“He beat you.” I already knew this. “My father did too.”
I don’t know why I’m telling her this, other than the pain in her eyes as they level on me—the embarrassment and anger there calls to me. It makes me want to tell her, to help her understand that we aren’t so different. I need something stronger for this talk, though, so I turn around and pour us both two fingers of scotch and pass it over. I toss mine back and lean against the worktop, steadying myself by gripping the counter hard. She waits patiently, rolling the glass around in her hands.
“He was a bastard, but I’m guessing you know that by now. He was rich, powerful, and charming. Everyone loved him or wanted to be him. He made his millions by tearing down weaker people and stepping on them. But at home? He was even worse, he was fucking evil. He hated us, especially Kenzo. He thought him weak because he loved, because he laughed. I had to protect my brother. I know he hit him sometimes when I couldn’t save him, but for the most part, I took every blow, every whip, every beating. I stepped between him and my mother, not that it made her love us more. Kenzo always hoped she would take us and leave him, but I knew better. She was weak, which is horrible to say because I did love her, but she was weak. She needed his money to survive, and she would never leave him out of fear. Not even to protect us.”
“Ryder—” She shakes her head, and I smile sadly.
“It is okay, Roxxane. It’s in the past. I’m telling you this because I want you to know it doesn’t matter where you come from—from the dumps or skyscrapers—evil is still evil. We might have bled onto marble floors, but we still bled, and if I could go back, I would do it all again. I would take every thrashing stoically.”
“Why?” she queries, frowning.
I look around. “To be here with my family. I paid a high price, but now it’s all worth it. I’m surrounded by the best brothers, even when I forget sometimes, lost in the numbers and business. I have everything I always wanted.”
“Always?” she mumbles, and I regard her then.
“Always,” I whisper, meaning her as well. The love of a good woman, one strong enough to survive us, to survive me and the monster my father created in me. Placing the teacup aside, I feel the desire to reach for her, but I don’t know how. I’m not as loving as Kenzo, I’ve never even had a relationship. My father ruined it for me with the way he treated my mother…I think the only reason I’m letting Roxxane so close is because I have no choice.
She started as a business deal, one I couldn’t avoid, and now I can’t get her out of my head or my cold heart.
But she gathers that bravery again, slips from the stool, and marches around the counter, only stopping when she’s in my arms. I wrap them tightly around her, wondering how I’ll get her to stay here forever. All thoughts of business fade from my mind as those grinning eyes peer up at me.
How such a small person can hold such strength astounds me. She could have let her abuse and her father break her, she could have stopped fighting. She could have stopped even when we stole her, given in and withered away. Instead, she thrives. Diesel is right—Roxxane lives for danger, for stress and dark times. It’s when she is most herself. I wonder if she knows that. It’s probably why she decided to run Roxers, to feel that hit every night.
The one Diesel finds in flames, Kenzo in gambling, Garrett in fighting…and me in deals, in winning and manipulating people. But I’m the one being manipulated here, and I don’t think she even realises it.
Reaching up, I cup her face, searching those eyes that hold me prisoner. If only my enemies knew that to get us all, to kill us…all they would need to do was take her. Hurt her. It would destroy us.
When the Vipers do something, we do it hard, and Roxxane? She hasn’t been here but a week, yet she is already intertwined with us, so essential to our lives. She has changed us, made us love, and made us angry. Yet here, with her in my arms, is where I finally take a deep breath, my hand shaking against her cheek in fear. What if I am too like my father?
What if I hurt her?
“You are the only one who ever gets to see my hands shake, love,” I murmur, and she smirks.
“Good, don’t let them see it.” She nods, playing the game as well as we. “And no, I don’t think you will hurt me.”
I blink in astonishment, and she laughs. “You’re not the only one who can read people, asshole.”
I laugh then, and she leans into my hand. “You are not your father. I see that worry. You’re so scared you will become him that you haven’t noticed you aren’t being yourself either. Stop fighting it, that inferno inside. Use it. The anger he made, I have the same kind. We are two different sides of a coin. You tried to bury it, I let it build me. Neither is right or wrong, but I know, Ryder, I know you will never hurt me, not physically. I know it. You might with words, you might try to push me away or pretend you don’t want me for the same reason I do, but no, you will never hurt me.”
“How do you know?” I question, truly wondering. I don’t even know myself. Doesn’t my control, my need for her utter submission, mean one day I might take it too far and hurt her?
“Because we have both seen what that does to people, and the idea of doing it to someone else would never cross our minds. Plus, I would never let you. I might not be as strong as you guys or have the money, but I’m a fighter like you said. Survived that way. You will never hurt me because I will never let you. I would kill you, kick your fucking asses if you tried. Diesel might cut my skin or fill me with pain, but it’s my choice. I want that, and I refuse to be ashamed by it. But I always want Kenzo’s smile and soft teasing…and your ice and fire.”
“And Garrett?” I have to ask. She’s right, she’s too strong, not like my mother, she would never let us hurt her. She would kill us first. That thought settles me, and I actually sink into her and relax.
“I want him too,” she admits. “I even told him that, but we’re taking it slow. I won’t ask what happened again. He’ll tell me when he’s ready, and I hope one day, we can work through it.”
“That sounds like the words of someone who plans on staying,” I tease, and she sighs.
“Do I have a choice?” She winks, but I sense real truth in those words, and it makes me harden.
Does she?
Would I—we, let her go, even if she didn’t come back? What I told her was true, she started as a deal, one we planned to use and dispose of. But she’s here now, in us, one of us…but how can she truly be one of us if it isn’t her choice? We all chose this life…but she was forced into it.
The very same way that I was by my father.
“Ryder,” she starts, and I wait, but she bites her lip, probably realising the same thing—there is nothing she can say that wouldn’t be a lie. Yes, she wants us, but how much? Is it because she’s making the most of a bad situation, or does she actually want us?
“I better get back to work,” I murmur, before leaning down and kissing her softly, wishing I knew. I pull away and turn, feeling her staring after me, and I stop at the door. “Your birthday is May seventh, you were born at eight fifty-five am,” I offer, and she sucks in a breath.
“Thank you, Ryder.”
I nod and leave, unable to stay any longer, my thoughts spiralling with worry. I need to speak to my brothers. We have a choice to make. We can keep her, force her to stay, and she might not even hate us for it. But she will never love us, not like we want. How can you love someone who takes away your freedom?
I don’t know, but I also don’t know if we could let her walk away now. Not just because of what she saw and knows, but because the others are attached.
I’m attached.
In the afternoon, I lose myself in work, trying to avoid the questions swirling around my head, until Garrett rings me. Picking up the phone, I hit the green button and lean back in my chair.
“Speak.”
“Well, we have cleared the city. The only people who will be taking the bounty are out of towners or people hired directly by the Triad,” Garrett rumbles into the phone.
“Good, did we figure out anything about the leak?” I inquire, and Diesel snorts.
“He won’t let me play with them,” he whines, making me grin.
“We’re going to head out again tomorrow and get back on it. We cleared a few names. Simply threatening their families and their lives was enough, they didn’t betray us.”
“But someone did,” I snap, and then sigh, drumming my fingers on the table as I think. “It has to be someone who worked here, they wouldn’t know anything otherwise, keep looking.”
“Sure,” Garrett grunts, and then it goes quiet, but he doesn’t hang up. My eyebrow arches in surprise, Garrett isn’t usually chatty.