He looped it around my wrists, tightening it just enough to mimic restraint without biting into my skin.As soon as it clicked, I moved—hooking my arms over his shoulders, drawing him close. I kissed him—not to distract, not to seduce, but to ground him. To say without words that I trusted him, even with this.
“Lyric…” he began.
“It’s okay. Show me.” I lifted my hands over his head, and he cradled my face and gave me a final kiss.
“Tense your arms,” he said, his voice low and steady. He moved behind me, his hands guiding my elbows outward. “Not too wide. Just enough. Now when you pull up—do it fast and sharp. As if you’re cracking something off your chest.”
I followed his movements, lifting my bound hands in a sharp motion the way he’d shown me. The plastic tie strained but held.
“Almost,” Rio murmured. “You’re weakening it. That’s the trick. It’s not about brute force—it’s pressure and angle.”
I mimicked the move again, and this time, the plastic split with a sharppop.
He gave a small nod of approval. “Good.”
“Again,” I said. The adrenaline was still fizzing in my blood, and I wasn’t satisfied with almost. I didn’t want to weaken it—I wanted to dominate it. Snap it in one brutal go.
“Lyric, I?—”
“One more,” I said, firmer this time.
He met my gaze, something uncertain in his expression. Maybe worry. Maybe pride. But he didn’t argue as he grabbed another tie, looped it around my wrists, and pulled it snug.
“Fast. Sharp,” he reminded me, stepping back.
I braced myself, teeth gritted, and slammed my arms up the way he taught me. The plastic gave with a satisfyingcrack, and for a second, I stood there, breathing hard at the pain in my wrists.
Rio exhaled. “Now that was clean.” His pride made me smile, and despite my wrists throbbing, something in my chest loosened. I had power and control.
Rio stepped to the bed, his voice low. “Come here.”
Two words that stirred something I’d never known before—calm, peace, the sense I’d finally found where I belonged.
I folded down onto the mattress next to him. He kissed my wrists, trailed his fingers over the reddening skin, muttering something I couldn’t make out, then his arm slid around my shoulder, and for a moment I let myself think we were back in the room at Redcars, and this was just any other night.
TWENTY-FOUR
Rio
Lyric sleptand I held him close, the gun Enzo had given me loose in my hand, safety off. My finger hovered near the trigger the whole damn time, and there was no way I was closing my eyes.
If someone was coming through that door, they’d be met with a bullet between the eyes. I’d already mapped every crack in the parking lot, every possible angle of entry, and I kept Lyric tucked against me, my body a shield, eyes on the door as if it was the mouth of hell.
No one came. Not yet.
Lyric shifted in his sleep, the edges of his dreams tugging at him—face drawn tight even in rest. He whimpered once, a choked sound as if he was trying to breathe through something heavy. I smoothed ahand down his spine, felt the way his muscles stayed tense, as if he didn’t trust the peace.
His lashes twitched. Cheek pressed to my chest. He looked young, vulnerable in a way that made me ache. He might be confident and strong when awake, when thinking, when planning—but here, asleep in my arms, he was something else entirely. He was mine. He’d be mine for as long as we were alive. Was it obsession? Or the raw, aching knowledge that I couldn’t survive without him? I needed him as lungs needed air, or blood needed a heartbeat. I craved him in the quiet and the chaos. And when he was near, the noise in my head dulled. I breathed easier. I breathed because of him. If all we had was tonight… and he didn’t make it through tomorrow because someone got through me… then God help whoever touched him. I’d hunt them to the ends of the earth and make them regret breathing.
His breaths came unevenly, as if he was still fighting in his dreams, jaw clenching every few seconds before relaxing again. His fingers were anchored in my shirt, and I could feel every tremor passing through him, every shift as though his body couldn’t accept peace.
I wanted to shield him from all of this, take him somewhere else so he didn’t have to go to Kessler’stower, but I couldn’t. My man was stubborn, and fuck him, he was right.
A little before three a.m., the burner buzzed, loud and sudden in the stillness. Lyric jerked awake with a gasp. I caught the phone before he could lunge for it and handed it over.
He blinked at the screen and swallowed hard.
“What does it say?”
