Page 46 of Breaker

Now she needs us and I’m the only one here with no clue what I’m supposed to do next.

I flop down in one of the metal chairs around the large wooden table that holds my computers, and other various equipment. If I’m going to be of any use, I need to set up a way to keep an eye on her. I can’t be with her twenty-four-seven, but I can be her shadow.

Rune made her stay at his house last night, and I have a feeling he’ll continue to make her stay with him until she’s in Zane’s hands.

That means no cameras, no bugs on the inside, and I have no way of getting into his house. That was part of the problem we faced watching them before. Rune’s mansion is a fortress, and he checks for devices constantly.

How I’m going to keep her safe while she’s holed up in his home, I have no clue. Keeping surveillance was a hell of a lot easier when there were four of us taking shifts.

I lean back in the chair, spreading my legs out as I pull my phone from my pocket. I bring up the encrypted messaging app we use to communicate and pull up his code name. I type out my message and hit send.

I place my phone on the table, and stare out at various tech devices, trying to figure out how the fuck I’m going to keep her from harm until Delilah is ready and we can put an end to Rune.

Chapter 15

Breaker

15 years ago, June, Age 13

The last time Fallonallowed us to go to the village was in the spring before we began training. We didn’t know it was the last time he’d let us travel there, so we didn’t take advantage of the trip.

Of course, Fallon doesn’t know Cook loads a few of us up every week to keep him company on the drive to town for perishables. So far Fallon either hasn’t guessed at these secret outings or he doesn’t mind.

I’m going to guess the latter because Fallon knows everything that happens in the school.

“I can’t wait to get my hands on those little cakes the girl in the bakery makes,” Viper says from next to me. He’s sitting up against the cab, near the window talking with Cook on and off as we make the drive. I’m next to him, both our legs spread out. Every time the truck lurches, I slide into him, our hips smashing together, and our boots collide. He doesn’t seem to mind so I didn’t scoot away the last time I slid his way. Striker’s at our feet, his back to the wheel well, face turned up to the warm sun. None of us are wearing our uniforms, and I can’t help but stare at the black t-shirt that hugs Striker’s chest.

So much so that I turn my attention back to Viper but that just makes me think about how his white t-shirt and tight gray pants look like the outfit Marlon Brando wore in the movie Cook likes so much. Something about a streetcar. He even sort of looks like him with the way his lips pout.

Viper’s been working out hard and his body shows it. Striker too, but he’s got nothing on the large muscles of Viper’s biceps.

I wonder if I’m going to ever grow as tall and large as him. This past Spring I grew three inches, but I’m still shorter than Striker. Almost as tall as Vipe, but I have a few inches before I get anywhere near as tall as Reaper. All my training this past year has given me some muscles, but I’m still scrawny.

I hate that word. Hunter says I’m a scrawny kid and it eats at me how he smiles when he says it. Like he’s trying to provoke me into hitting him.

Fallon says my temper is going to be the end of me, but he should know I keep myself in check. He’s the one who let it free. If I unleash what really lives inside me, I don’t think my brothers would look at me the same. And Hunter would think twice about provoking me.

“Are you going to go see your favorite girl?” Striker says. That knowing smirk on his face makes my fingers itch to punch it off his face.

“You mean the girl with the black hair?” Viper asks. “The one he’s always drooling over and dances around like a love sick puppy—ow shit!”

I scowl at him, pulling my fist back as he rubs his bicep where my fist landed. “I don’t dance around her.”

“Notice he’s not denying he drools over her,” Striker says, yanking his legs up to his chest to avoid my boot. “And, she’s not even that pretty. I don’t get why you like her so much.”

“No one’s as pretty as Breaker,” Viper says with a laugh. I slap his hand away as he tries to squeeze my cheeks. “No girl could ever match this pretty face.”

“She is too,” I snap, my face heating even more as I glare at him. I hate it when he teases me about being so pretty. Fallon says boys aren’t supposed to be pretty, yet my brothers tell me constantly I have the prettiest face they’ve ever seen. “She has beautiful obsidian hair, eyes like the midnight sky, and skin so soft it’s like satin.”

Cook’s cackle rings out from the cab. “Holy shit. Do you hear this kid? Like a goddamn poet.”

My chest tightens, a knot forming right in the center. Anger makes my face burn hotter and the slick, gross feeling I get whenever Striker calls me a kid in front of Viper, slips and twists in my gut.

“Boy thinks, he’s in love,” Cook shouts. The truck jolts as we hit a pothole, and the bed creaks loudly, jumbling his next few words. I all hear is,”—since he spends the entire time in that back room with her.”

Cook’s an asshole, I remind myself. He’s probably just jealous she gives me attention and won’t even look his way. He’s not handsome, not like Reaper, and certainly not like Viper andStriker. He’s plain, American I think, his accent is like those old black and white movies he loves. Even though he’s still young, there are wrinkles around his eyes and mouth. And he has an ugly nose. It looks like it’s been broken one too many times so it’s a little smashed to his face.

Viper told me once his real name was George, but Fallon told George and the other staff at the school they were to go by their titles not their names. That we didn’t need to know their names to eat the food they cook or learn the lessons from Teacher. When I asked Viper how he knew all this he grew quiet then just said Cook told him once when he was helping him clean the kitchen as punishment for eating an extra slice of bread.

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