. “Thanks.”
“Yeah.” His gaze flicks over my face like he’s checking for cracks. “Saw you weren’t at the lounge. Figured… less people, more food.” The corner of his mouth lifts. “And I didn’t let Jace touch it, so it’s actually edible. Eat before Ash smells it and tax-collects your bacon. And if you want a buffer today, grab me. I’m good at filling the space with silence.”
“Silence?”
He nods. “The comfortable kind.”
I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “Thanks, Micah.”
“Anytime.” He hesitates, then adds, softer, “If you need an exit from… anyone, just say ‘strings.’ I’ll pull you.” A tiny smile. “Perks of being the quiet one. No one notices the rescue.”
I set the food and coffee on the little ledge inside my bunk and climb out, brushing sleep and last night’s confusion off my shoulders.
The moment I step into the narrow aisle, the guys glance over.
“Morning,” Silas mutters.
“You alive?” Jace adds, grinning.
Jasper doesn’t say a word. He’s sitting on the small bench, long legs spread, his gaze locked on mine with a knowing smirk that nearly sends me right back into my bunk.
I rip my eyes away and head straight for the bathroom.
Ten minutes later, I’m out of the world’s tiniest shower, clean, slightly calmer, and dressed for another scorching day in a black mesh long-sleeved shirt layered over a strappy, hot-pink bralette. Paired with some high-waisted black cargo shorts with silver zippers and side straps, and a pair of high-top black Converse.
The second my shoes hit the pavement, the sun punches me square in the chest. It’s already a dry, desert-like heat that makes my black mesh shirt cling to my skin, and the waistband of my shorts feels too tight. I eat the last bite of my breakfast sandwich, adjust my camera bag across my shoulder, tuck my phone into my back pocket before taking a breath and walking forward.
They’re all standing in a loose group in the venue’s shade, like they’ve been waiting.
Ash turns first. His eyes sweep over me once, twice, and he lets out a low whistle. “Damn, Sawyer. You trying to kill us this early in the day?”
Jace’s laughs. “You’ve got her flustered now, man. Look at that blush.”
I keep walking, pretending my heart isn’t kicking at my ribs.
Jasper’s mid-conversation with Silas, hands moving as he talks. Silas nods in my direction, and Jasper turns. For a half-second, there’s confusion in his eyes, like he hadn’t realized I had come out yet. His eyes rake down my body, taking in my outfit choice for the day. The moment his gaze lands on the sliver of pink lace peeking through the mesh shirt, the confusion vanishes.
Possession. That’s what replaces it.
