Chapter 44
Viper
It’s dusk by the time we turn onto the long road that leads to the estate.
Reaper sent the message less than five hours ago, and we drove nonstop after landing at a nearby airport.
It took longer than expected to leave. We had to prepare the company jet to fly us into a small airfield nearby, not only to shorten the drive but to have a flight log of us actually leaving in case Rune looked into it.
Then, an email to Zane’s office informed him we had to leave to ensure the merchandise was properly shipped, and we’d be in contact soon.
My message to Clyde was simple and to the point.
Keep Cora healthy and happy in my absence.
Rune made me an offer. I get a wife with good family ties, who is wealthy, owns part of his company, and in return, he gets my loyalty.
Once we’re connected, if Rune goes down, I and the entire Snyder Group, goes down with him.
Rune sees himself as the king of his domain. I pledge my fealty, marry into his family, and I get all that he has to offer and his protection, but he also gets mine.
As much as I hate leaving, knowing Cora is still within Rune’s reach, I have no doubt my outburst will ensure she’s left untouched. Vince will fuck up anyone and everyone, including cancel deals, if she’s so much as humiliated before it’s finalized.
I made that abundantly clear.
I just hope we’re not here too long. Reaper’s message was risky. He’d never have sent it, much less demanded our return, unless it was important. Hell, it wasn’t even a demand, but a need. Reaper needs nothing, so this means something has happened.
We find out the second I pull the SUV down the long drive and spot the black transporter vans and Fallon’s sleek black Audi parked out front of the estate. The tires grind over the dirt and gravel as I come to a stop.
“Dammit,” I mutter. Father being here means one thing.
He’s furious.
“Yeah,” Breaker agrees. “Let me deal with this.” He opens the car door, then rubs a hand over his face. “Father is mad at me.”
“I left too,” I remind him. “And I killed Zane’s bodyguard.”
He winces. “Never mind. You deal with this,” he says right before the door shuts.
I turn off the ignition and grip the wheel, building up the nerve to face Father, before trudging up the drive behind Breaker.
Dread pools in my gut as I take the steps up to the front door.
It’s unlocked when I try the handle, the door creaking as I enter the dark foyer.
Silence greets me, and my skin crawls. Something ominous hangs in the air, and when I see the two soldiers posted at the top of the stairs leading to Delilah’s room, my stomach sinks.
She’s been locked away again.
My boots echo as I move across the foyer. “Find Father,” I tell Breaker over my shoulder. Of course he doesn’t listen and follows me upstairs. When we reach the two guarding the hallway, they both stiffen.
“Come on, Viper,” number 55 says, and reaches for his pistol at his hip. “I didn’t even know what he planned.”
I point to his gun. “I don’t advise doing that.”
“Listen, we don’t want problems,” 55 says, glancing at 48 by his side. He doesn’t drop his hand from the grip of his gun. “She’s ordered to stay in her room. And trust me, we’re not going within ten feet of her room or her.”
I grit my teeth, inhaling patience as I take in his words, noting they are positioned at the entrance to the hall and nowhere near her door. “Let me deal with Fallon later—”
“It’s not Fallon’s order,” 48 says. “It’s Reaper’s.”
“He chose us to secure her room after…” 55 glances away.
“After what?” I bark out.
“Ask Reaper.”
“Where is he?” Breaker asks.
48 points upwards.
Breaker grips my arm, pulling me away. “Calm down,” he whispers. “Let’s find Reap and get more information before flying off the handle.”
Taking a deep breath, I nod and head up the stairs.
If Reaper trusts these two, then so do I.
By the time we land on the fourth floor, I’ve gone through a million different scenarios in my head of what happened in my absence.
None of them are good. When I reach his bedroom door, I don’t bother knocking.
“What happened?” I ask, barging into his room.
Just inside the doorway, I freeze, taking in his disheveled state sprawled out on his bed.
His hair is out of place, hanging over his ears, not combed and slicked back like usual.
Shadows paint under his eyes nearly purple, giving him a haunted, desperate look, and I wonder if he’s slept.
His black pants rest low on his hips, the dim light of the bedside lamp casting a garish glow on his abdomen, making the deep ink of the tattoos over his chest look harsher than usual, the thorns on the vines snaking up to his neck, seem to sink into his skin as if embedded.
“You look like shit,” I say, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. Breaker moves past me and enters the room, casting me a worried look over his shoulder.
“What happened?” he asks Reaper.
Reaper sits up when he sees us and scrubs his hands over his face. “About fucking time.”
“We got here as fast as we could,” I say.
He swings to a sitting position, placing his bare feet on the floor. Adjusting the thin chain with the cross around his neck, he scans both of us as if checking for wounds. He brings the gold cross to his lips, absently tracing the scars, then drops it and rubs his hands over his face.
I hate seeing him like this. Such a wreck and out of sorts.
Not that I’m surprised. We’ve been watching him unravel for weeks, the seams of his control fraying and popping loose one by one as each day passed.
If he’d just admit what he craves is also his ruin, maybe he could begin to figure out a way to keep her.
Maybe we all can.
“What happened and why are Father’s soldiers outside Delilah’s room?” Breaker asks.
“57,” he grates.
“The man is an asshole,” I say. “What’s the problem?”
He lets out a humorless chuckle. “He is no longer a problem.” His dark eyes meet mine. “Fallon is down a soldier.”
My brows knit as I search his face. “As in…”
“The fucker is dead.”
Fuck.
Breaker mutters something unintelligible, his finger tapping his thigh.
“What did he do?” I ask.
“Tried to touch what wasn’t his.”
I drag my hand over my mouth, keeping my eyes locked on Reaper’s, worry lining my next word. “Tried?”
He gives a slight nod. “He attacked her in the garden last night. Strike and I were making rounds when we heard her scream. By the time we reached her, she’d stabbed him.
Before he could…” His voice trails off and he looks away, his jaw popping.
He rakes his fingers through his hair and releases a slow, steady breath.
Onyx eyes move back to us. “How’s my Baby Girl? ”
My heart almost collapses.
His girl.
Does he even realize how much he gives away every time he opens his mouth? Maybe that’s why he rarely talks. Truth just pours in rivers from him when he does.
“She’s fine,” I say, daring a look at Breaker. When our eyes connect, his lips pull down, and then he looks at his feet.
That’s right. Keep your mouth shut.
If Reaper found out Rune attacked Cora, it would kill him. He’s manipulated this entire mission, and so far everything has worked in his favor. Everything except that.
Reaper studies my face, then glances at Breaker, looking for a reaction. “Fine?”
“On track to marry Vincent Campbell,” I say. “Just as you planned.”
Reaper’s perfect black brow quirks. “You?” He makes a sound in his throat. “That I didn’t predict. I thought it would be you, Breaker.”
“Maybe you should stop playing God and—” I start but Reaper waves my words away.
“Change into your uniforms,” he tells us, pushing off his bed and heading toward the dresser. He removes a shirt from a drawer and pulls it over his head, running his fingers through his sleek black hair. “We need to have a chat with Father.”
***
We find him in the large study of the west wing, sitting at the old wooden desk with his laptop. Striker sits on the worn settee nearby, his focus on the window overlooking the front of the estate, watching a handful of soldiers loading boxes into one of the transport vans.
The second we enter the room, Striker’s gaze snaps to me. Anger furrows his brows, and damn him if his irritation doesn’t make him look sexy as fuck. When Breaker enters, he sits back in his seat, looking him up and down, like he’s checking to make sure he’s safe.
Or appreciating the view.
I’m not the only one who looks.
We're all in uniform, and I note that Striker has his knife at his belt just like Breaker and me. When Reaper stomps into the room behind me, then sinks onto the small sofa next to Striker, I note his knife too. I also note Father doesn’t bother looking up from his laptop as we all wait for him to speak, but a hint of a smug smile touches the corner of his mouth.
“Look who’s decided to join us,” he says, finally. “How kind of my sons to visit me.” He leans back in his seat, pinning me with a cold glare. “Did you finalize the details before you left?”
“The large shipment finalized during the original sale is now on the way,” I tell him. “Rune will have them all in time for the hunt.”
“Good. And the second set of weapons?”
“Being sent to the drop-off location,” I say, unease curling around my ribs. I have no idea what occurred in our absence, but the fact Father isn’t touching on the subject of Reaper killing one of his soldiers makes me uneasy.
“The girl—”
“Delilah,” Breaker cuts in.
Fallon waves his hand, brushing away Breaker’s words.
“I forget you all have feelings for her.” Another smirk plays on his lips as he stands and rounds the desk, eyeing Reaper, who’s sprawled out in that arrogant way that makes him both so appealing and so punchable.
“Why you four are so enamored with her, I’ll never understand. Frankly, it’s disturbing.”