Page 6 of The Vipers' Vow

“That’s not true. She and the others have been the closest thing I’ve had to friends since I arrived. She might not always make the best decisions, but that doesn’t mean her heart isn’t in the right place.”

“You think she’s going to contact Jarl for us and ask for Lex back?”

I hesitate. “Well, I don’t want her to get in trouble with Jarl, but I think she can pass on the number so we can ask for Lex back. Maybe if I speak to Jarl and explain…”

Zane makes a strange snorting noise.

Saint nods at him in agreement. “Jarl isn’t the kind of man who sits back and listens to explanations.”

“No, but if I’m the one he’s trying to protect…”

I’m grasping at straws. I don’t even know that he is trying to protect me. He’s more likely to have used my existence as an excuse to finally take revenge on the men he thinks are responsible for his daughter’s death.

“Didn’t he have some kind of agreement with Nataniele to stay away?” I say. “He’s broken that agreement now. We could go to him for help?”

“Jarl is not just going to let Lex go because Nataniele tells him to,” Saint says. “Plus, I don’t trust him on this. On anything. This place is a nest of vipers,” he says with a smirk. “Literally. Nataniele isn’t our friend or even our protector, or at least not beyond the bare minimum of keeping us alive. The fights he allows prove that much. When your sister died, Nataniele acted in his best interests. Not hers. He paid Jarl off and shut down all conversation about it. It was the college he wanted to protect, not us.”

Zane nods as Saint glances his way.

“He never did anything to quash those rumors, so I guess I don’t trust him. At all.”

I understand that, but still, right now, he might be our only hope.

Then I think of something Jarl mentioned during our conversation. “There is something I might be able to use as a reason to speak to Jarl. I don't know if it's enough, but at least it's something, and right now it's the only kind of leverage we've got.” They both look at me expectantly, and I take a breath and keep going. “When I had that meeting with Jarl, he told me that my mother had taken something from him all those years ago. It has sentimental value rather than being something that's worth a lot. I told him I didn't know anything about it, but I was lying. The item he wants is a gold cross on a chain. I recognized it because it's the same one my father has been wearing for as long as I can remember. I think my mother must have given it to him as a gift, though I'm not sure why. I'm starting to think there's a lot about my mother that I didn't know.”

A painful lump forms in my throat, and my vision blurs with tears. I swipe at my cheek as one escapes and rolls down my skin. I'm not just crying for my mom. I'm crying for everything that's happened, Reagan, and Lex now being in trouble. What if he gets hurt? What if he gets worse than hurt? I’ll never forgive myself. I might not have meant to get him in trouble, but just by being here, I’ve given Jarl Olsen a reason to come into their lives.

The twins might be utter assholes, and Zane might be so screwed up it hurts, but I can’t lie that they make me feel alive. I might spend my time fighting between wanting to kill them or fuck them, but they make the world a whole lot more interesting.

I'm torn up inside. This whole time I've sworn that I wouldn't get my father involved. I wanted to do everything I could to avoid there being a war between my father and Jarl. I'd believed it was what my mother wanted as well. But now I know about the necklace, I'm also doubting her motives. Was she even the same woman I'd thought I'd known all these years? I’m not sure anymore.

That cross is still around my dad's neck, as far as I’m aware. It's not as though I can somehow sneak it off him to use as bargaining power against Jarl—my dad will notice if I try to take it off him, and he'll want to know why I want it. What possible reason can I give him other than the truth? I could say I wanted it for me, but my father is an astute man. He’s not going to buy that I suddenly want his cross when I haven’t mentioned it before. My stomach churns at the thought, but I can't see any other way than coming clean. Having that cross in my possession will at least mean I'll have a reason to speak to Jarl—a reason to meet him and for him to want to meet me.

“I have to go back to the club,” I announce. “I have to see my dad and try to get that cross back, so we have something to use as leverage against Jarl.” I sigh. “My dad is going to be pissed. I’m not sure if he’ll let me have it, but I must try.”

You’re not going alone, Zane types.

Saint lifts his chin defiantly. “Definitely not. We’ll come with you.”

I gulp at the thought. I picture myself walking back into my dad’s clubhouse, with Saint flanking me on one side and Zane on the other. My dad still thinks I’m some innocent, untouched princess, and seeing those two with me is going to make him rethink that pretty damned fast.

I wonder if I might be better going alone, but I know the chances of either of the guys agreeing to that are slim to none. The last time I left the college, alone, I ended up crashed on the side of the road and then abducted by the freaky Preachers.

Something else occurs to me. “Someone should stay here in case there’s any news on Lex, or if he manages to get away and comes back here. Plus, it’s a five-hour or so drive each way, and we need someone here looking into things as much as they can while the other two are traveling.”

“He’s my brother,” Saint says immediately, “so I should be the one coming with you.”

I shake my head. “All the more reason for you to be the one who stays here. This is the only place Jarl Olsen knows to make contact, and if he’s going to contact anyone, it’s going to be you. Besides, like I said, if Lex manages to escape and comes back, he might need you.”

Saint’s lips pinch and he shakes his head. “No.”

Zane punches himself in the chest and then points at the same spot. He doesn’t need to speak to make himself clear. He should be the one who comes.

I picture us walking into the clubhouse and imagine what my father’s men would make of Saint. They’d hate him on sight. Zane would definitely fit in with them better. They’d be more likely to take Zane seriously, though I don’t say that to Saint. They might have warned Zane off, but he still is more their kind of guy than Saint.

I hold Saint’s gaze. “It should be Zane.” I sigh at the hurt in his eyes. “You can’t be away from here for what … twelve hours plus. We might need to stay overnight. The journey both ways is long, and I can’t see my father letting me turn around and go straight back after all that time on the road. Can we really risk all three of us being away from the college for the rest of today, tonight and half of tomorrow? Plus, if you’re five hours away, and we find out where he is, and it’s near here, you’ll go crazy.”

His shoulders drop, as does his line of sight. “Yeah, okay. I’ll sit around here with my hands in my fucking pants waiting for news.”

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