Page 82 of Vengeful Melodies

This. Laughter. Banter. Connection.

A girl with fire in her eyes and softness in her hands, sitting in the middle of the storm and holding us all steady.

“Alright,” I say, clapping my hands once as I scan the room. “Do we have everything?”

“My dignity?” Bash asks, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

“Gone years ago,” Alix answers, already halfway out the door.

“Phone chargers?” Dreya asks, standing up and stretching. Her shirt rides up slightly, and Bash nearly walks into a wall. I don’t blame him.

“Check,” I murmur, watching her with a half-smile.

She catches my eye and grins, stepping close enough to tug on the sleeve of my hoodie. “You’re staring.”

“You’re mine now. I get to.”

Her eyes flicker soft for a beat before she kisses the corner of my mouth—quick and quiet, but it shuts me up like a punch to the throat.

Kaiser sees it and whoops. “God, you two are disgusting.”

“You jealous?” Bash teases.

“Of course,” Kai deadpans. “I want Takoa to kiss me on the mouth.”

I roll my eyes and toss my duffel toward the door. “Let’s go before we lose our reservation at the next place.”

We file out of the suite in our usual tangle of limbs and luggage. Dreya’s sandwiched between me and Alix, Wren and Grey trailing behind with amused grins like we’re their favorite chaotic TV show.

The RV is waiting in the loading zone, sun gleaming off the metal like a spotlight. Still smells like incense, cheap leather, and memories. We load up with practiced ease—bags stowed, snacks already stockpiled, Bash doing his usual “captain’s log” monologue as we roll out of LA.

Wren finds a spot at the tiny table, headphones half on while he scrolls. Grey joins him, flicking him behind the ear just to be annoying. Dreya settles into the back lounge area, pulling her legs up into Alix’s lap while Kai braids her hair with alarming concentration.

I take the front seat for once, watching the road unwind before us. City fades to palm trees. Palm trees fade to open highway.

We’ve got a day until the next stop. One day of music, bad snacks, shared glances, and stolen kisses. One day of being just us. And for the first time in a long time, there’s nothing missing. No questions hanging between us. No fears clawing at the back of my mind.

Dreya is ours.

We’re hers.

And whatever comes next—whatever cities, shows, or secrets—it’ll be together. That’s enough for me.

Chapter Thirty Five

Dreya

Tw-Subtle mention of Rape, not detailed but there. .

Jack’s soft snores fill the quiet space of my room, his body curled at the foot of my bed like a warm, breathing anchor. The RV hums beneath us, rolling steady through the dark, and for once, I wish it would never stop moving. Like maybe if we just keep driving, the past won’t catch up.

I’m tucked beneath a blanket that smells like Alix—clean linen, warm skin, and the faintest trace of smoke from the stage. His hoodie drowns my frame, swallowing me in comfort I didn’t realize I was starving for. My thoughts are a mess, the silence between my ears louder than the growl of the tires. I feel like I’m floating in a bubble of borrowed calm, and any second it might burst.

Wren is beside me, lounging against the headboard, legs stretched out. He’s playing with the rings on his fingers,spinning them like he’s trying to distract himself from whatever’s clawing at the inside of his chest.

I know that feeling too well.

“You okay, Jupey?” Wren asks softly, voice a low murmur, like saying it any louder might shatter the moment.