Page 24 of Vengeful Melodies (Heaven’s Guilt Revenge Tour Duet #1)
Chapter Twenty Four
Kaiser
The RV hums under us, engine vibrating through the polished steel and leather of the two-story beast we call home.
Upstairs is the sleeping quarters—messy bunks, half-packed bags, and the faint smell of sweat lingering in orners.
Down here, the lounge stretches wide, warm light bouncing off black leather seating and dark wood panels.
Dreya is sprawled across the couch, Jack tucked against her side, his head resting on her lap.
The oversized band hoodie hangs loose from one shoulder, high-waisted shorts exposing her legs, curls falling wild around her face.
Her fingers tap a rhythm on her tablet as she scrolls through promo clips, annotating here and there, her lips moving almost unconsciously with the words she mutters.
I notice the way her mouth moves when she takes a drink from the bottle beside her—slow, deliberate, the curve of her bottom lip catching the light.
Takoa slides beside her, careful, casual, knees brushing hers. He reaches under the side table, pulling out a small, black-wrapped package.
“Late birthday present,” he murmurs, voice low, almost a growl, leaning just slightly toward her so his shoulder brushes hers.
Dreya lifts a brow, smirk curling at the corner of her mouth. “You remembered?”
“Of course,” he says, deliberate, hand steady despite the tension in the air. “Thought you’d like it.”
Her fingers brush his as she peels back the paper, and my chest tightens. She lifts the book— Forgive Me Father by D.D. McDaniel—and her eyes widen. A flush creeps up her neck.
“Oh… damn,” she breathes, voice low, dangerous. “This is… dark. I like it.”
I notice the small tattoos peeking from under her hoodie sleeve—a crescent moon, a cluster of stars, a jagged little line above her wrist. My thumb itches to brush over them, to feel the heat of her skin.
Alix leans against the railing above us, drumsticks spinning lazily between his fingers, grin teasing. “Careful, Kaiser. That book might ruin you before she does.”
Bash lounges on the counter, necklaces clinking against his chest. “Or teach her how to play all of us perfectly.”
Dreya lifts her gaze to me, eyes dark, teasing, lips parting as she sips from her bottle. That small motion—the curve of her jaw, the press of her lips—twists something inside me. She laughs softly, deliberately, full of warmth and heat.
“Maybe I’ll need some help deciding,” she murmurs.
“Help deciding what?” Takoa asks, tone flat but his knee nudges hers just enough.
“You know,” she says, slow, teasing, almost predatory. “Whether I should destroy you all… or bend you to my will.”
Alix shakes his head, smirking. “Don’t give her ideas, Kaiser. She’ll take them.”
Bash leans forward, grin sharp. “I like where this is going.”
Dreya leans back into the couch, curls falling loose, book on her lap, Jack shifting under her hand. Her leg brushes mine casually, teasing, sending heat up my thigh. She knows exactly what she’s doing.
“Careful,” I mutter, low, eyes locked on her. “You’re making it very hard not to… claim you right here.”
She bites her lip, pretending not to hear, but the way her gaze flicks across my chest—deliberate, challenging—makes my gut twist.
Takoa nudges her gently, whispering, “Read it tonight. I think you’ll like the twist.” Fingers brush hers again, just a beat longer than necessary. She leans into him slightly, teasing, eyes glinting.
Dreya tilts her head toward me. “You’re staring,” she says, voice soft, playful, almost predatory.
“You’re distracting,” I shoot back, voice low. “Besides… I like watching you decide.”
Her laugh fills the RV, warm, dark, alive. My chest tightens. The others watch, smirking, aware but letting it play out, letting her pull us all under her gravity.
Jack shifts again, tail thumping, grounding us strangely, a domestic touch in the midst of chaos. But I don’t care. I can’t look away. Every inch of her radiates power, choice, and desire. And I know this is only the beginning.
If she chooses… every single one of us will fall. Hard.