Page 9 of The Vipers' Vow

“She was in a play with my brother, Saint, and that’s it. Rehearsals and stuff, sometimes we were all there. That’s all it was, but some of the school got ideas. Students talk, but it wasn’t anything like that. I fucking swear.”

He glances at me, but then back at Apo. “I think I would swear innocence, too. If I had a choice between an easy lie or telling the truth, and thinking Apo would cut off my dick. I’d probably lie as well.”

I can’t help myself, and I really shouldn’t, but I grin at his words. “You suck at interrogation; do you know that? You’re meant to be getting the truth out of me, not threatening me with losing my dick if I tell it. Still, it doesn’t matter because I’ve told the truth. I never hurt her. Never touched her.”

His eyes are hard, flinty diamonds as he watches me.

“You’ve seen Vani,” I say. “She’s our type, not Reagan. Your daughter was far too prissy for us to want to mess around with.”

I wait for the backlash to my words, but it doesn’t come.

Instead, he purses his lips. “Shewasa good girl. Modest. Polite.”

I want to addboringbut clamp my mouth shut. That won’t help me at all.

“I raised her that way,” he says proudly. “Still, it makes no sense what you say. The entire college thinks you did it, and none of you have tried to prove your innocence.”

“Because no one would believe us,” I snap, starting to lose any patience I had. My head is pounding. I’m definitely going to puke again. It’s only a matter of time, and it’s taking everything I have to keep my eyes open, never mind answer this dick’s questions. “They’d already made their minds up, and Nataniele seemed happy to go along with that theory too. He kept insisting it was an accident, but deep down it was like he wanted it to be us, or as if he was happy for everyone to believe it.”

I’d gladly throw the dean under the bus. He never gave a shit about us. Never tried to help or clear our names. Sure, he said Reagan’s death wasn’t to be talked about, and if he heard anyone gossiping, he’d throw them out, but he didn’t try tohelp. No one did, and that’s why the Vipers only trust each other.

“It isn’t just what people say, though, is it? After all, it was your car she landed on.” Jarl snarls at me, baring perfect white teeth.

I shrug and wince at the pain even that movement causes me. “So? What the fuck does that mean? You think your daughter was so pathetic that she threw herself to her death on my car because I, what? Messed her about in love?Merde.She wasn’t so weak. I didn’t know her well, but if I was you, I’d be trying to find who really did it, not wasting my time on people like me and my twin.”

“You say I am wasting my time?” He laughs darkly. “Maybe you’re right. Perhaps I ought to throw you to the fishes.”

His punch comes so fast I don’t have time to brace myself. Pain explodes across my cheek. My teeth snap together, and my ear buzzes annoyingly on that side as if a swarm of angry bees have taken up residence.

I raise my free hand to touch my cheek, rub it to help the pain, but it doesn’t. Fuck this. I’m going to kill these cunts when I get myself out of this.

“Where am I?” I ask. “Might as well tell me. No one is coming, right?”

“Yes, you’re probably right. No one is looking for you here.” He muses for a moment. “You’re on a lake, and that’s about all you need to know. On a luxury yacht.”

I glance around and scoff. “Not so luxurious now it’s covered in fish guts and vomit.”

“This is the kitchen, dick,” Apo says. His voice is rumbling and deep as if it’s coming up from the depths of the ground. “The place the staff prepare the food for the guests. We aren’t giving you a suite, are we? You are not a guest.” He fingers the necklace again, and his eyes narrow.

“Quite,” Jarl says. “You are decidedly not a guest, and if you don’t start talking, you’re going to become a dickless non-guest.”

Honestly, if they cut off my cock, they might as well just kill me. There is no way I’m going through the rest of my life with no dick.

“I swear I’ve told you the truth. It doesn’t matter what you do to me. It won’t change what really happened. But if you want to find the real killer, maybe I can help.” It hurts like a bitch to talk, but I push on. “Vani is good at investigating, and she’s looking into Reagan’s death because she cares. And my twin and I can hack things and have other talents. Let me go, and I’ll help you.”

He sneers. “You must think I’m an idiot. What does the biker slut know?”

Biker slut? He’s talking about Vani in a way I’d not expected. My head fucking hurts, not just from being punched in the face but from all the confusing facts swirling around in it. Maybe I’ve got this about Vani deeply wrong, and if so … I’ve just put her on his radar with regards to Reagan.

Shit, I might have just dropped Vani in danger, and I truly didn’t mean to.

“Nothing,” I say, which is the truth so far as I know. “But she wants to find out who killed her sister as badly as you do.”

The truth is, I’m not sure Vani has looked anywhere other than at us. It hurts to think she believes we’re capable of that—believes the same as everyone else. I desperately don’t want to put her in the same category as the rest, but she hasn’t believed us this whole time. Though I guess we haven’t believed her either. Is Vani the reason I’m in this position now? Or have I jumped to blaming her? Jarl doesn’t talk about her like he’s on her side. Saint said he’d seen them talking, so she must have done or said something that’s escalated everything, but perhaps by accident?

I don’t want to be angry with her when there’s a possibility I’ll never see her again. Just the thought makes it even harder to breathe.

Christ, I wish I could talk to Saint and chat all this through. It helps me think more clearly to bounce things off him.

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