Page 75 of Breaker

I know that hand. It’s the same hand that skimmed over my lips so sweetly. The hand that has been in my hair, between my legs. That’s caressed my broken parts affectionately.

A fresh sting of tears floods my eyes. I suck in air, and his name escapes on an exhale, all my fears, all the anguish, all my hope breaking free. “Breaker?”

That hand curls up, and he presses his pointer to the black helmet, telling me to hush.

Clyde shoves me forward again and says, “It’s about fucking time one of you showed up.”

Chapter 24

Breaker

4 years ago, July, Age 24

Yellow is my favoritecolor. It’s laughter and sunshine, open-faced hollyhocks and sunflowers bursting with life. Yellow is the color of joy and sun-flooded rooms.

It’s the dress of the woman standing less than one hundred feet away as I watch her from my seat on the bench in the quickly darkening park. But, as much as I love the color yellow, I decide right now that it’s not my favorite anymore.

It’s red.

Like her hair.

I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees as remove my aviators. It’s a risk, but it’s too late in the day to wear them,and since I’m currently watching for our target, I don’t need to draw attention to myself any more than I already am by sitting on a park bench by myself, staring at the tiny redhead.

She’s so beautiful it makes my chest hurt. She’s wearing a bright green hat sporting a bear with a shamrock on its stomach. The hat shadows her face, but it doesn’t hide her features. Her fair skin is nearly flawless, with the exception of a sprinkle of freckles on her nose and cheeks and hair so red it blazes like molten lava in the fading sunlight.

The encrypted message came through just two hours ago. Extract and Hold. That’s all Fallon sent us, along with the target’s name and location. Of course, we already know who our target is. And we know why we’re here. With so few people around, the only joggers or dog walkers, it will be easy to snag the target, and then slip out unnoticed.

Then we wait for further instructions.

A vice clamps around my chest. I breath out a shaky breath, ripping my eyes from the girl with red hair down to my hands, worry making my palms sweat. I’m never nervous during a mission, but fear of what Fallon will want me to do starts to eat at my gut. My skill isn’t clean and precise like Striker’s or quick and lethal like Viper’s.

No. I crack things open, slowly, painfully, until I get what I need.

It doesn’t matter that Rune brought this upon himself, the mere thought that Fallon may want to hurt a young woman as payback, makes my stomach twist grossly.

“Where’s the other one?” Viper asks in my ear, his voice cracking with static through the earbud. “The target?”

I scan the area before fixing my gaze back on the beautiful girl before me. It’s surprising there are so few people in the park. The city lights up the large park every year with hundreds of tiny fairy lights to celebrate the summer solstice. Maybe everyonehad their fill a few weekends ago during the lighting ceremony and that’s why there are so few here tonight.

“She’s pulling up now,” Striker says, and static pops noisily from the earbud fitted snuggling in my left ear. I turn my head, leaning back to rest my arm on the back of the bench and tap the earpiece to lower the volume. With a quick glance over to where Striker’s positioned on the rooftop of a small bank near the park, I settle back in my seat, casting a look in Viper’s direction, but I can’t see him. “Coming in through the back exit, Viper. Watch your six.”

“You hitting on me again, Strike?” Viper asks.

“Fuck off,” he says, but we can all hear his laughter. “Target is wearing…” His voice fades. “Fuck, man. I don’t know what that is. But that’s a hell of an outfit.”

“Black hair, right?” Viper says. “Any hats or other markers, Strike? I’m sitting on a fucking bench and can’t see shit.” Then his guttural groan snaps through the earpiece. “Holy shit.”

My head jerks in the direction of where he’s located. Viper and I are the ones Reaper said would extract the target, while he hung back, and Striker kept lookout.

“Hold tight,” Reaper growls in the earpiece. “Do not approach. Goddammit, Viper. Do not fucking engage.”

“Target is coming in from the…Jesus, fuck,” Striker growls. “You’ll see her. She’s got a guard escorting her to the—“

“Got her,” Reaper says, but his words sound slightly strangled.

From the corner of my eye, I finally see Viper, but my back straightens when I see he’s moving in the direction of the girl with fiery hair. Goddammit is right. Viper is hardnotto notice.

Like me, he stands out in a crowd.

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