Page 66 of Breaker

Striker’s eyes fall to the floor as Viper takes a gigantic step toward me, but I stumble back, hysteria bubbling in my throat.

“I know what guns do,” I snap. “I know that you never even have to touch someone to kill them. I know because no one laid a finger on my mother, and I watched her die in front of me.”

Viper’s entire body goes rigid.

“You know everything about me, right?” My voice scratches out of my throat, hoarse with too many emotions I can’t face. Ones I’ve refused to deal with are now simmering, boiling inside me, spilling all over. “You know what soap I like, what food I like. You’ve researched me, because you know I’m Rune’s weakness. That means you know I was right there when they shot her. That her blood hit my face and my dress, and no one came near her.”

I suck in air, my throat raw. Tears warm my cheeks, and I swipe them away, irritated at their appearance as I turn and stop dead in my tracks. Reaper’s in the doorway, eyes closed, hands braced on the frame like he’s holding himself up.

I take in deep breaths, trying to hold back the tears, but eventually surrender and let myself cry. For everything. Cora. Me. All the things we’ve lost. Rage churns my gut, hating that they’re seeing me yet again fall apart.

Viper’s hand lands on my arm, but I slap it away, fury making my vision blur. “Don’t touch me.”

He ignores me, fingers clamping around my arm, dragging me forcefully against his chest, as if he intends to comfort me.

An angry snarl rips free, even more tears flowing freely. I struggle against his hold. “I don’t want you to touch me.”

Viper’s grip tightens, arms around my stomach, masked face dipped down to the side of my neck. Something dark tangles up with that rage snaking through me, coiling up tightly with a desperate need toruin. Like I’ve been.

They’ve ruined me. My father betrayed me and hurt my best friend. He’s a perverse monster who’s, business ties and enemies made him responsible for my mother’s murder and the nightmarish images living in my head. Striker’s gentle affection chiseled me down to nothing. Breaker’s promise to protect Cora hacked away at the walls around my heart, leaving me exposed. Viper’s dangerous heat threatens to destroy me, and Reaper.

Fucking Reaper.

Striker’s face softens, like he can see the devastation they’ve all caused, and he reaches for me, but a wild, roaring storm crashes through my chest.

“I said, I don’t want you touching me,” I seethe.

The heel of my boot connects with Viper’s shin. His grip loosens and I dip, snatching up the knife, spinning on my heel to face him. With one hand, I jab downward like I’m going to stab his thigh, while I block his other arm. He moves quickly, swiping my hand holding the training knife away. I bolt sideways, repeating the movement we’ve been doing all afternoon and move around his back, but this time I keep moving, comingaround his other side and dropping to a crouch just as I shift my hold on the knife, and stab upwards, aiming for his groin.

The rubber end meets its target. Viper hisses out a choked sound, dropping to his knees, holding his crotch. “Aw, fuck, Sweetheart. That was vicious.”

Strikers surprised laugh bursts from him as I stand, chest heaving with years of hurt and anger coursing through me like hot tar, watching as Viper rolls forward, head to the floor.

“How long before he bleeds out?” Reaper asks. My head snaps up to meet his eyes. “You just stabbed him in the nuts with a hunting knife. How long would it take before he bleeds out?”

My gaze darts to Viper. “Too long. But he’s disabled.”

Viper groans.

Striker laughs, offering his hand to Viper.

“Not for long,” Reaper tells me. He motions to Viper, who’s slowly standing, gripping Striker’s shoulder. “Next time, stab the artery in the thigh. Then when he’s down, stab him in the eye, then slice his throat.”

I bite my lip, giving a quick nod in understanding as Reaper walks towards me. When we’re boot to boot, he leans down, whispering in my ear. “Good job, Kitten. But we’re going to have to work on that lying.” I turn my head to catch his eyes. They drop to my mouth. “Because we all know you want us to touch you.”

His thumb lands on my bottom lip, swiping at my smirk before he walks from the room.

Chapter 22

Cora

I’ve slept like shitfor the last six days. My days are bogged down with emptiness. Fear fills each night. Fear that Rune will send Clyde away and come for one last fuck in my childhood bed, like the pervert he is. Emptiness because parts of me feel scattered about. One piece sits in a large, run-down mansion in the room with the bed I shared with Delly. Another with a dark, broody man who barely talked to me, didn’t touch me but promised to care for me like he’d known me for years. More lie with a man who made me feel safe and coveted, touching me gently, yet so full of hunger it was as if I was his alone to worship. Another piece sits with a man whose feral energy leaked of want, making me feel bright and new when I’ve always felt dark and used. And my last piece rests in the hands of a man who reminded me I was strong, who looked at my shattered heart and didn’t turn away. Instead, he showed me his.

That’s not true.

Striker doesn’t hold the last piece of me.

They all carry parts of the woman I want to be, but I hold my pieces together.

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