Page 131 of Striker

I know why they did it. And I also know they were incapable of going through with whatever their father ordered them to do. I’m not angry with them. I understand them now.

But this man ordered them to manipulate me, and do god only knows what in order to get my cooperation. This cold, calculating man standing before me.

“Why am I here?” I ask, leaning over to place the books on the sofa I was fucked on last night. I push the thought away andmeet Fallon’s cold eyes. Part of me wonders if he told them to fuck us that night in the club or if they did that on their own.

Does it matter? I was willing every single time.

I certainly was last night.

“Revenge,” he says, tucking his hands into the pocket of his slacks.

“Not good enough,” I snap, irritation clawing up my back. “I’m aware of your thirst for revenge. Kindly explain what it is you want me to do. It’s my understanding you need my cooperation.”

Fallon’s lip curls again, and it reminds me of Reaper's smirking mask. He’s got that same slightly arrogant, wholly brutal air about him that puts me on alert. “It’s a bit more complicated than that, Delilah.”

Goose bumps prick the back of my neck the second my name slips past his lips. Dread snakes up my arms, slithering around my neck. The way he says my name is too familiar. Too sweet, like candy coated violence. Like he knows a secret about me, but will never tell.

“You collected all that evidence against Rune,” I say, glancing briefly at Reaper. “It’s safe to say that you plan to use it.”

“Indeed,” Fallon says, rocking back on his heels, cocking his head to the side as he eyes me. The man tries to have a casual air about him, but he’s too…. hard and polished to pull it off. “Our source has provided us with years of evidence. Enough to take it to the right people and have him removed.”

“This is the second time I’ve heard about a source. Is it someone close to Rune? On the inside?” I ask. Reaper mentioned this when he showed me the files, but it didn’t register. When Fallon smiles coldly, I know he’s not going to answer, not that I expected him to, so I say, “If you take thisevidence to the authorities, they’ll cover it up for Rune. He pays too well and knows too many people for them not to.”

“Which is why we haven’t,” he says. Fallon backs away, passing between the four men. He stops by the large windows overlooking the lawn at the front of the house. Pulling a black phone from inside his jacket pocket, he glances at the screen, then tucks it back.

“What do you want us to do?” I ask, growing impatient. I’ve waited weeks for answers and they are finally in front of me, yet I’m still being denied. “We’re here, willing to listen. Willing to help. Now, what do you want us to do?”

Fallon raises his brow. “We?” He turns to face me fully, eyes boring under my skin, to my bones. It feels like he’s seeing all the way down to the blood in my veins, and the unease curling around my ribs. “There is nowe. I just want you, Delilah.”

My stomach twists.

“It’s a shame,” their father says. “But we must abide by the code.”

“Father,” Viper breathes and I glance over to find his pretty blue eyes gleaming with… Fear? Dread?

God, I want to see their faces so I can read them better. Learn their tells.

Fallon spins on his heel to face Viper. “I heard you, my son, but I’m not sure if it was a question or a defiance.”

Viper’s eyes drop and my stomach hits the ground with a sparking crash. My fingers curl into my dress at my sides, gathering it in fists as Viper takes a step back.

Jesus.

“Why are you here?” I ask, my guts churning with rage. How dare this man come in here and make Viper… make himretreat.

Fallon looks over his shoulder at me. “My sons have defied an order. I’m here to correct this.”

“What order?” I snap. “I said I was willing to help. I said I was will—”

That’s when I hear it.

It’s distant at first, just a faintthump, thump, thumpingpulse like a heartbeat, but as it moves closer, I know exactly what it is.

No.

My fingers unfurl. My heart slams into my chest. I slide my foot back, shaking my head, and I turn, running for the foyer, fear ripping at my throat. I skid to a stop, frantically scanning the entry like she’ll suddenly appear and I can wrap my arms around her, when my eyes land on the partially open front door. I stumble forward, my legs weak with panic.

“Where is she?” I scream, the pulsing of the chopper blades growing louder and louder. My chest squeezes, like someone’s reached into my chest and has my heart, my lungs, my soul in a death grip, ready to rip them all from my body.

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