Page 200 of Hymns of the Broken

Jace grins, slapping Micah’s shoulder as they file in. “You missed a show, Riot. Guy’s a whiner.”

Macee breezes through, hair damp from a shower, and gives me a reassuring smile. “You ready, girl? Place smells a hell of a lot better up here, by the way.”

Silas lingers in the doorway, the last to come up. His gaze flicks to Jasper and then to me, silent but steady.

Riot stretches, chair tipping back on two legs. “How’s our little prisoner this morning, gentlemen? Still singing the same old tune, or has he found a new reason to cry?”

Ash snorts. “Mostly just complains about the chains. Can’t sayI blame him.”

Jace raises an eyebrow. “He’s quieter since Jasper paid him a visit, though.”

Jasper doesn’t even look up from his coffee. “He’ll be quieter still after today.”

A brief, loaded silence settles over the table.

Riot catches my eye, winking before he says, “Ready when you are, Hellcat. Just say the word.”

I nod, heart pounding, knowing they’re all with me.

Chapter 32

SAWYER

The hallway to the basement is colder than the rest of the house, and somehow darker with every step. I trail Jasper, feeling Riot’s heat just behind me, his hand brushing my lower back in silent support. The door at the end is already cracked open, and I can smell the air before we reach it. Metal, sweat, something sour and electric sticks to my tongue, making me want to cover my nose.

Jasper flicks the light on as we descend, his boots thudding quietly down each wooden step. Riot’s heavier footfalls echo behind mine, hand steady at my waist—an anchor if I need one.

The basement isn’t what I expected. It’s unfinished, the walls just concrete and exposed beams, shadows puddling in the corners. There’s a thin, stained mattress in the corner that looks nothing like a bed, and chained to a chair in the middle of the room, is Blake.

He’s smaller somehow. Maybe it’s the chains? He doesn’t look up at first, just sits with his head bowed, hair greasy and falling into his eyes, jaw dark with days of unshaved stubble. He reeks of old blood, sweat, and fear. When he finally glances up, his eyes find mine and there’s a flicker of something that looks like relief, hope, maybe even guilt—but it dies quickly, replaced by that old arrogance.

It causes me to freeze halfway down the steps, heart in my throat. Riot comes to stand beside me, his shoulder brushing mine. Jasper moves ahead, blocking Blake from view for a second, making it clear who’s in charge here.

The roomis heavy with silence. Each second stretches out like a taut wire.

I can feel the bruises on my neck and wrists throbbing in time with my pulse. My palms go clammy thinking about how the last time I saw Blake, I was begging to survive. Now, I’m standing in front of him—alive, free, and not alone.

Riot leans in, voice low at my ear. “You okay, Hellcat?”

I nod, even if I don’t believe it. I have to be. I have to seehim. I have to look him in the eyes and take back everything he tried to steal.

Jasper steps aside, letting me have the space. “Your show, Trouble. We’re here, you’re safe. Say what you want. Do what you need to do.”

Blake shifts, the chains rattling. For a split second, I think he’s about to say my name. Maybe apologize or beg, but he just stares, lips curling, like he’s still clinging to whatever power he thinks he has left.

I’m not the girl he left in that bathroom, and he’s not getting out of here without answering for it.

Blake’s voice cracks through the basement, raspy from days without comfort, but still laced with that arrogant drawl that used to make me feel small. Not anymore.

“I told y’all she’dbe pissedat you for chaining me down here and leaving me to rot,” he says while proudly puffing his chest. “I told them you’d have something to say about this.”

I don’t answer him.

Instead, I let my gaze wander around the room every inch. There’s a grimy bucket in the corner. Empty food wrappers. Blood on his lower lip next to some bruises, that I’m assuming are from the guys. The cuffs dig into his wrists and ankles, causing my own wrists to ache at the memory of being chained.

Riot stands on my right, arms crossed, watching Blake like he’s just waiting for an excuse to hit him. Jasper’s on my left, posture deceptively casual, but his eyes never leave Blake’s face.

“C’mon, babe! They kept me down here for days. No one deserves this—not even me. Tell them tolet me go.”