Page 27 of Breaker

He shakes his head, expression dour. “Not since he informed me she tried to run and to leave her until she learned her lesson.”

What a clusterfuck.

I’m so sick of breaking things. For once I’d love to fix something. A mistake. A heart. Right a wrong without violence or blood. My entire life I’ve been told there’s only dark, monstrous things inside me. That I’m just like my father. I’m not him. Even though he trained me to be just like him, nothing about my mind or my soul match his. Fallon is cruel and controlling. He uses affection as tool. My brother’s safety as a punishment when I don’t do exactly as instructed.

I may have my father’s eyes, but I don’t have his heart.

They do.

I have to make this right.

Chapter 9

Striker

My vision blurs inand out in time with my heartbeat. Blackness invades my mind, then it fades and all I can see is Hunter’s face as we left him to die.

All because of me.

This feels like it’s all my fault. Again.

My head drops forward and I rest it on my forearm slung over my knees, trying to force the image from my mind. Lifting my head, I glance at the door next to me as I stretch my legs, debating going back into Reaper’s room, but I’m not sure if that would help or hurt the situation.

Delilah stopped yelling when she first saw me, but that lasted all of two seconds. It was the tears that made me want to untie her, but Reaper would have my head. She’s still learning. And she has to understand that even if she can’t see it now, everything we do is for a reason.

Fuck.I sound like Fallon. Justifying. But it’s true. She has to learn to obey, to follow every command, or this will never work. It will fall apart the second she doesn’t listen.

As much as I want to leave and get Cora, we aren’t ready. Cora is smart. Cunning. Fragile in so many ways, but strong enough to survive the storm until we can get to her.

She has to.

I’ll never forgive myself if she doesn’t.

Reaper.Just the thought of how he’d unravel sends a slick sensation coiling through my gut. If something happens to her, he’ll fucking go over the edge completely. This entire mission was partly his plan. Fallon only agreed because he knows how ruthless Reaper can be when he wants something. And he wants Rune to pay.

“To think she’s all tied up and we can’t even play with her.”

I glance up from the floor and see Breaker shutting the door to Viper’s room, a grim expression on his face. I hadn’t even noticed him slip past me and go into his room. I really need to sleep.

I shake my head, trying to clear it, and my head swims a little from the movement. I’ve not slept, maybe a few minutes at a time in fits and starts. My eyes sting from lack of sleep, and I rub them, trying to focus. I’ve been stuck in my head. Too lost in memories to give a fuck about much of anything. Too miserable from watching Cora being dragged away to care that we had to abide by Fallon’s orders.

Had to. As if we had no say in the matter.

As if we had nochoice.

“We had to send her, you know,” Breaker says like he’s reading my mind. Or maybe he feels as much guilt as I do and is trying to justify why we allowed her to go.

He slides down the wall, sitting next to me, hip to hip, thigh pressed against mine. He’s so much like Viper in some ways. Needing contact with one of us when he’s feeling overwhelmed. Reaper’s always kept us at arm’s length and the three of us have clung to one another all these years. Maybethat’s why I’ve always had this lingering want inside me. We’ve been through hell together and Viper and Breaker are the only ones who know what it feels like to come out alive.

The side of his boot taps mine, and I look over at him. He’s watching my mouth the way he watches Vipers when he doesn’t think anyone’s looking.

I draw my knees up to my chest, rubbing my face again. “Did we?” I ask. His pale blue eyes dart away. He feels guilty too. Good. He should. We all should.

But Father’s orders still stand and we’re expected to abide by them.

I rub my eyes, like I can rub away this deep exhaustion resting in my bones. I’m sick of blindly abiding by his orders. Sick of this life. We’ve had only a handful of missions the last few years, giving us a break, but I can still taste the acidic savagery of each mission on my tongue. Feel that bitter dread of receiving a text with nothing but coordinates and a code word. Red: shoot on sight—my specialty. Yellow: extract and hold. Blue: Gather target and intel. Then later after we arrive, another text with the name and a picture of our target. Then we move in and do as ordered.

Delilah was simple. We had formed a plan that would ensure Rune’s downfall.

---