Page 114 of Breaker

Breaker’s lips curl into a devious smile as he pushes me to the couch and kneels before me. He leans in to kiss my knee as he takes my foot and slides on a sock. When his winter eyes meet mine, his playful wink makes me wish I didn’t have to leave.

***

The sharp, pungent odor of bleach assaults my senses as soon as we step into Clyde’s sleek and modern home. The interior matches the sterile and austere exterior perfectly. Although I’ve been here a handful of times to drop off paperwork, I’ve never stayed longer than necessary or ventured beyond his study at the front of the house.

Clyde turns my way, jaw clenching like he’s trying not to say something he’ll regret. He warned me we were going to have a chat. I just didn’t think it would be right this second. My heart races at the memory of my near assault last night, and I bite my lip, knowing that I’ll have to explain what happened to Clyde. I’m not sure how he even knew where to find me, but I’m grateful he did.

After a moment of intense inner debating, he says nothing and spins on his heel.

As I follow Clyde through the entry and into his office, I take in the home of the man who helped Rune raise me without even knowing it. Most of my interactions with Clyde as an adult revolve around business meetings with Rune and Zane, or discussions at Rune’s house about deals and mergers. He’s not just a loyal and trusted right-hand man, but also Rune’s friend who was present for every moment of my childhood.

Clyde was at every dinner my parents held with Rune. He sat around the pool watching Delly and me swim as he talked business with our parents. As we both grew older, he became like a bodyguard, accompanying us on outings and stepping in for Rune when he couldn’t or wouldn’t attend events. He was there when I came home from prom, having waited up for me with Rune until I was delivered safely home.

Clyde has always been there, silently watching over me, not realizing he was shaping the type of partner I wanted in my life. Strong. Capable. Dependable. Protective. Slightly unhinged in his love.

It’s this unhinged love that made me so scared he’d find out about Rune. As much as I hated what Rune did to me, I still loved him like a father. More. I got so mixed up, bound to him by so many traumas that part of me was terrified Clyde would kill Rune if he found out he took me by force. If he found out that force became consensual out of fear.

Because if Clyde killed Rune, he’d be labeled a traitor and killed like my parents were. And I can’t have his death on my hands. It would destroy me.

“Here.” Clyde holds out the little bag that holds my phone. My stomach sinks, the fear he looked inside and discovered the envelope, making me sick. But if he had seen it, he wouldn’t be so calm right now. He’d be dialing Rune.

“Quick,” he says, “answer any texts, so it shows you’ve been active. Rune thinks you spent last night with me. Give him proof before he suspects both of us.”

I unlock my phone and spend a few minutes responding to work-related messages. With a quick glance at Clyde, I pull up my contacts, find the name I want, and type out my message.

My thumb hovers over the send button, my heart stuttering.

I hit send.

With in seconds, it shows Zane’s read the text.

I shove my phone back in my purse and strap it to my wrist.

“This way,“ Clyde says, when he sees I’ve done as requested. He leads me out of his office toward the back of his house.

House is an understatement. It’s a sprawling modern piece of art. Everything, inside and out, is a gleaming white—the walls, the furnishings, the stucco architecture—and any accents are a dark, smokey gray-blue. It sits in the older part of town, so it’s surrounded by a large section of property overlooking the ocean, adding to the luxurious feel.

We make our way to a massive gray metal door tucked between two white square columns. I watch him press his palm to a screen and the door slides open.

Cold air hits my face. “What are we doing?”

“You’re going to shoot a gun,” Clyde says.

“Weird thing to say at 10am, but okay.”

“No weirder than me picking you up from your former kidnapper’s criminal headquarters,” he grumbles before striding through the doorway, gripping my hand to drag me along.

The interior is dim until lights gradually flicker on as he advances deeper into the space. I pause, letting out a choked breath.

“Are you serious?” I ask, turning in circles. The heavy metal door clanks shut behind me and the sound reverberates throughout the space. The massive room is painted a military gray, empty except for a section of one wall lined with flat black metal lockers. The opposite wall holds two large black and white images of an old dilapidated stage. In the center of the stage, several ballet dancers are frozen in various poses. The back is hidden in shadow, but I can make out what looks like a long table in the center.

I huff out a laugh, turning back to look at Clyde as he stalks toward the row of lockers. “Very supervillain of you, Clyde. I never pegged you as having a secret lair in your house.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, girl,” Clyde grumbles as he unlocks a metal locker and starts pulling out guns.

“Like you having an armory for one.” I step forward to look at the sleek black firearms. They look like the ones you see soldiers using in war-torn countries, and I quirk a brow in question when he glances my way. “And the fact you’re a rat for the enemy.”

Clyde picks up a large rifle and snaps the clip in place. He hooks bright orange earmuffs around my neck, then gathers some items for himself.

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