Page 25 of Hellbent (Snakes & Daggers #1)

SINCE I ARRIVED, there had been a rhythm to life here. And then, the moment I learned I could stay, it changed.

Two weeks after the showdown at Ryder’s house, the fact that I’m still here feels tentative. Like the other shoe could drop at any moment.

I’m grateful to still have this place to land, but my hyper-vigilance is in overdrive. How long can it last? How long until I break another one of Wyatt or Ryder’s rules, and then what?

I don’t belong here. Not really. And I know that the second I start to believe I do, the universe will rip it away.

Day to day, I go through the same motions, pretending nothing has changed, but it has. The routines here used to ground me. Now, they only remind me that I have nowhere else to go.

I used to take Wyatt’s presence at the garage for granted.

I used to count on him being here—when I woke up, when I fell asleep, always somewhere nearby.

But lately, he’s been disappearing. I hear his bike roaring to life in the early mornings, and then he’s just..

.gone. A day or two, sometimes three. Damian only shrugs when I ask.

The irony of us being left alone together isn’t lost on me.

After everything that happened between us, after Wyatt walking in on us, after the way Ryder looked at me—the judgment, the scorn—and then they leave us alone together again, day after day.

We laugh about it, but we both know better than to take the same risk again.

“Better safe than sorry,” Damian says the first morning Wyatt is gone, raking his gaze over my body like my shapeless coveralls are skintight. Then, voice dropping, “Even though I could come right now remembering how hot and tight your ass was.”

But even the push and pull that once felt effortless between us feels different now—our teasing bogged down by restraint.

By the weight of not touching each other.

And when the garage empties in the evenings, Jake and Damian go up to their house to get as much work in as they can before dark, now that the ground has thawed.

Jake, too tired, hasn’t come to my bed since. And I won’t go to Ryder’s house.

I haven’t seen Ryder since that day. I tell myself that’s for the best, because every time we cross paths, it ends in an explosion. I tell myself I don’t care. But I can’t stop thinking about him.

His hand closing around my bicep. The dominance in his voice. “Say that again.”

I’m ashamed of how my mind twists that memory, how it replays in flashes of heat and pressure. Ryder pinning me down. Ryder’s big hands spanking me, holding me in place, using me exactly how he wants. The thought makes my breath go tight.

I’ve never had this much time to myself, never had silence stretch so long.

I read serious books from Wyatt’s apartment, flipping through the pages like they hold answers.

I keep my hands busy, linger in the garage longer than I need to, as if work can root me here.

But I’ve never really been alone before, and the solitude makes me feel scattered and uneasy.

Tonight, at least, it feels more like old times.

It’s Saturday and Wyatt is gone again, but Damian lingers after work. Jake comes over. They don’t talk about framing, for once, or insulation, or all the work that needs to be done. Instead, we sprawl over the plaid couch in the staff lounge, joking and chatting easily.

This is what I’ll miss most one day. The comfort of them, the heat threaded through every glance.

Jake’s slow, insinuating smile, the way Damian winks if I catch his eye.

The electric promise humming beneath the surface.

I feel so lucky to have them both, to be with them both.

It’s something rare, something that shouldn’t exist, and I try not to think about a future without it and just let myself enjoy it now, while it’s real.

The energy is taut between us. I feel it when Damian stretches out beside me, his knee brushing mine, or when Jake watches me, his eyes sliding over me with naked interest. We sit and chill like we have so many times before, but with Wyatt away, the air is thick with sexual anticipation.

Jake leans in, his thigh pressed against mine, a smile playing on his lips. “So,” he asks, “you two been behaving while the boss is away? Or have I missed another show?”

I groan, nudging him with my elbow. “Shut up.”

Damian chuckles beside me. “He’s so jealous.”

“How could I not be? Sounds like it was a hell of a time.” Jake tilts his head, eyes glinting as his voice dips lower. “Bet you looked real pretty, baby.”

Electricity buzzes up my spine. Damian shifts closer, his warmth bleeding into my shoulder. “You know she’s been a very good girl since then,” he says to Jake, voice edged with bemusement. “All work and no play.”

Jake tuts, shaking his head. “Shame. We like it when Dirty Maxie comes out to play.”

His fingers graze my thigh, tracing idle circles through the fabric of my coveralls, green eyes flashing with mischief. Damian leans in, his breath warm at the nape of my neck. It still catches me off guard, being the center of their attention like this.

Two men, both circling in, touching, wanting, sharing. When they touch me I forget how to think. The dual sensation lights every nerve. Jake’s hands, Damian’s mouth, the delicious contrast between them. Sensation stacking on sensation.

Jake’s hand brushes across my shoulder, my neck. He tugs at my zipper, peeling my coveralls down my arms. Damian’s lips find my neck, brushing lightly over my skin, licking softly at my earlobe.

Jake palms my breast through my bra, kneading slowly. “Mmm,” he exhales. “So fucking soft.”

Warmth winds through my limbs. Jake’s thumb strokes over my nipple, teasing through the thin lace, while Damian’s mouth kisses a path along my neck.

A soft moan escapes before I can stop it, and that’s all it takes. Jake’s mouth is on mine, his tongue slipping between my lips.

Damian’s hands slip into my coveralls, sliding over my stomach, going low, brushing over the lace of my panties.

“I don’t think she’s trying to be good anymore,” he says, and Jake chuckles against my mouth.

But just when I want to give myself over to the teasing of their mouths and hands, something inside me resists.

Ryder’s voice plays in my head, the utter condescension of it. “We’re asking you to be a thoughtful member of this community.”

I picture Wyatt’s face if he walked in right now, and the heat in my veins turns cold.

This is exactly what I’m not supposed to be doing.

Sucking in a breath, I press my hands against Jake’s chest, pushing just enough to break the spell. “Not here.”

Damian’s hand stills, then he exhales and rests it on my hip, groaning.

“No,” he whines.

“Let’s go up to the house,” Jake murmurs.

But that’s the last place I want to go. I don’t want to go anywhere near Ryder.

“No,” I say. “Not there. Let’s go out.”

The bar is packed tonight, full of college kids celebrating the end of finals, one last surge before everything in town slows down for the summer.

Tables have been pushed out of the way, and a crowd is dancing in the center of the room.

The chaos feels like home. More like the clubhouse I’d been living in since I was sixteen than the heavy quiet of the garage when no one’s around, and tonight, it’s exactly what I need.

We find a table at the back and Damian heads to the bar for drinks, leaving me alone with Jake. His green eyes search my face.

“You good, Max?”

“Yeah,” I say automatically. Then I let out a breath. This is Jake.

"Yeah,” I repeat, quieter this time. “Just…I don’t know. Things feel different lately.”

“Different how?”

I glance down, fiddling with a cardboard coaster. “I thought once I knew I could stay, I’d feel better. Like, more grounded or whatever. But lately...it just feels like everyone’s gone all the time. I guess the quiet’s getting in my head a little.”

Jake watches me for a beat. “You feeling lonely?”

I shrug. “Maybe. I don’t know. It’s more like...everyone else has something they’re building toward. You and Damian have the house. Wyatt’s off doing…whatever the fuck Wyatt’s doing. And I’m just doing the same thing every day because I don’t know where I’m going.”

He reaches over the table and takes my hand. I drop the coaster and look up at him.

“It’s just a busy time. Damian and I are running on fumes trying to finish the reno. Wyatt’s got his own shit going on. But you’re not on the sidelines, Max. You’re part of us now. You matter.”

I swallow hard, my gaze dropping to the table. “Yeah, well. Someone tell Ryder that.”

Jake snorts. “Ryder’s a fucking mess when it comes to people he cares about. But if he didn’t give a shit, you wouldn’t still be here.”

I huff a laugh. “I wouldn’t bet on that lasting.”

The words leave my mouth before I can stop them—bitter and too honest.

Jake tilts his head, studying me for a beat. “Damn, Max. You always expect the worst, huh?”

I shrug, downplaying how much his comment hit the mark. “Just saving time,” I say casually.

“Listen.” His voice gets low and serious. “You need to trust that we have your back. That you're safe with us.”

He says it so easily. Like safety is something I should just accept. But how can I? And how can I trust in whatever this thing is between me, Jake, and Damian when I don’t even know what it is?

“Can I ask you something?” The vulnerability in my voice already makes my cheeks warm. “Jake…what are we even doing?”

He lifts a brow. “We’re drinking.”

I roll my eyes. “No. You, me, D. What even is this?”

Jake’s grin lingers, but there’s something more thoughtful behind it now. “Does it have to be something?”

I hesitate. “I don’t know. When you talk like that...like we're a thing. I guess I just wonder, how do I trust that?”

“Because it's real. Even if we don’t label it. We will always look out for you. Not just me and D. All of us.”

“And will it always be like this? The sex and everything?”