Page 7 of Viper

Chapter 3

Cora

Self-pitydoesn’tfitme.It’s an ill-fitting suit, wrapping around me too tightly. It always feels unwarranted because I am, after all, the cause of my demise. I helped create the rules and never told a soul. I’m the master of my fate as was the one who decided to manipulate Rune’s hatred, trying to shape him by being compliant.

But when you try to force affection by being at their service—behaving sweetly, more compliant, more usable and abusable—love never blooms. Something else forms. A dark, twisted power imbalance, and they just take and take and take until there’s nothing left.

But Rune hasn’t taken every ounce of me yet.

I refuse to let him.

I prop myself up in bed and gaze around Breaker’s room, taking in the tidy space. It’s just like him. So neat and orderly. I want to sink back into the scent of him, his warm covers, and soft pillows, but I can’t sleep.

I’m too full. Too empty.

Too fucking done.

I’ve spent the last hour turning the entire situation over and over in my head and deep in my gut I know what I have to do.

God, he’s going to be pissed. They both are.

But there are no other options.

Just the thought of my plan sends an oily sensation through me. I rake my nails down my arms, trying to rid myself of Rune’s lingering touch, but it’s a stain I’ll never fully scrub away. As much as I want to hide here forever, I have to move forward and attempt to reduce the casualties Rune leaves in his wake. Clyde saw what happened. If Rune finds out Clyde now knows what he did to me, it will put a target on Clyde’s back, and I’ll lose the only man who’s ever really loved me the way a father should. Completely. Without question. Without strings.

Reaper’s face flashes in my mind.

I need you to trust me.

Reaper sent me back because he had no choice. I know how it feels to be so trapped, so not in control of your own destiny, that when he asked me to trust him, to wait, to be what he needed. While I don’t know what they have planned for Delly, I do know what Reaper needs me to do.

So I will be what he needs.

His eyes and ears.

My mind made up, I toss back the blankets and stand on shaky legs. Nausea rolls through my stomach as I touch my forehead, then my cheek, finding tender spots where I know bruises will bloom. Still in my jeans and t-shirt from earlier, I ignore the crawling under my skin and scan the room, spotting my shoes and wristlet by the door. I rush for them and slide my shoes on, then dig out my phone and stuff my ID and a few credit cards into my bra. The less I have to carry, the better.

My phone is off, and I almost power it on, but Clyde’s warning about Rune tracking me flashes through my mind. I keep it turned off and shove it in my back pocket. I don’t know how any of that works, but if Clyde turned it off, then that must mean Rune can only see my location when it’s on.

At the door, I press my ear against it, listening. When I hear nothing I open it a crack, half-expecting Breaker to be guarding the door, but the hallway is empty. I slip out, then tiptoe down the catwalk. Below, the first floor sits dark and vacant, the only light the Christmas lights wrapped around the support poles.

When I hear muffled voices drifting down from above, I glance up to the top floor where they keep the surveillance equipment. Clyde and Breaker must be up there talking, which works well for me. They’re probably watching Rune on all those cameras.

Cameras that they have set up at Rune’s and my condo.

I’ll deal with that when the time comes.

Pulse racing, I inch down the stairs and stop on the bottom step. When no one appears, I rush toward the factory’s front door, then stop. I need time. More time than I have. With a quick glance back up to the third floor, I backtrack and sneak into the bathroom where Breaker and I bathed yesterday.

God, was all this really just a day ago?

I bolt to the first stall and turn the knob. Water explodes from the pipes with a metallic groan. My heart slams into my chest, and I dart to the door, opening it just enough to make sure neither of them came downstairs, drawn by the noise.

Hopefully the shower will buy me some time.

Waiting a heartbeat, I ease the bathroom door closed, and creep to the metal exit door, eyes fixed on the top floor stairwell, bracing for Breaker or Clyde to appear. Before I can second-guess my decision, I unlock the latch, and ease the door open,stepping out into the cool night air. Several large floodlights illuminate the empty parking lot around the building. Beyond that, it’s just shadowy night.

The level of surveillance I saw upstairs tells me this place must have cameras so I scan the lot and building. Spotting none, I hug the wall as I make my way toward the front of the factory, and peer around the corner. Clyde’s SUV sits by the bay door, and I debate checking it for keys, but realize I don’t have the code to open the gate.