Page 91 of Striker

“Papa.” The word has barely left my mouth when her hands drop. She backs away, shaking her head. I suck in a breath. “Papa will hurt me again.”

Chapter 36

Striker

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

We’ve done terrible things, hurt people, killed people All out of greed and some fucked up desperation that craves approval from a man who tortured us. But, I’ve never hated myself like this. Cora’s screams make me want to rip myself apart. Tear Reaper’s fucking face off.

We are monsters. She trusts us, and we’re sending her away.

“Papa,” Cora whispers, her face crumbling. I feel like I’m crumbling. “Papa will hurt me again. He has been for years.”

Delilah shakes her head, backing away, until she crashes into Reaper. Turning, she swats him away when he tries to wrap an arm over her shoulders, but he grips her wrists and pins her to his chest.

The pain contorting her features makes my guts feel like they’re being torn out.

“Stop,” he growls. “Listen. Even if you don’t like what she has to say. Listen.”

My stomach roils. I don’t thinkIwant to listen.

“Papa.” Cora shakes her head. “Rune isn’t nice to me like he is with you. He…” She glances up at reaper, almost for reassurance. “He’s done bad things to me for years.”

Delilah tries to break from Reaper’s grasp, releasing an angry little snarl, but he forces to her remain still.

“You’re a fucking—” she doesn’t say it. She stops herself.

With an anguished cry, Delilah turns and presses her face to Reapers chest, knees growing weak as a terrible, heart wrenching sob escapes her. He wraps an arm around her to keep her upright, but then she pushes him away, slapping his chest, hitting him over and over as his arms fall to his sides.

He just stands there, letting her hit him. Letting her take her anger out. Eating it up, absorbing each hit with an inhale like he’s taking her rage into his lungs. My chest squeezes, wanting to stop her.

He doesn’t deserve her anger.

None of this is his fault.

Not entirely.

Delilah hits his chest one more time so hard, he actually rocks back on his heels, then she spins to face Cora. She stalks forward, little hands balled into fists, then grips her by her chin.

“Why didn’t you fuckingtellme?” she grates, anguish and sorrow and pure rage coloring her voice. “You should have told me.”

Cora wipes a tear, letting Delilah’s rage sink into her as much as Reaper had. “Which time?”

Delilah shakes her head, backing away and before Reaper can grab her again, she runs, shoving past Breaker in the doorway, into the house.

I step forward to follow her, but Reaper says, “Give her a minute.”

***

Breaker has refused to let Cora go ever since we returned to the library, sitting her on his lap as he rubs her back. Like if he keeps her attached to him, within arm’s reach at all times, we can’t take her from him.

The driver is out in the van on standby and Cora has just spent the last twenty minutes telling us, in horrific detail, why she can’t return.

“We knew this was possible,” Viper hisses, his eyes flashing dangerously. He glares at Reaper to my left before glancing over his shoulder to make sure Cora can’t hear us. I can practically see the many ways he’s envisioning killing Rune swirling in the blue of his eyes. “We aren’t sending her back.”

“Fuck.” Reaper presses his gloved fingers to his eyes, but then pulls them away, glancing at the thick black fabric before ripping the gloves off and throwing them to the floor. Like he can’t stand the sight of everything they represent.

The school.

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