Page 11 of The Sniper (Club Southside #9)

CHAPTER ELEVEN

REYNA

R eyna paced the length of the room, the click of her boots sharp against the hardwood floor. The private chamber inside Club Southside was quiet, cloaked in a kind of intimacy that felt foreign to her in the moment. It was her idea to be here, yet now that she stood in the soft amber glow of the overhead light, her mind raced with second thoughts. She was out of her element, grappling with a betrayal that had cracked her foundation and a case spiraling out of control.

“Reyna.” Daniels’ voice cut through her spiraling thoughts, low and commanding.

She turned, finding him leaning against the door frame, his dark eyes steady. He’d shed his usual tailored jacket, standing in just his crisp shirt with the sleeves rolled to his forearms. The casualness of his posture didn’t hide the strength simmering beneath it, or the way his gaze seemed to strip her down to her barest truths.

“You’re wound too tight,” he said simply, pushing off the wall. “You need to let go, or you’re going to break.”

She crossed her arms, the defensive posture automatic. “Let go? Now? Daniels, in case you haven’t noticed, someone’s out there systematically targeting my team. We’re on a clock, and...”

“Exactly,” he interrupted, his tone unyielding. “And you’re no good to anyone like this.”

Her jaw clenched, but she didn’t argue. He was right, as much as it galled her to admit it. The knot in her chest had been building for days, a suffocating mass of anger, betrayal, and fear. She’d spent years perfecting the art of keeping herself together, but now, the seams were fraying.

Daniels stepped closer, his voice softening. “You trust me, don’t you?”

The question hit her like a jolt, unexpected and loaded. Trust had always been a precarious thing between them, a line they danced around but never fully crossed. Yet here he was, asking for it outright, and for some reason, she couldn’t deny him.

“I do,” she said quietly, the admission feeling heavier than it should.

“Good,” he said, his voice steady. “Then let me help you.”

Reyna’s breath hitched as he stepped behind her, the heat of his presence brushing against her back. His hands rested lightly on her shoulders, his touch firm but careful, like he was testing her boundaries. “Breathe,” he murmured, his tone low and soothing. “In through your nose, out through your mouth.”

She obeyed, her breaths shaky at first but gradually evening out under his guidance. His hands moved to her arms, sliding down until his fingers encircled her wrists. He brought them forward, crossing them in front of her body.

“Let me take the lead,” he said, his voice a quiet command.

The words sent a ripple through her, a mix of fear and relief that left her raw. She nodded, her pulse quickening as she surrendered control, something she rarely allowed herself to do. Daniels carefully removed all of her clothing save her bra and panties. He guided her to the center of the room, his movements deliberate and unhurried. He reached for the silk ropes on the nearby table, his hands deft as he began weaving them around her wrists. The cool, smooth cord slid across her skin, and with each loop, she felt the knot in her chest loosen, replaced by a strange, calming weightlessness.

“You’re safe,” he said softly. “I’ve got you.”

She closed her eyes, letting the words settle over her. For the first time in days, the storm inside her quieted. The betrayal, the uncertainty, the fear—it all faded into the background as she focused on the rhythm of his touch and the steady cadence of his voice.

Daniels worked quickly, the ropes binding her wrists and arms with precision, creating a harness that crisscrossed her torso. He stepped back to admire his work, his gaze lingering on her for a moment before meeting her eyes.

“How do you feel?” he asked, his voice softer now.

“Like I can breathe again,” she admitted, the words surprising even herself.

“Good,” he said, his lips curving into a faint smile. “Because we’re not done yet.”

He reached for his kit, which had been conveniently put in the room. When she found out who’d done it, she’d have to remember to thank him. The violet wand hummed softly as he turned it on. Reyna’s breath caught as the faint, crackling sound of electricity filled the air. Daniels stepped closer, his movements deliberate as he ran his fingers down her arm.

“This is about trust,” he said, his tone serious. “If you want me to stop, say the word.”

“I won’t,” she said, her voice steady despite the flutter of nerves in her chest.

Daniels nodded, holding her gaze as he brought the wand closer. The first touch was light, a faint buzz against her skin that sent a shiver racing down her spine. He moved it slowly, tracing the patterns of the rope with precision, the sensation a mix of heat and sparks that left her breathless.

“Good girl,” he murmured, the words low and intimate.

Reyna’s cheeks flushed, but she didn’t look away. She held his gaze, letting herself sink into the moment, into him. For the first time in days, she felt like she wasn’t fighting to hold herself together. She was just... being.

Daniels continued his work, the wand dancing over her skin in a pattern that was both deliberate and teasing. He watched her closely, his gaze dark and unreadable, and she realized with a start that this wasn’t just about her. It was about him, too. About the trust they were building, the connection they were discovering.

When he finally set the wand aside, she felt like she’d been stripped bare, not physically, but emotionally. Daniels stepped closer, his hands brushing against her arms as he began untying the ropes. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, as he worked, and when the last knot came undone, he pulled her into his arms without hesitation. She leaned into him, her cheek resting against his chest as his arms wrapped around her. For the first time in days, she felt like she wasn’t drowning.

When they finally pulled apart, the moment lingered between them, heavy and unspoken. Daniels reached for the stack of files on the nearby table, his expression hardening as he flipped through the pages.

“We need to talk about the killer,” he said, his voice all business now. “I think we’ve been looking at this the wrong way.”

Reyna straightened, her focus sharpening. “What do you mean?”

Daniels held up a file, the photo of a man staring back at them. “The motive isn’t just revenge against Cerberus. It’s personal. Every target has a connection to a specific mission. Something we did years ago.”

Reyna frowned, the pieces started to click into place. “The operation in Berlin. We dismantled that trafficking ring, but we didn’t get everyone.”

Daniels nodded. “And the ones who got away have been waiting for their moment. This isn’t just about Cerberus. It’s about sending a message. Making us pay for what we did.”

Reyna’s stomach churned, but she pushed the emotion aside. “Who’s the next target?”

Daniels hesitated, then handed her the file. Reyna’s breath caught as she stared at the photo. It was Caro standing with a man who seemed somewhat familiar.

“We need to move,” she said, her voice steady despite the storm brewing inside her. “If they’re targeting her, we don’t have much time.”

Daniels nodded, “We need a plan. Let’s go.”

As they left the room, the weight of the moment settled over them, heavy and undeniable. They were running out of time, and the killer was always one step ahead. But as Reyna glanced at Daniels, his jaw set with determination, she felt a flicker of hope.

They weren’t just fighting for their team. They were fighting for each other.

And they weren’t going to stop until the killer was caught.

Reyna stood in the dimly lit Cerberus conference room, the silence as oppressive as that of an impending storm. Her hands rested on the edge of the long conference table, her knuckles white from the force of her grip. Spread out before her were dossiers, surveillance photos, and detailed mission reports. Every file represented someone she trusted—someone who might have betrayed her.

Her stomach twisted as she stared at the list of names. These weren’t just colleagues. They were her family, her team. People she’d fought beside, bled with. And now, one of them had turned on her. The thought threatened to crack her calm veneer, but she refused to let it show.

“Reyna.” Daniels’ deep voice cut through the room as he stepped in, the door clicking shut behind him. His gaze moved over her, assessing as always, like he could see past the mask she so carefully wore.

She didn’t look up. “If you’re here to tell me to take a breath, don’t. I don’t have time to fall apart right now.”

“I wasn’t planning to,” he said simply, crossing the room to stand beside her. His proximity was comforting, even if she wouldn’t admit it.

She straightened and turned to him, arms crossed over her chest. “Do you know how many people I’ve vouched for? How many times I’ve told myself Cerberus was untouchable?” Her voice cracked slightly, and she hated herself for it. “I didn’t think it was possible for someone else…”

“Someone else?”

She nodded. “We had a mole. We smoked him out, but now… how many more could there be? This is my team…”

“I get it; the informant might not be Cerberus. It could be someone in the Club, or someone at the Bureau for that matter,” Daniels finished, his tone low but firm. “Reyna, this isn’t on you.”

Her laugh was humorless, sharp. “Isn’t it? I’m supposed to know these people to be able to count on them. I hope to hell it is a leak in the Bureau, but my gut tells me someone inside Cerberus is working with the same psycho that’s targeting us.”

“You couldn’t have known,” he said, his gaze steady. “No one could’ve.”

Reyna shook her head, pacing away from him. “That’s the thing, though. I should’ve known. I should’ve seen it.”

Daniels caught her arm gently, stopping her mid-stride. His touch was firm, steadying. “You’re not a psychic; nor are you omnipotent. You’re human just like the rest of us. Even the best operatives miss things.”

She stiffened under his grip but didn’t pull away. For a moment, they stood there, his eyes locked onto hers, the air between them heavy with something unspoken.

“I don’t want your comfort,” she said, but her voice lacked its usual sharpness.

“It’s not comfort; it’s a reality check,” he replied. His thumb brushed against her arm, a small gesture that made her chest tighten.

Before she could respond, the intercom crackled to life, Caro’s voice cutting through. “Reyna, we’ve got a situation in the interrogation room. You’re going to want to see this.”

Reyna jerked away, her instincts snapping into place. “What now?”

Daniels followed her as she strode out of the conference room, her steps quick and purposeful. The corridors of the Cerberus facility were lined with sleek, minimalist finishes, but right now, it felt like the walls were closing in.

When they entered the interrogation room, Reyna froze. Mitch sat at the table, his usually laid-back demeanor replaced with something she could only describe as haunted. Across from him sat Julius Fowler, his expression unreadable.

Reyna’s pulse spiked. Julius had been an operative with Cerberus years ago—a damn good one—before he’d gone rogue and disappeared. Seeing him here, looking so calm, so self-assured, sent a bolt of anger surging through her.

“Julius,” she said, her voice cold. “I should’ve guessed.”

He looked up at her, a faint flicker of amusement in his eyes. “Reyna. It’s been a while.”

Daniels stepped forward, his presence filling the room like a dark storm cloud. “What the hell is he doing here?”

“I brought myself in,” Julius said, leaning back in his chair. “Figured it was only a matter of time before you came looking for me.”

“Cut the crap,” Reyna snapped, slamming her hands on the table. “You’ve been gone for years, and now, suddenly, you show up in the middle of this shitstorm? Start talking.”

Julius’s gaze flicked to Daniels, then back to Reyna. “I didn’t betray Cerberus. But I think I know who did. And I think I know why.”

Reyna’s breath caught, but she didn’t let it show. “Then start talking, Julius, because I’m this close to throwing you in a dark hole and never letting you see the sun again.”

He chuckled, low and bitter. “Still the firecracker, huh? Fine. But you’re not going to like what I have to say.”

“Try me.”

Julius leaned forward, his expression darkening. “Your mole isn’t just working for the killer. They’re working to dismantle Cerberus from the inside out. Veda wasn’t just a random target. She had dirt on people—important people. People who would do anything to keep their secrets buried.”

Reyna’s stomach churned, but she kept her face neutral. “What kind of dirt?”

“Blackmail,” Julius said simply. “Veda wasn’t just a Domme. She was a collector. And she had leverage on more than a few high-profile players in the scene, some of whom have ties to Cerberus. When she got too close to exposing the wrong person, she became expendable.”

Reyna felt the room tilt slightly, but she planted her feet, forcing herself to stay steady. “Who?”

Julius hesitated, his gaze shifting to Daniels. “You might want to ask your FBI boy here. I’m guessing he knows more than he’s letting on.”

Reyna’s eyes snapped to Daniels, who didn’t flinch under the accusation. “He’s not the problem,” she said sharply. “You are.”

“Reyna,” Daniels said, his voice calm but firm. “Let him finish.”

Julius’s lips curved into a small smile, one that made Reyna want to punch him. “Smart man. Anyway, your mole cannot be just a random operative. It has to be someone close. Someone who’s been feeding information to the killer for months.”

“And you know this how?” Reyna demanded.

“Because I used to work with them,” Julius said, his tone laced with regret. “Before I left. Before I realized just how far they were willing to go.”

The room fell into a heavy silence, the weight of Julius’s words settling over them like a storm cloud. Reyna stared at him, her mind racing.

“If you’re lying...”

“I’m not,” Julius interrupted, his voice firm. “You know me, Reyna. I don’t play games like this.”

She wanted to argue, wanted to tear him apart for everything he’d put her team through, but the look in his eyes stopped her. He wasn’t lying.

“Who is it?” she asked finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

Julius hesitated, then leaned closer. “I’m not exactly sure, but I do know it’s someone connected with either Cerberus or the club.”

The words hit her like a physical blow, stealing the breath from her lungs. “No. That’s not possible.”

“It is,” Julius said quietly. “And if you don’t stop him or her soon, more people are going to die.”

Reyna staggered and Daniels stepped forward, his hand brushing her shoulder. “Reyna.”

She turned to him, her eyes wide with a vulnerability she couldn’t hide. “I just don’t want to believe it.”

“You don’t have to believe it,” Daniels said, his voice steady. “But we’re going to find out the truth.”

Reyna stared at him, her chest tight. She wanted to believe him, wanted to believe they could fix this, but the betrayal cut too deep.

For a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of them. The anger, the betrayal, the chaos—all of it faded into the background as she met his gaze.

“Okay,” she said finally, her voice shaking but resolute. “We have to stop this. We need to stop whoever it is.”

Daniels nodded, his expression hardening. “Then let’s get to work.”

As they left the room, the shadows of doubt still clinging, Reyna was certain that the worst was yet to come.