Page 81 of Breaker

As my fingers glide over keys, I sink into the music, pouring myself into each note, my heart light at first, growing heavier as the music hits the crescendo. By the time I release the last key, the last note still ringing in the air, I blink back from that blank space my mind escapes to when I play.

I stand to take my bow, and applause echoes through the room. My gaze sweeps across the sea of faces, searching for her. Stepping back into the crowd, I shake hands, my skin burning from each touch, my chest knotting from the number of people touching my skin who would kill me in a heartbeat if they knew who I was.

“I hear you may join us at Rune’s lodge this year,” a voice says from next to me. I turn and find myself face-to-face with Don Zimmer and his wife.

Again, I’ve never been so grateful for a mask.

I take his outstretched hand, wishing I was wearing gloves so his evil couldn’t touch me the way it has touched others. I’ve seen what this man is capable of. He makes me look tame.

“Possibly,” I say, trying not to rip my grasp from his enthusiastic hand pumping.

Tap, tap, tap. My pinky finger hits my thigh.

When he finally lets my hand go, I shove it in my pocket, gathering it in a fist.

Don leans in to whisper, “I heard he’s planned a special event this year. A celebration of sorts.”

“So I’ve been told,” I say, still searching the room for our Little Red. “I’m looking forward to it.”

Anxiety tingles at the back of my neck, making my skin prick. I’m not sure if it’s from being surrounded by so many poisonous smiles, or that fact I can’t find her, but my chest feels so tight, clawing with unease, I’m about to burst open.

I don’t see her, or Zane, or Rune.

Where the fuck is Harlow?

“If you’ll excuse me.” With a practiced smile, I step onto the balcony, but it’s empty except for a few stragglers. It’s getting late and I’m beginning to think they’ve all left when I spot Harlow coming out of the restroom.

I pull my phone from my pocket and shoot him a text.

A second later, Harlow takes out his own phone and reads my message. His eyes find mine, and I see the panic contorting his features from here.

Harlow lifts his chin toward the exit. I read his meaning clearly and subtly nod back at him before he darts down the hall to his left.

Fuck.

Chapter 26

Cora

The wind whips myhair around my face as I press my cheek against his back, swallowing down the sobs that threaten to escape. With one hand clutching my long dress and the other wrapped tightly around his waist, I cling to him for dear life.

The city flies by in a blur of brilliant, shimmering colors, rumbling noise, and invasive scents as we speed down the streets. But I hardly see it, barely hear it. I only faintly taste the metallic hint of rain moving in, catch the scent of oil and exhaust, glimpse the black night against bright streaks of light, feel the vibrating engine of the bike beneath me.

Breaker slows as we approach a streetlight. The bike tilts slightly to the side as he leans on one leg. He squeezes my hand that’s gripping his waist.

The tears start again.

He came.

Reaper promised, they promised, but Breaker came for me.

I want to fling my arms around his neck and bury my face in his warmth. Scream and wail with relief. I want to get off this bike and ask all the questions, burning a hole through my mind.

But then he squeezes my hand again and we’re moving once more. We weave through cars and make turns without slowing down. It feels like we ride for hours, though I know it’s not that long, until we reach the outskirts of town. The neon-lit sidewalks give way to dark alleys and shabby buildings. High-end boutiques are replaced by Dollar General’s and liquor stores. Modern high-rises are now towering overpasses, all set against the sparkling downtown skyline in the distance.

We slow down and I tighten my legs around his hips. I lift my head from his back to take in the sight of rundown trailer parks, then empty parking lots like barren concrete fields, and large abandoned buildings with boarded-up windows.

Breaker pulls up to a tall, chain-link fence topped with barbed wire, reminding me of a prison. The gate retracts with scratching metallic sounds. The engine roars to life. He steers the bike into the empty lot and drives us toward a large metal sliding bay door of a massive old factory. Several yards behind it sits another gigantic building.

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