Page 193 of Hymns of the Broken

I shake my head. “You were trying to protect me. I get it. But I need to know now, Jasper. I can’t heal if I feel like I’m still in the dark. Not about him. Not about anything.”

He nods as he kneels in front of me, hands landing on my knees. “What do you want to know, baby? I’ll tell you everything.”

“Blake. He’s in the basement?”

“Yeah.” His voice is flat, but not cruel. “Chained up. Out cold most of the time. We kept him that way at first. Now…he’s awake enough to be scared, not enough to be a threat. Silas, Riot, Dex—they’re all taking turns watching him. Cops only know you’ve been found, and we said you aren’t talking yet to give us a few days to decide what to do with Blake.”

“What are you going to do withhim?” I ask as my hands shake.

His eyes darken, something feral flickering there. “Nothing unless you say so. We’re also not handing him over to the police unless you want us to. He doesn’t get to decide what happens next. You do.”

That knocks the air out of my lungs. “You’d… you’d let me decide?”

He nods, firm. “If you want to face him, you can. If you want him gone, permanently, we can make that happen. If you want never to see him again, we’ll handle it. But I’m not letting anyone, not even the law, take this from you. Not this time.”

Tears sting my eyes. “What about you? Riot? All the guys? What do you want?”

“I want him dead.” His voice is a growl, barely restrained. “So does Riot. Silas is holding us back because he knows we’d do it if you gave us the order. But we won’t do anything unless you say the word. I swear.”

My breath comes in shaky bursts. “I don’t know what I want. I’m scared that if I seehim, I’ll fall apart. But if I let him go…what if he comes back?”

He reaches for me, kneeling between my knees, hands cupping my cheeks. “He won’t. I promise you that. I will burn the fucking world down before I ever let him near you again. But this is your call. You get to choose.”

“Do you really think he should die? Would you and Riot really killhim?”

He doesn’t hesitate with his reply. “He took you from me. From us. He hurt you and raped you, Sawyer. He deserves to be killed, yes. He deserves to burn in hell and I wouldn’t hate being the one to send him there.” He looks at me like I’m the only thing in the world that matters—like there’s nothing he wouldn’t burn if I asked.

He takes my hand, his thumb tracing my knuckles, grounding me. “You hold his life in your hands, Sawyer. Blake’s. Whatever happens next… it’s your call. We won’t move, we won’t touch him, unless you say so. He’s yours.”

The weight of his words are almost too much. Not just power, but the responsibility.

Blake. My tormentor. My shadow. And now… I decide his fate.

“I don’t want to be the victim anymore,” I say, meeting his gaze. “Not to him. Not to what he did to me. I want to seehim. I want him to look me in the eye and know I’m not scared of him. I want him to feel powerless, even if it’s just for a minute. I want him to know that he doesn’t get to decide how my story ends.”

He squeezes my hand, rough and reverent. “Then that’s what we’ll do. It’s your choice.”

I close my eyes, breathing in the reality of it—the possibility that this time, I’m the one holding the knife, metaphorical or not. That I get to choose what happens next.

I open my eyes, fierce and confident. “I want to talk tohim. I want to ask him my questions, and I want him to see exactly how little he matters to me.”

A slow, dark smile curves Jasper’s lips. “You’re not just surviving, Sawyer. You’re taking back your fucking crown.”

Chapter 31

JASPER

I don’t even realize I’m leaning in until my lips brush hers—soft, careful, just a taste of everything I’ve missed. Sawyer sighs against my mouth, and I pull away, barely an inch between us, searching her face for any hint of hesitation. She looks at me like I’m home.

“Can I…” My voice catches, rough in my throat. “Can I kiss you the right way?”

A crooked grin tugs at her lips, teasing. “I suppose that would be acceptable.”

God, she’s perfect.

So I kiss her again. I kiss her long and slow, pouring every desperate, aching second of missing her into the way I hold her face, the way my mouth moves over hers. Her arms snake up around my neck, pulling me closer until I can barely breathe.

When I finally break away, I rest my forehead against hers. I’m grinning, but my heart’s going a million miles an hour. She giggles—a sound I thought I’d never hear again—and says, all innocent and wicked, “Jasper…you’re hard.”