She clears her throat, and my eyes run up her throat to meet her gaze, which is laughing at me. “Morning, Kenzo said you were working, so I didn’t want to disturb you.”
Passing her the coffee, I lean back against the counter, mentally counting to stop myself from throwing her on the counter and fucking her. Work, Ryder. You have work to do, you have that meeting, you also need to check in on her dad, make sure Kenzo is okay and that Diesel isn’t—
“Do you ever relax?” she asks, tilting her head as she watches me. “I can see your mind working every minute of every day. Do you ever just stop?”
Arching my eyebrow, I sip my tea. “No, I don’t have time.”
She snorts. “Find time. If you’re not careful, you will think yourself into an early grave. Life is so amazing, Ryder, look around you. Look at where you are, what you have at your feet, do you ever enjoy it or just keep on climbing higher? When will it ever be enough?” Her eyes search mine knowingly.
“It isn’t about the money, it’s about keeping my family safe. Giving Diesel a place where he can be himself, and providing Garrett with a home to retreat to and be protected,” I murmur.
“And Kenzo?” she prompts.
“He needs a family, people to care for and love.” I shrug.
“And you?” she presses with a smile.
“Me?” I repeat.
“Yes, Ry, you. What do you need?” she inquires.
I hesitate, and she smiles wider. “I don’t think you have ever thought about that, have you? Too busy being the best, and giving them everything they ever wanted and needed, that you never thought about what you wanted.”
“I want them, my brothers. I want their happiness and safety.” I shrug.
She nods. “I know. I gotta ask, though, how did you meet them?”
“Kenzo is my brother. We met Garrett at one of his fights when he was a professional, we stayed in contact, and when he went underground to earn more money, we started working with him. We ran into Diesel one night when he was chasing someone. He was working as a hired assassin back then, the thing he was good at, but I could see how lost he was in his eyes. It brought us all together. We had the money, our father’s money, and we had plans. Plans that needed more than us, and we just found them one day and became family. Been inseparable ever since,” I explain.
She sips her coffee, moaning, and I shift to adjust my hard cock. “Is Viper your real last name?”
I laugh then, I can’t help it. “No, we took it after my father died. We never wanted his name nor to have any of our success resting on his surname. We took Viper, because when you back a snake into a corner, they are more dangerous than anything. We had all been backed into those corners. By family. By grief. By money. We were all vipers…and now you are too.”
“Me?” she scoffs, shifting, making her shirt gape further.
“You were backed into a corner and came out stronger. This might not be the life you imagined, but you’re making it work, you’re using what you have. You are smart and strong, you’re a Viper,” I insist, leaning towards her, pressing my knuckles to the counter.
She perks up then, almost laughing. “It’s sure as shit better than my father’s name, the rat bastard.”
“Didn’t you change yours to Rich’s last name, the man who owned the bar?” I ask, genuinely curious, since there is only so much you can learn online and from rumours.
“Always researching, huh? Yeah, I did, I did it for his birthday, though it worked for me as well. A final cutoff from my family who did nothing but hurt me. But not him.” She seems sad now, so I reach across and cover her hand. She stares down at it, probably unused to comfort, but she doesn’t pull away. “I suppose you know he died?”
I nod, and she sighs.
“He was a good man, a very good man. He did some bad things in his past, but that never bothered me. My father has a clean record, always seen as charming to others, yet he was a monster. Rich was seen as a monster, but he cared for me more than anyone ever had. He helped me study and finish school, start a life, and have a job and a roof over my head where I could sleep without wondering…”
“Wondering?” I prompt.
“Wondering if I would be woken up by mean hands.” She shrugs, unashamed.
“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.