“He has powerbecausehe stole it,” I snap. I may have gone a bit too far with the guard, but Breaker has opened a whole new can of worms we don’t need. He has no idea just how sick Zane is. How depraved he can be.
“Zane likes the chase,” he says. “So I gave him something to chase. A little distraction while you ensure we get into the lodge.”
“We should have talked about this first.” I take a deep breath to calm down. “You can’t just go off the rails. It’s too dangerous.”
Breaker quirks a brow again. “Sorry,” he says sarcastically. “I’ll be sure to call for a vote next time. Maybe we can get the dead guards’ vote too.”
I grind my teeth so hard my jaw twitches. He knows I’m right, even if he’s being an ass about it. I made a rash decision, but so did he. Except mine isn’t anything that will jeopardize the mission.
I behaved exactly as Vincent is expected to act. Brash. Loud. Violent. If anything, if I’d not acted as I had, it would have made them suspicious. Vince is a temperamental creep, but he,me, doesn’t tolerate violence or insults toward women. I never have. Even at the wild parties we’ve attended, if you get a little too rough, I step in and fuck up your night.
“If Zane thinks I’m interested, he’ll be motivated to get us close to Rune,” Breaker says. “You saw how he was looking at me.”
“Yeah, that’s the problem.”
He chuckles darkly. “I knew you were jealous.”
“It’s not jealousy,” I snap. This idiot. How could he possibly think I’m jealous? Of Zane? The thought of any bad touching Breaker makes me murderous.
“You don’t like the thought of someone touching me,” he teases.
I give him an exasperated look. “You know that’s not what this is.”
“You said it. You don’t want anyone touching what is yours,” Breaker says. He grips my neck, squeezing slightly, and damn it if my cock doesn’t respond.
“Zane isn’t going to touch what’s mine,” I say, my voice lowering. All that anger turns to fear as he squeezes my neck again, eyes glimmering, like he’s remembering this morning. The thought of Zane’s wicked sickness anywhere near Breaker makes my stomach roil. “Because you’re not going to fucking provoke him.”
His gorgeous mouth quirks as his thumb skims over my pulse. The urge to pull him close, press him to me so I can feel his heat and hardness, has my hands skimming up his chest.
“He won’t touch me,” Breaker says, his voice dropping too.
My throat thickens. He’s so much more than my brother. He’s saved me in so many ways. Loved me through so much darkness, even though he didn’t know I was nearly drowning in it. Adored me, craved me, so openly, even though it was considered wrong. He gave me something to protect, gave me a reason to keep going during the times I wanted it all to end.
Striker is lust and my safe place.
Reaper protects us. Kills for us. Directs us and keeps us all together.
Breaker is my reason to keep going. The one thing I could protect from all the bad in the world. Because I know what happens when the world gets its teeth in you and no one bothers to keep you safe. It devours a boy whole, leaving him shaking and ruined. Discarded and overused, too broken to ever believe in love.
I did everything in my power to keep my brothers from experiencing that harsh reality, even though it lapped at our heels every moment. Breaker is so good despite the evil around him. So brilliantly beautiful that I hate the part of myself that is grateful I had him, my only pure good thing in life, because it means he endured the same hell as me.
“Sometimes I think I’m going to ruin you,” I say. “That all my bad things will spill onto you and you’ll never recover from it.”
Breaker’s grip loosens, and he tips my chin up to look at him. “Is that why you hide from me? Why you keep me at arm’s length?”
I let go of his shirt and step back. A knowing expression turns his features soft. I hate it when he looks at me like that. It’s too close to pity.
“One day you’re going to tell me everything, Viper,” he says. “About your mother, where you came from, the boy’s home where Father found you, and what happened there.” Breaker grips my arm before I can retreat too far away. “And why sometimes you get scared and panic when I touch you.”
My breathing hitches, and I shrug his hand off. Fuck. My fingers comb through my hair, and the coiled-up panic he’s talking about makes my heart skip. I open my mouth to say something to deflect when my pants vibrate.
Digging into my pocket, I pull out my phone and unlock the screen.
“What’s wrong?” Breaker asks, reaching for my phone. He snatches it and reads the message that came through our secure app. His mouth pulls down into a frown. “Fuck.”
I grab the phone and reread the text:
REAPER: I need you back here. Now. Both of you.
