Page 18 of Breaker

Reaper stands in the doorway, leaning against the frame, watching me, his mask smirking like I’m sure he is. I wonder how long he’s been there. If he saw me looking at his collection of memories.

His bare hand drops to his belt, hooking his thumb in the leather band. Of course, my eyes drop. My cheeks heat, remembering him inside me. Moving into me, emitting feral groans as he fucked me. Our eyes meet. The way his gaze dips down, then back up to my face, tells me he’s remembering too.

But he says nothing.

We haven’t spoken. Not yet. He vowed to get her, but other than those few words, we’ve not spoken since he told me he’d killed to have me. I spent the morning with Striker and Cora, then didn’t see him again until I stepped foot in the library and came face to face with their father.

He’s made so many promises, yet here we are. Cora gone.

My heart in shambles.

Reaper unmoving. Barely breathing.

My skin picks with unease. I’m not sure what to say to him after everything. It feels like we’re still complete strangers. Like we didn’t say or do any of the things that lovers do. Like whoever we were the other night, whatever passion possessed us was fleeting and we’re once again just these two people staring at each other.

Captive and captor.

“Put the keys back, Delilah.”

Shit.When he says my name that way, with that slight growl laced with a warning, Iwantto defy him.

Instead of barking out the demand again, he surprises me by saying, “And why would my pretty Kitten need the car keys?”

God. I hate my body.

My belly ripples, his compliment spreading desire through me, heating between my thighs. An ache blooms, one I know he can ease, and I don’t like the sensation. It makes me feel vulnerable. This feeling of being left wanting.

So, I do what I do best.

“So, I can take a fucking scenic drive,” I snap. “Why do you think?”

He pushes off the doorframe, moving closer, and I take a step back. Even after all the intimate moments, even after his promises, I’m not foolish enough to forget what he is.

Reaper pauses when my foot slides back to keep space between us, his entire body tensing, back straightening, making him look even more intimidating. I think he must clench his teeth with how his jaw moves under his mask.

He doesn’t like that I’m putting space between us. I wonder if it’s because he knows he still scares me a little.

Maybe even a lot.

He’s a killer, after all.

His eyes darken, hardening, losing all spark they had when he slipped his cum soaked fingers in my mouth and told me I was theirs.

His.

I think… I think whatever we built, that small structure held together by promises and hope, just crumbled.

His stance widens. Arms cross, eyes narrowing in on me like I’m a target now. Not something he craves. “What’s your plan? Drive back and return to your father? And tell him what, Kitten?”

The way he says my pet name makes my skin itch, the single word splintering into a thousand needles, scraping my flesh with its harshness. It no longer holds that lustful heat.

“That you’ve fucked your captors? That you are ours now? Will you tell him how much you liked all of our cum in you?How good it feels to be with us?” Reaper takes a step backward, further away from me. He’s the one putting distance between us now and I feel that stabbing of hurt that he must have felt a moment ago. “Or were you just planning on popping in and rescuing her?”

“I don’t know,” I grit out, angry at myself for this mess I’ve let myself get into. Angry at Reaper for putting me in this position. Feeling stupid for letting myself believe for a brief moment we…

We what?

Could have a relationship? With the four men who kidnapped me, held me hostage, forced me to my knees, took a belt to me, and then sent my best friend away? I don’t think they’re the crazy ones anymore. It’s obviously me.

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