Page 166 of Breaker

He shakes his head. “I’m afraid this lesson will hurt me the most.”

“Father,” Striker snaps, his voice rising sharply as he struggles to free himself. “She has done nothing wrong.”

Fallon turns, marching toward Striker. He leans down, so he’s face to face with him. Striker flinches. “What one does, you all do.” He stands upright slowly, gesturing to the men holding me.

Before I can protest, one has my sweater in a tight grip and shoves it down my shoulders, pulling my arms free. I stumble forward, but they grasp my wrists yanking my arms up, until they’re outstretched. I jerk, trying to move my arms but they just pull harder. I wince, holding back a shriek of a pain.

“It’s my fault,” Reaper says. My gaze snaps to him. His chest moves, like he’s dragging air into his lungs, but he’s deadly still, eyes tracking Fallon as he moves toward me. “I am in charge of this mission. It’s my failure, and my lesson to learn.”

“Have I taught you nothing?” Fallon’s voice booms though the room. “This lesson is forallmy sons.”

“I’ll do it,” Striker says. “I’m just as much to blame.”

Fallon points at him. “You’ve already proven you don’t have the stomach for this.”

“I’ll do it,” Reaper says, but it’s like every word is ripped from him. “I’llfuckingdo it.”

Fallon marches toward and for a moment, I think he’s going to strike him, but he stops, and instead of hitting him, Fallon unbuckles his belt and pulls it free, the sound of the leather slipping through the belt loops snapping thought the space. “You don’t think I didn’t see?” He shouts. “How you look at her? How youtouchher? Boy who can’t stand living in his ownskin, has it bad for the daughter of the man who murdered his brother.”

Fallon gestures to one of the silent soldiers and he stalks forward, pulling a knife from its sheath. When he nears me, I shrink back, but he marches behind me. I twist, trying to see over my shoulder, terror gripping my stomach in fist. The back of my dress tugs away from my body and Ifeelthe knife slice through the dress, the whispering sound of the blade slicing through fabric, tearing through me.

There’s a snarled curse then movement. Reaper shoulders the man to his right and Striker kicks behind him, but the sounds of them struggling is cut off with the distinct click of a safety being released.

I recognize the sound now.

“It appears my son has forgotten his place.”

The soldiers holding Striker down, drag him up to his knees, the gun pressed to the back of his head. A clear warning not to fight. He stays still but his eyes flare with trembling rage and absolute terror.

“Don’t make me do it, Reaper,” Fallon says. “All I have to do is give the order and yourfavoritebrother dies.”

Reaper’s entire body goes rigid, his only movement the slow, ragged breaths making his chest heave. He closes his eyes briefly, like he’s trying to calm himself and when they open, he pins them on me.

Fury and fear eat at my gut. I don’t know what’s happening, but I keep my eyes on Reaper, only letting them drift to Striker long enough to see he’s completely still. I clamp my mouth shut, too terrified to say or do the wrong thing and anger Fallon even more.

He pats Reaper’s masked cheek. “Good boy. I knew you didn’t want any more deaths on your hands.”

Fallon faces me, belt dragging on the floor as he stalks my way. Fear eats up my middle, clawing at my throat when he stops before me, so close I have to tilt my head back to see his cold, dead eyes. “When you disobey an order there are consequences. You are a unit. What one does, you all do. If one of you breaks and order, defies a command,fucksup a mission, you all must learn from your mistake.”

His fingers brush over my cheek where he struck me. Bile rises in my throat. He’s absolutely terrifying. The softness of his voice contradicts his violent actions, and the gentle caress of his hand makes my heart thrash against my ribcage like a terrified, trapped bird, desperate to escape.

“Beautiful, beautiful girl,” he says gently, stroking my cheek. “With bright eyes and delicate skin. We’re going to turn you into a fierce soldier.” Another gentle stroke. “We’ll make you strong. We’ll remove this weakness in you. You’ll know your place. We’ll harden this delicate skin and turn you into a perfect weapon.”

His lips brush my forehead, and a shivery fear makes my body tremble.

“He’s not even going to see you coming,” Fallon says, every word laced with malice. He steps back, walking behind me, and I feel his eyes on my skin, moving over me like a predator, settling on my bare back. “Count my sons. One for every time you’ve failed me.”

My chest heaves.

Lesson.

Lesson.

Lesson.

I suck in a breath, my stomach knotting. I jerk sideways as understanding floods me.

When you disobey an order there are consequences.

---