Page 77 of Viper

“I know,” I snap, then lean forward to say, quietly, “We can go to the fucking club, but if we leave without seeing thattwat, David, you have to suck my dick when we get back to the house.”

Breaker’s expression flattens, telling me I’m pushing him a tad too far, but I can’t help myself. We’ve never been alone this long. I’m not sure either of us knows how to handle not only the things that have been unlocked since we got our girls, us being so open, but also how to handle no one else around. There are eyes everywhere.

I toss my napkin onto the plate and push the chair back. It screams across the shiny gray stone floor. The people at the table next to us look my way, the small woman with bright red lips looking me up and down. Seems if people find you attractive, you can walk through life acting like a total douchebag and they don’t care.

“Come on,” I tell Breaker. “Let’s get this over with so we can go back to the house and fuck.”

The woman chokes on her bite. I give her a wink as I walk past, heading for the elevator.

***

The club pulses with energy. It’s smaller than most of Rune’s clubs, making the place feel packed with too many bodies. Breaker motions to the cocktail waitress assigned to us and orders another round, even though we have an open bottle of champagne sitting on ice in front of us.

Breaker loves this shit. Expensive food, pretty things, edgy clubs and parties. While I enjoy it, the constant noise and pettiness of this life grates on me after a while. I’d rather be home, fixing up our house, getting my hands dirty. Or traveling and experiencing new places. That’s part of why I never complained about moving from one mission to the next with only hours in between sometimes.

I even enjoyed infiltrating Rune’s circle. The pure rush of knowing we were getting one over on that sick fuck makes my blood sing. But now so much is at stake. I just want to be home. Away from it all.

I just want quiet. Mostly, I want our girls and all of us together.

“He’s here,” Breaker says, nudging my shoulder. I follow his gaze to the seating area near ours, and my eyes land on him. Purple flashing lights cast the club in an electric glow and turn his dark suit a bright neon. “Wait for him to come to us.”

“I know how to play the game,” I say, widening my legs, taking up more space on the couch as I toss my arm on the back. Like he can feel our presence, Dave’s eyes move in our direction.Fucking finally. “When he comes over, let me do the talking.”

“Fine by me,” Breaker says, raising his drink in a silent greeting as Dave raises a hand. “We both know you’re better at this than I am.”

Pretending he means. Funny. I’m not really pretending. I give zero fucks about this guy. Actually, I can’t wait to take him out. He’s a pompous ass, worse than Vince, aka me, and the only thing he’s loyal to is Rune’s money and how well it lines his pocket.

He had the absolute nerve to date Delilah, even when she was so out of his league it was comical. Then he didn’t even give her a proper wedding. He just took her to the courthouse. The day they got married, Reaper nearly had a stroke. He paced a path on the top floor of the warehouse for hours and at one point, it took all of us to convince him not to march into the courthouse and murder Dave.

Accidents happen, he’d said.

It will upset her,Striker had reminded him.

He’s a sick bastard, Reaper muttered and continued his pacing.

That he is. Dave doesn’t partake in Rune’s hunts, not entirely, but he attends them, keeping the attendees entertained with drugs, prostitutes, and sick games, knowing full well what happens. He turns a blind eye, cashes his paycheck, and had the nerve to cheat on one of two of the most beautiful women this world has ever seen.

The fucker needs to go.

And I’ll gladly take him out.

Right as the thought passes through my mind, Dave stands and works his way through the small seating area until he’s right in front of us. He leans forward, offering a hand to Breaker first.

Not that I’m surprised. People tend to see Breaker and nothing else. When they see me, it’s one of two reactions. Fear or lust. Sometimes both.

“Ben Snyder,” he says, raising his voice to be heard above the pulsing music. “Nice to see you again.”

Breaker leans forward, lifting his ass off the couch just enough to be respectful, and shakes Dave’s hand. Dave’s eyes land on me, and he quirks a brow as he extends his hand.

“And you must be…” His voice trails off, waiting for me to fill in the blank. I don’t. He knows exactly who I am. After an awkward few seconds, he says, “Vincent Campbell, right? Ben’s partner in crime?”

I let his words hang in the air for a few heartbeats, then adjust my legs, widening them even more. When I don’t take his hand, he lets it fall to his side.

Dave isn’t a bad looking man. He’s classically handsome, each feature a little too sharp, like a hawk. A little sleazy. Perfect lawyer material. I let my gaze trail over him. He squirms a tad which should give me pleasure, but it just scalds my insides. He’s a fucking weasel, undeserving of the memories he has of our girl.

He knows what Delilah tastes like. The sweet, slightly lavender scent of her hair. The sounds she makes when she comes.

I should stab his eyes out for holding that knowledge. Shove a knife into his ear for ever hearing her pretty whimpers.