Page 71 of Breaker

When I spot Rune, my stomach roils. The last person I want to be near is Rune, and that’s saying a lot since I’m currently being held captive by Zane.

Behind us, the music fades, and the crowd bursts into applause. I turn just in time to see the flash of a all-black lion’s mask with gold around the eyes and nose before the man turns his back to me. All I see is the smooth, deep skin of the back of his shaved head.

Pride was playing.

“Snyder showed up,” Rune says, lifting his chin in the direction of the man.

Of course, the Snyder guy would show up as pride, just like the assshole. He was too arrogant and self-important to actually come into the office to sign papers. We had to do it all digitally. Delly was so irritated that she shut off the video feed shortly after we logged on so he wouldn’t see her face. I barely even remember what he looked like—just large aviator glasses and smooth dark skin.

It must be the same guy.

“Did you send him the invite?” Rune asks Zane, who nods and says, “Sure did.”

I don’t bother hiding my eye roll. I make sure Rune and Zane see it.“Boys will be boys and all that toxic shit,” I say, jerking free of Zane’s hold. “Excuse me, gentleman, I have to take a leak.”

Rune’s face scrunches up. “Why do you insist on being so vulgar?”

I smile sweetly, patting his cheek as I pass. “Because a vulgar man raised me.”

Rune’s jaw clenches, his features hardening. I must have a death wish. Or maybe after so many weeks free of him, tucked safely away from his sickness, I know what it feels like to be fromunder his thumb, and have grown bolder, more confident in my ability to fight him.

And I need to make sure I keep that freedom.

It’s now or never.

***

I hide in the restroom as long as possible, then wander around the large gallery, chatting with a few of Rune’s associates. When I spot Zane in the corner of the room discussing an art piece with Zimmer’s wife, I give him a giant smile and slip out of the gallery and down a dark hall lined with offices. As I walk I try the handles of each door, until find one open.

With a glance over my shoulder and my stomach fluttering, I rush through the door. It’s a plain office with a simple desk and metal filing cabinets, which seems a little disappointing for an office in an art gallery. The only artful part is the large picture window framing the cityscape beyond.

I don’t bother turning on a light. He’ll find me. With my feet propped up and some art curator’s desk, I scroll through my phone and wait. A few minutes later, the office door opens, and Zane slips in.

Right on time.

“You’re like a fucking zit,” I tell him. “Popping up and ruining my day.”

“Oh, we’re resorting to schoolyard insults now?” he says, stepping into the office and shutting the door. His mask gleams, little pinpricks of light from the city hitting his mask and making it sparkle. When the lights hit his eyes, my back stiffens at the slightly wild look that’s turning them darker.

With unease swirling in my gut, lower my feet to the floor. I have to do this. Now.

“Never thought I’d say this, Zane, but I’m glad you’re here.” I stand, unzipping my little purse. My heart thunders against my chest.

Zane moves closer, and my hand drops. My foot slides back, my anima; brain screaming with alarm. That gleam in his eye makes my already quick heart rate shoot higher.

“What are you doing?” I ask, taking another step back. The need to put distance between us feels like feeling urgent enough to make my throat tighten.

The way his eyes dip to my chest tells me precisely what he’s he’s thinking.

“Are you glad I’m here so you can give me a sample?” He smirks, teeth flashing, reminding me of a hungry wolf.

Zane is a predator, eating up businesses and money. I didn’t think he was one like Rune, though, not until right this second. But I see it now. The dangerous glint. The demon he tries to hide from everyone as his smile widens. He’s not bothering to hide it now.

“Come on,” he says, stepping in closer. My back hits the window. “Lift that dress and show me.”

My stomach roils. I move to shove past him, but Zane grips my arm.

“Come on, Cora,” he snaps, dragging to him so his body is pressed to my side, his hard excitement digging into my hip, making my stomach lurch. “You’re going to have to give it up eventually. Like you do everyone else.”

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