Page 37 of Vengeful Melodies (Heaven’s Guilt Revenge Tour Duet #1)

Chapter Thirty Four

Takoa

There’s something about this morning that feels lighter.

The kind of light that sinks into your chest, settles behind your ribs, and makes breathing feel easier.

Sun’s just cresting over the LA skyline, casting gold on the windows of the hotel suite as we shuffle around like hungover giants. Bags half-zipped. Coffee half-drunk. Voices rising and falling in a rhythm we’ve all grown into.

It’s chaos—but the kind that feels like home.

I shove a pair of boots into my duffel and zip it closed as Kaiser yells from the bathroom, “Who used my toothbrush?”

Bash’s voice comes right after, unapologetic: “It was purple and looked cool. I had regrets.”

`“You absolute menace!”

“I've had my tongue down your throat and your cock in my mouth.. Don't act like I have germs now.” Bash calls back, as he lays it out there for everyone.

Alix laughs, slinging a hoodie over one shoulder. “Don’t start a war when we’ve got ten minutes before checkout, yeah?”

Across the room, Dreya’s curled up on the couch, legs tucked under her, sipping from a to-go coffee cup with her name scribbled on it—plus four terribly drawn hearts courtesy of each of us.

She’s wearing my hoodie.

Still hits me in the gut every time I see her in it. Girlfriend. Ours. The word tastes like something new. Like something earned.

Wren’s sprawled on the arm of the couch beside her, sipping his drink and watching us with amused detachment. Grey’s sitting cross-legged by the door, helping Dreya knot the strings on one of her bags while they talk about some obscure horror podcast I can’t keep up with.

This—this is what I’ve always wanted. Not the noise or the flashing lights. Not the adrenaline rush of a stage or the roar of strangers screaming our name.

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.