“The hotel? Where I was?” I question, as I plop into his lap. He needs to talk, but he needs me there too. He wraps his arms around me gratefully, his head pressing to mine.
“One in the same, love, it’s ours, I wanted it to rot.” He kisses me then softly, so softly. “He went there to kill him, to save me. But when he got to my father, he couldn’t do it. He’s a lover, and the first time you pull the trigger is hard, love, and on our own father? Impossible for Kenzo. He saw the good in everyone and loved them, even when they didn’t deserve it, still does.”
“Hey,” I protest, and he smiles.
“Not you, Roxxane. If anyone in this world deserves love, it’s you and him, but Garrett, D, and me? Not so much.”
I shake my head, but he covers my mouth. “Let me talk, okay? I woke up, and when I saw my gun was missing, I knew. He had been acting weird all day, and I just knew, love. I’ve never been so scared. I knew my dad would kill him, and by the time I got there, Kenzo was bleeding, on death’s door. I took the gun from him—”
“You killed him,” I mumble against his hand.
“I killed him, shot him in the head, then unloaded the clip on him.” He winces then. “And I felt nothing, nothing, love. Not even joy, it was just something that needed to be done. I helped Kenzo up, and we just stood over him. All our lives, he had been a tyrant, such a big, strong man. All that power and money, and in the end, all it did was sign his death warrant. He looked so weak, so small. It was easy to do, kill, easier to take over his business and destroy it. It was when I was in my element, destroying things, while Kenzo was the builder.” He sucks in a breath, and I push closer, offering him comfort as he unloads all the weight pulling him down.
“He pulled this family together. I think he did it for me, to try and keep me anchored because he saw it too—my ability to destroy, my potential to be worse than my father, and he was trying to stop it, and it worked, love, for so long. It grounded me, but then you came—” He shakes his head again, his eyes lighting up and his lips curling. “Like a fucking hurricane. You shook up my world. I knew you would when I saw you, but I just couldn’t walk away. There’s an innocence to you. I know you’ve seen the shit life has to offer, but you still smile, still laugh. I craved it, wanted to make it mine and…and destroy it. But I didn’t count on your fucking will. You wrapped me—us, around your fingers so easily. I would do anything for you, love, be anything you needed, and that terrified me because that same power, those same demons who made my dad him are in me, and you have to deal with them all. Because I can’t let you go, not ever.”
My heart cracks at his words. Ryder, God, my poor Ryder. So worried all the time. No wonder that ice is there, it keeps him and everyone around him safe from the fire within. D uses it, Kenzo blocks it, Garret unleashes it, but Ry? Ry lives in it.
“That makes me a bastard, I know, but when you are in my arms, I feel invincible. I feel so fucking strong, like I could do anything. You make me like that. You make me stronger, and because of that, you have to deal with the consequences…”
Pushing his hand away, I kiss him hard. “And I’ll gladly take them. Ryder, you’re stronger than you know, so fucking strong. Why do you think I stayed? Even when I first came, I didn’t really try to escape and never really knew why. Maybe it’s because I knew this was where I belonged. In your arms. So you have demons? Baby, they match mine. We can do this together, but no more icing us out. We are family. They won’t judge you, just like you don’t judge them. It’s time to let go, Ryder, let the ghosts die with that hotel, because you have so much more to live for now. And I will remind you every fucking day if you need me to. I will take it all, every bit of anger and destruction. Paint it across my skin, I’ll wear it gladly. I’m yours, Ryder, and you’re mine.”
He searches my eyes. “Promise?”
It’s a child’s word on a man’s lips, a man who lost everything for so long. Who was never taught love or kindness. We are learning together. Words might not always be loving, no, sometimes they are downright venomous. Poison on our lips like fire pouring from our souls, but they are always true. “Promise,” I whisper.
He groans, closing his eyes for a moment. “I fucking love you, Roxxane, even when you’re being a brat.”
I can’t help but laugh at that. “Don’t worry, I still hate you.”
He grins, his eyes flaring open as he circles my neck with his hand, those long, elegant, scarred fingers anchoring me to him. “Is that right?” he murmurs, his gaze flashing dangerously, and it’s a testament to how fucked up I am that my pussy clenches at that one look. “I bet I can make you scream ‘I love you’ for everyone to hear.”
“Doubt it, buddy.” I snort, even as I lean into him, ripping my hand down his shirt. The buttons pop off, leaving his chest bare for my hungry gaze, his collage of tattoos almost blinding me. He’s a work of art, and he fucking knows it.
A goddamn painting in motion. His soul is as dark as his ink, and his eyes are as cold as the society he swims in, yet I crave him. His brand of pain and love. I ache whenever I look at him. He’s too fucking much, yet he’s all mine.
He can be cruel and callous. His hands and tongue a weapon. He can take me down, break me and destroy me as easily as he can have me screaming in pleasure. It’s a double-edged sword with each of the Viper boys. They love as deeply as they hate.
They hurt as much as they breathe, and I am in the middle of all of that, with all of their eyes and attention on me. If I’m not careful, they could kill me as easily as they love me. I stole their hearts, and they stole mine.
They keep it safe in their blood-soaked palms, and when Ryder strokes his hands down to my arse and squeezes, I moan wantonly. Such pain, such death they leave in their paths. These hands belong to killers.
Sinners.
Vipers.
But I want them all the same. I want their bite, I want their particular brand of venom coursing through my veins, remaking me into their girl. Every touch, every look is a balm into the soul of a girl who was never loved properly.
One day, it might consume us all and we might explode. But what a beautiful death it would be.
“Ry,” I beg, dragging my nails down his chest, cutting his skin and leaving my mark, giving as good as I get. They love me because of this, because I am capable of the same blood and destruction, hate and torment, because they live in the shadows and so do I.
“Scared, love?” he murmurs, almost pressing his lips to mine. His breath is minty with a hint of scotch, wafting over me as I wiggle on his lap, feeling his cock harden against me.