Page 211 of Hymns of the Broken

I step forward, every inch of my skin singing with newfound power, but suddenly chilled by the venom in Blake’s tone.

I stare him down, refusing to flinch.

“Then tell me, Blake. What did you do?”

He grins, all teeth, blood on his lip from where I hit him earlier. “You’ll see. You’ll see what my loving youreallymeans. You think this is the worst I’ve done?”

His words hang in the thick, humid air—like a promise or a threat. I don’t know which.

Jasper squeezes my hand. Riot shifts closer, ready for anything.

And I realize this isn’t over.

Not until every secret is out.

Not until every monsteris draggedinto the light.

Chapter 34

JASPER

Blake’s words echo through the basement like poison.

I don’t even think. My fist connects withhisjaw, with a crack loud enough to echo. I want it to hurt. I want him to feel every ounce of hate I’ve got left for what he’s done. He slumps back, blood smeared down his chin, eyes dazed.

“Watch your fucking mouth,” I snarl, and then I’m grabbing my jeans, tossing Sawyer her shirt. Riot’s already pulling on his sweats, but his glare never leaves Blake.

We don’t look back. We’re donegiving him the power to ruin anything else.

We head upstairs, Sawyer tucked between us. She’s still a little unsteady, cheeks flushed, jaw set like she’s just walked through fire and come out new on the other side.

Riot nudges her as we pass the kitchen. “You good, Angel?”

She grins—worn but wild. “Never better.”

The bathroom’s still warm from the last time we cleaned up, steam curling on the mirror. I turn on the shower, check the temp, and pull her in with me, Riot crowding in behind, all hands and gentle touches now. The room fills with the scent of her shampoo, the hiss of water, the soft hum of safety.

I brush her hair off her face, study the marks on her skin—our teeth, our hands, all the ways we’ve claimed her. But I see the bruises he left, too, and I force myself to be gentle, so fucking careful.

“You sure you’re okay?” I ask, fingers tracing her jaw.

She looks at me, then at Riot, her eyes clearer than I’ve seen in days. A strength in them that wasn’t there before.

“I’m better than okay,” she says, voice steady. “I’m not the girl he tried to break. Not anymore. You can’t shatter something that has learned how to rebuild itself.”

Riot grins, pride shining through. “Fuck, that’s my girl.”

She laughs, softer, but there’s steel in it now. “Hewanted to ruin me. But I got to choose how this ended. I get to decide who I belong to—and it’s not him.”

I kiss her hard, feeling every bit of that new fire. “Damn right. You’re nobody’s victim, baby.”

She leans into us, letting the water run down, allowing us to touch every bruise and mark—proof that she’s survived, but more than that. She’s changed.

Riot laughs, palms sliding over her hips, thumb grazing the bruise on her thigh. “You’re the toughest girl I know. Also, the wettest. Never felt you squeeze so damn tight before.”

She cackles, tossing her head back. “Well, what girl hasn’t dreamed of getting fucked and ruined right in front of her shitty ex?”

I smirk, leaning in to nip her shoulder. “That’s my girl.”