Page 103 of Breaker

Whatever he is to me. Whatever they are to me.

To us. Cora and I.

I miss Cora. Her even breathing as I sleep, or how she’d roll over in the night seeking me out for warmth and comfort. I’m also worried sick.

She was hurt so much, right under my nose and no one knew. What will happen to her now there’s no one to protect her? Breaker can only do so much without actually stealing her away again and since they seem to be waiting to act until I’m ready for my part in this, he’s just a shadow.

Clyde I know would do his best, but Rune…

I sit at the end of the bed, then lie back, pressing the backs of my hands to my eyes.Don’t cry. Don’t cry.Tears will do her no good. I just need to focus. They want me training so it’s obviouswhenthey send me back they want me to be able to defend myself. Reaper told me I had to be prepared.

The wooden floorboards outside my door groan, cutting off all thoughts. I sit upright, gripping the towel to my chest,heart thundering. The floor creaks again, and goose bumps rise on my arms. This old house settles every time the wind blows too hard, but I know the sound of footsteps.

My eyes drop to the doorknob. It twists slowly. My stomach knots as I watch the knob turn. The door swings open slow enough that my heart hammers in anticipation. Light from the hallway window behind him frames his body in pale light. Black pants, no shirt, his mask over his face.

No shirt.

My stomach does a little flip, excitement and anxiousness making me realize I get aroused and a little scared every time they appear because I never know what I’m going to get.

Striker pauses mid-stride when he sees me on the bed, the towel clutched to my chest.

“Why are you wearing your mask?” I ask, panic zipping through me, my heart racing for an entirely different reason. He’s only put it back on when his father appeared. “Is he back?”

Striker shakes his head and I notice the black rope draped over his bare shoulders. I open my mouth to ask why he has rope, but then Viper walks into the room.

Shirtless.

My gasp is audible.

Viper’s a large man, a wall of muscle and power. I’ve seen the perfect cut of his lower abs, that lickable V that leads to is dick. His thick forearms. But seeing him shirtless is like looking upon a work of art.

“What are you doing?” I pant, out of breath at just the sight of him. I shift to sit on my knees, eating up every muscle and shadowed curve of his chest. He’s smooth everywhere but for a light patch of hair on his pecs, slightly bronze in color. Almost gold in the late morning light streaming in through the windows. A light dusting of freckles scatters his fair-skinned broad shoulders and muscled forearms. He has the same sketch-like tattoo of five black skulls on his chest that Striker and Reaper have, the fifth one with crossed off with a slash.

The loss of their brother, I realize. My breath heaves from my lungs remembering the carvings in Reaper’s room. The one on Striker’s dresser.

He was their family. Like Cora is to me. That same heart-wrenching feeling I had when I found out Rune was hurting her makes tears sting my eyes.

“Princess,” Striker says, his tone talking that soft, mildly concerned ring he gets when he knows I’m overwhelmed, and my eyes dart to him, but snag on the rope. Viper shifts next to him, and I catch sight of the black, silky material he used to blindfold me in the dining room in his large hand.

They were coming to me.

Forme.

My heart skips, the reality that they were coming for me with the intention of tying me up and doing who knows what with me, making me dizzy.

Looks like you got what you wanted.

“Where’s Reaper?” I breathe, the thought of being with them again waking up that dark, primitive thing inside me.

Striker’s thumb skates over my lip. Sparks ignite under where his flesh meets mine. “He’ll come when he’s ready, pretty girl.”

If I try to name this hollow feeling in my chest, I know it would be disappointment. He’s avoiding me. My anger toward him maybe wasn’t as justified as it felt, but his utter refusal to spend time with me hurts.

“Come here, Sweetheart. Look at our girl.” Viper pulls a black phone from his pocket and turns the screen toward me. My gaze settles on the screen. That ache in my chest breaks, and tears spring to my eyes.

Our girl.

She’s mine and theirs.

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