Page 32 of Striker

Did she put me in there? Did I go in there and get trapped?

My head swirls and I grip the glossy desk before I pass out, the shadowy images of lost memories trying to cut through reality. I suck in air and look up at the dark ceiling, trying to center my thoughts.

Fallon was right. My mother was a drug addict who sold her body to put poison in her veins.

“Look at this,” Viper hisses. Something in his voice makes me drop my chin to look at him. With wide eyes, he slides two stacks of papers toward us and taps them both. Reaper and Hunter’s boyish faces look back at me.

Breaker leans in and reads the list of names and dates with me.

“Holy shit,” Breaker says, meeting my eyes.

We all knew. It’s obvious when you look at them, but having it clearly stated, typed on a sheet of paper washes away any doubts we may have had.

“Do you think they know?” Breaker asks, picking up Reaper’s paper. “Do you think he told them?”

I shake my head. There’s no way Fallon would have told them.

I grab all the files and place them back into the folder, snapping it closed before stalking over to the cabinet and shoving it back in.

“No,” I say when I turn to look at my brother’s. “And we won’t ever speak of this again.”

No one can ever know the truth.

Reaper most of all.

Chapter 13

Striker

Reaper has been ina foul mood all night. Part of me wants to tell him to go rub one out, or just convince her to fuck him already, but I think his dark mood is more abouthimthan her.

Having them here is bringing up the past.

I think we all thought that when we took them, knowing Rune was sitting at home, sick with fear, it would fix that broken piece within us, but instead, it feels like we’re being cracked open even more.

Reaper has become obsessive. Walking around and muttering to himself like some Poe character, slowly losing his mind. He’s usually focused, in control of himself during a job, but he’s unraveling more and more as the days go on.

It’s only been seven days since we took them and at the rate he’s going, he’s going to come unhinged by next week. On top of it, Viper and Breaker are spending too much time with Cora. Viper losing control and nearly fucking Cora is proof. Imay be the only one keeping my shit together, but then I usually am.

Until I don’t.

My eyes travel back to the screens as I rub my temples. My head hurts. Like I have any room to talk. I’ve been staring at these cameras just as much. The entire room reeks of male. A mixture of sweat and soap. I glance at Breaker’s spare mask next to Vipers. The room smells like them.

I rub my eyes, leaning in to get a better look at Cora. She’s sleeping, curled into a little ball in the center of the bed, all lights in the room on, the fire flickering in the background. On the other screen, Delilah is still laying across the top of the bed, face down, knees on the floor where Reaper left her about thirty minutes ago.

I haven’t seen him since I watched him on the monitors stalking from the mansion, the front door slamming so hard it popped back open. I debate going and closing it, but figure he’ll be back soon enough. Although, if Princess goes exploring, she may decide to run.

My cock thickens at the thought. What fun that would be.

A light whimper grabs my attention and I focus on Cora and turn up the volume. She shifts, curling into an even smaller ball and squeaks another little whimpering sound of distress.

She’s dreaming.

Or having a nightmare.

After hearing her scream like that the first night, we’ve all been keeping a close eye on her. She’s somehow stronger than Princess in many ways, but also more fragile in so many others. Like leaded glass, some pieces of her tightly bound with metal, less breakable, but other parts paper mache thin.

She whimpers again and murmurs that same name she was screaming. Prissy. We’ve watched the girls for a long time,dug into their pasts, and have never come across anyone named Prissy.

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