Page 68 of Breaker

There’s a part of me that wants to tell Clyde she’s okay. That he can give up hope she’s ever coming back. Because when she does, Delly won’t be the same person. She’s theirs now.

And so am I.

But I clamp the words behind clenched teeth, and slip out of bed, walking toward my closet. When I open it, the dress Clyde had sent to the cleaners crinkles in the garment bag.

Reaper’s words flash in my mind. I’m theirs. I’m hers.

I belong to who and only who I choose to give myself to.

And it will never be Zane-fucking-Devin.

Tonight might be my only chance to get him alone. If I play my cards right, I’ll be free of him soon.

Then, I can focus on what’s important.

“Come on, girl, get dressed,” Clyde says, opening my bedroom door. “You need to get this contract typed up.”

***

The deal Rune wants isn’t a deal at all but an invite.

I type up the NDA and the rest of the contracts for each owner of the Snyder Group and watch, foot tapping, as the printer spits out pages. The paperwork includes the fees charged per year for membership and what Rune calls “The Wilderness Experience,” which is just a name he made up to entice the people he invites to join.

I don’t bother reading it over, but I glanced at it before I printed it out. All that it stated was that the new members would get the whole “Wilderness Experience” after they had passed the initiation. When I read the word “initiation,” I pictured a bunch of overgrown frat boys during hell-week, all dressed in Camo,hazing some old banker by tying him to a chair and making him chug from a keg before hopping on an ATV’s, rifles in hand.

As the pages spit out one by one, I can’t help the nervous jitter in my stomach, writhing like a snake and tangling up in my belly.

I can’t pinpoint it, but something isn’t quite right.

Not with any of this. Not with the fact Rune’s not frothing the mouth, trying to get Delly back. Not with Clyde following me around like a guard dog. Not with this invitation for the Snyder Group to join Rune’s lodge, and certainly not with the fact that Zane hasn’t said a single word to me since I stormed out of his office a few days ago.

As if the fates hate me enough that just the mere thought of him conjures his presence, Zane’s standing in the doorway of the resource room, hands in the pockets of his slacks, rocking back on his heels.

“Busy?”

I gesture to the massive printer, papers still spitting out.

“Is that the contract?” he asks, stepping forward. His excitement is palpable. “For the Snyder Group?”

“You know it is Zane,” I say, not bothering to hide my annoyance.

He rests a hip on the counter, holding supplies, hazel eyes dipping to my breasts. “Do you have your dress for tonight?”

A grin curls my lip, my insides fluttering. “I have the perfect one.”

His gaze doesn’t leave my breasts as he says, “It’s a masquerade ball. I think the theme is the Seven Deadly Sins.”

“Of course it is, Zane. You’re the expert on living each sin to the fullest.”

He leans forward, one hand still in his pocket, the other gripping the counter. That gross cologne her loves invades mynose. “I don’t expect you to like me. You liking me isn’t a concern of mine.”

“Good because I don’t.”

His grin makes my skin crawl. “But you have to act like you do, Cora. This marriage is for our families.”

“Let’s be real, Zane,” I snap, my face heating with anger. “This is for money and to get your slimy ass in good with Rune.”

“I’m already in good with Rune.” He winks, and I debate hitting him. “And yes, this is about money—“

---