Breaker (Unmasked #3)

9. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Cora

B etrayal sits bitterly on my tongue. Like the sour cum of a man who lives off lies, sex, and greed, and the only sweet thing he’s ever consumed was my innocence.

Bitter like Rune.

Time flies by like someone hit fast forward, images flashing before me, but there are no sounds. Just the thump, thump, thumping pulse of the chopper blades in my head like a heartbeat. The man sitting across from me wears an all-black uniform much like the boys. He’s the one who shoved me into the chopper, then buckled me in as we took off. I scowl at him, keeping my arms crossed. He’s watching my every move, like he’s worried I’m going to start kicking and screaming. Try to open the chopper door and jump.

Fool. I know when to fight, and when to admit defeat.

“Why didn’t you let me say goodbye?” I ask him, but he can’t hear me over the roar. He should have let me say goodbye. That’s all I wanted to do. Wrap my arms around her one last time.

The chopper lands and I’m shoved out the door by the large man. Clyde’s sweet face appears, and I notice how his brows pinch when he sees me, but then his features smooth out, putting his mask in place. I wonder if he realizes everyone sees that he’s not as cold and hard as he portrays, but the thought’s cut off as he grips my arm and tugs me toward Rune’s jet.

I barely have time to register that Rune’s not here before I’m placed in a seat. Guess he can’t be bothered to retrieve his fuck toy. Once I’m buckled in, we take off. Clyde doesn’t speak to me the entire flight. He doesn’t ask if I’m okay or offer me water. He sits staring out the little window while the jet careens toward home, so I do the same.

Not that I feel like talking.

My heart’s too busy breaking.

When we land, he grabs me by the arm again, and we exit the jet. Rune’s here this time and my stomach sinks when I see his stern expression, blue eyes fixed on me with a steely gaze.

A mistrusting glare.

No one says a word as we drive to his mansion. We weave through traffic, streetlights flashing through the car like a strobe light. The driver, Conner, occasionally looks at me in the rearview and I wonder what he’s overheard.

That I’ve been returned.

That Rune’s enemies took me and held me for three weeks. God knows what sort of stories the staff have come up with, whispering late at night amongst themselves. No doubt about how I’ve been violated. Beaten. Broken. It’s no wonder he keeps looking at me in the rearview.

Little does he know Rune did that to me long ago.

Conner’s eyes meet mine again but flash away, back to the road.

If only I could tell them the truth. It’s far juicier than the horrors he could imagine.

I let them fuck me. Craved it. And I miss them like I miss a limb and I’ve only been gone a few hours.

Someone’s phone rings loudly and I’m snapped out of my thoughts. The phone rings again, but I block out the sound of Clyde and Rune’s hushed conversations. The constant tapping of fingers hitting screens fills the quiet car, then the pop indicator of incoming messages. Clyde tells Conner something that makes him look at me again. Then the house I grew up in appears, a modern monstrosity on the waterfront. Clyde grips my arm, dragging me from the vehicle, and we move inside.

It all goes by in a blur, and I snap to focus the second Rune says, “Did they touch you?”

I blink, slapped into the present, reality breaking through the haze as I realize this is the first time anyone has spoken to me since I was shoved into the helicopter. It’s just been business, a simple transaction of handing me over, no one caring that my heart is cracking open every time I try to breathe.

That I was forced to leave my best friend behind so I could be here.

Alone.

With a predator.

Rune leans forward in his plush wingback chair, fingers steepling like he always does when he’s thinking too hard. His suit’s a little rumbled, and his tie is askew. I feel his hard gaze moving like thick oil down my body. Peeling my eyes from the red and gold oriental rug centered in his large opulent office, I meet his blue eyes and my chest squeezes.

Delly got his eyes, not her mother’s. But she got nothing else from him. She’s beautiful and kind and—

“Answer me.”

I lick my lips, my mouth suddenly too dry to speak, and shake my head. “No.”

“No?” Rune’s voice is too harsh. Too cold.

Too knowing .

He bolts up from his seat, stalking toward me, and grips my chin, forcing me to look up at him. Something dangerous swirls in his eyes, and I know I need to tread lightly.

“She said no, Rune,” Clyde says from behind me, and I realize he’s standing by my chair.

Rune doesn’t hear him, or chooses not to, and his grip tightens as he pulls me from my seat, eyes never leaving mine. Something he sees in my face as I stand makes that dangerous gleam grow darker, more sinister.

“Which one?” he asks, and my stomach flips.

My mind races, trying to figure out how he knows, but then I remember when they took us Reaper announced to the entire lobby he’d fucked Delly. After we were taken, Rune no doubt watched the security footage after someone reported we were in his club. Hell, they sent us fucking flowers afterwards, no doubt causing even more gossip.

It must have chewed Rune inside out, knowing they’d had us before they took us. That we’d gone so willingly with them to his private VIP room, wanting to please and be pleased. I’d almost admire their viciousness if I wasn’t the one standing here, suffering the consequences.

And suffer I’m about to if I’m not careful.

The mouth I’ve come to know so well curls into a sneer. “Which one did you fuck?”

One? I’d laugh if I wasn’t so scared.

“Papa,” I start, as Rune inches in closer, barely a breath between us. His intense glare, eyes never leaving mine, makes my heart stutter. “We didn’t know who they were that night.”

His jaw pops, hands dropping to fists at his side. He’s still so close, so in my face, I can smell his familiar smokey cologne and the hint of whisky on his breath. “You two went with four strange men into that room. Did you even get their names?”

I glance at Clyde for help. Stupid me. His own features harden. Clyde’s just as pissed that Delly and I went off with four men and didn’t tell a soul.

My cheeks heat, not just from embarrassment that Rune and Clyde know we went so wild that night, but from the thought that his staff knows. “We just gave them nicknames, and that was it.”

“Jesus Christ, girl,” Clyde snarls. “You know how dangerous that was? We taught you both better than that.”

I take a deep breath, daring a look back at Rune.

His throat moves as he swallows, the salt and pepper stubble glistening in the dim light . He’s so tense, I don’t trust that he won’t explode into a fit of rage, even though Clyde’s here.

“And they didn’t touch you again?” he asks. “After that night?”

God, he’s losing his mind at the mere thought the men violated us. Maybe he’s more concerned for Delly since he knows what vile things men are capable of. He does them to me all the time.

“Those men, they didn’t…” Blue eyes move down the front of my dress. He touches the blue buttons, letting his hand trail down each one until he reaches my stomach. Then he grips the material of the sweater, feeling the soft fabric, running his thumb over the tightly knit threads. His eyes drop to my socked feet, then move slowly back up my body, taking in the cream dress with delicate blue flowers embroidered along the hem.

The violent churning in his eyes intensifies, shadows swirling within them, freezing my blood. Fury pours from him, like he can see all the places they touched. As if their hands left a pattern on my skin detailing all the lascivious things done to me, my body imprinted with fingerprints and kisses, revealing all the places they’ve been. How I’ve been cared for, given affection. How I’ve fucked not just one of them, but three of them, and his daughter as well.

When his gaze moves up to my face, I swear he can see their promises. The way his face turns hard tells me he can see the heartbreak, too. I just hope he thinks it’s from being separated from Delly and not the slivers of pain that were stabbed through my heart when I was handed over to a man with silver hair that scared me far more than Rune ever has.

But he will come and get me.

Reaper promised he’d never let me go. That they would always come for me, and I have to believe this, or I’ll go insane. Because I don’t know what Rune will do now that he thinks they’ve had me. Stained me. Perverted my body and maybe even my mind against him.

He leans in, breath hitting my face like acid. “If you spread your legs for them in my club, you’d do it again.”

He may as well have slapped me with how harsh his words sting.

“Rune,” Clyde growls, stepping close but stops when Rune casts him lethal glare. Clyde clears his throat and says, “She’s been traumatized, and she’s—“

Rune grips my arms, tugging me forward so roughly that I crash into his chest. With a deadly gleam in his eyes, he says, “Was it the big one? Did you fuck him?”

I’m released and shoved away like I’m too tainted to touch a second longer.

“No, Papa,” I say, knowing he means Reaper. The man who, in his eyes, violated his daughter in his place of business.

Rune backs away, running fingers through his hair, gripping it at the roots, pacing in short, rigid steps in front of me.

“Leave her alone, Rune,” Clyde says from behind me. “Who she’s slept with and when are none of your concern.”

I stifle a laugh. Poor Clyde. He has no idea.

“They are sick,” Rune says, more to himself. “Those men are sick. Murderers. And they fucking violated my daughter!”

I swallow, tasting the bitterness. Daughter, not daughters. Then again, I’m not his blood. I’m his whore.

Rune rocks his head back and forth, rolling his shoulders, trying to keep himself in check.

Don’t want to let Clyde see what you really are , I think.

“Those men do atrocious things,” Rune growls, resuming his pacing. “They’ve been trained to be killers.”

“You know them?” I ask, eyeing Rune. He pauses, slowly pivoting to face me. “You know the men who took us?”

He glances at Clyde. Unease settles in my stomach, realizing he knows them. Rune knows the men, and they know him. I was right. It’s more than pride or money that made Rune kill their brother. It’s personal.

The realization hits like a punch to the gut. That’s why they never came for us. They didn’t know where we were, but they knew who had us. I can’t help but wonder if he knows more about them than I do. If he knows the silver-haired man who took me. With the way he’s acting, he has to.

“Was he there?” Rune asks. “Their father?”

My heart thunders, picturing the man Reaper handed me over to. “I only saw him once. Who is he?”

Rune’s features turn to ice. “What did he say to you? Did he touch you?”

“Nothing. And no, he never touched me.”

Rune releases a strange, choked sound. Relief? I can’t tell.

“Where did they keep you?” Clyde asks, derailing Rune from his line of questioning.

Thank god I don’t have to lie anymore. “I don’t know where we were. They put us in a room. We barely saw them.”

“What do you mean?” Clyde asks. “Tell us everything.”

The best lies are the ones closest to the truth. I suck in a breath, closing my eyes like I’m too scared, too traumatized to talk about it. Part of that is true. I may not be traumatized, but I sure is shit am scared.

“They kept us apart,” I say shakily as I open my eyes. Rune’s own narrow and fear slithers through my belly. I don’t know what he knows. They’ve obviously had some sort of communication. At least enough to send word that I was coming back and where to meet to gather me. “For over a week, I think. They gave me food three times a day. I counted how many times, and it added up to nine days.”

“Who?” Rune barks. “The big one?”

He’s really fucking obsessed with Reaper.

I lick my lips and shake my head. “The other three, I barely saw the other one. The big one.” He glances again at Clyde, and I wish I could decipher his expression. I shoot a quick look at Clyde, but he’s watching Rune, not me. “Then they put me and Delly in a room together and they just fed us, and we rarely saw them.”

“What did they say?” Clyde asks. “Did they say anything?”

“They didn’t talk to us.”

Rune’s face hardens again. “They really told you nothing? None of them said anything about me?” he asks, a dark glint clouding the blue of his eyes.

“No Papa, nothing.” At least that’s not a complete lie. Outside of what Viper told me about Rune killing their brother, I genuinely know nothing. It’s not a surprise Rune ordered someone killed. He has often. Delly’s good at pretending not to see things, but I take it all in. “They just said when they took us it was for revenge.”

My words seem to set his teeth on edge, and he leans forward slightly, pinning me with a glare.

“The big one.” Rune steps forward like if he invades my space, it’ll force the answers he wants to spill from my lips. “The big one said that, right?”

I nod, realizing he may know them, but he doesn’t know who they are. Just what they are.

But he knows the man with the terrifying glare. Their father. Rune knows exactly who he is. That day in the lobby, Rune asked if he sent them. He must have been referring to their father, the man Rune feared had come for us. And he did, sending four men to take us from Rune for killing his son.

“Answer me, Cora,” Rune growls.

“When they took us from the lobby,” I confirm.

His throat moves as he swallows. “The night before…” his voice trails off, teeth gnashing together in rage. He can’t stand the thought of Reaper touching Delilah.

There’s a part of me that likes the thought of him thinking Reaper is a rapist like him. But they aren’t. They are murderers, yes. They’re kidnappers, too, using Delilah to seek revenge, and I want desperately to get back to them, so I have to convince Rune to trust me.

“The big one who took you, the one who killed Manuel. He never once spoke to you?” Rune asks, keeping his eyes focused on my face. “None of the others? They never once said anything to you about why you were there?”

I shake my head, not liking how he licks his lips or how he unfurls his fingers, stretching them out as he leans back on his heels. Like he’s trying to keep his violence in check. I know it’s only because Clyde is here. If he wasn’t around, Rune would be less nice with his line of questioning.

There’s something about these men, these four, that has him on the verge of madness. Rune may have killed their brother, but I’m thinking he may fear them. I wonder how long ago he ordered their brother killed. Months?

“That’s all I know, Papa.”

His head tics to the side and my heart punches against my ribcage. He knows I’m lying.

Instead of arguing or drilling me with more questions, Rune stalks in close again, gripping my cheeks with one hand and turning my face side to side, pulling the sweater down and brushing my hair back to look at my neck. Looking for signs I’ve been violated or hurt, maybe.

No, not hurt. He cares they’ve touched what he thinks is his.

But he’s never said a word before. Not when I went on dates. Not when I know someone reported to him I went home with not one, but two men.

I bite my lip, keeping still as he tugs at my clothes, pulling my sweater off to look at my arms, my fingers. Runs the pad of his thumb over the blue veins in my wrist. He drops to his knees, and lifts my dress, looking at my claves. When he takes my socks off to check my feet, I see it.

The absolute pain in his face mixed with hope.

Hope that if I’m not harmed, Delly isn’t either.

My chest squeezes and the tears start.

“Papa,” I whisper, touching his jaw.

He looks up at me, and his blue eyes meet mine. God, how I wish he loved me like loves her. I swallow the knowledge he never will, not really. He loves what I provide for him. He loves me in some fucked up way a man should never love a woman, much less the girl he raised. I have to accept that, because I’ll forever break my heart if I don’t.

“They haven’t hurt her,” I tell him, touching his cheek. I only do because I know it will stop the madness I see contorting his face from unleashing onto me. “We barely saw them.”

His features seem to fracture, like my words stabbed through his hard facade, creating fissures of pain. I blink back tears. From his place on the floor, kneeling before me, he’s just a simple, weak man.

I’ve seen him weak so many times it shouldn’t bother me like it does. Because it’s weakness that makes him hurt me. Weakness that he allows himself to be so hateful.

“He’s here,” Clyde says quietly from next to me.

Rune sucks in air, then stands, gripping my hand and bringing it to his mouth. His soft, warm lips that have been places a father’s mouth should never touch, brush my skin. My mind wants to interpret the gesture as loving, maybe even fatherly, but it’s mixed up with something a lover would do, and a slithering sensation moves through my gut.

He doesn’t love me. He never has, I tell myself, yet again.

I am my mother’s daughter.

Rune’s features shift yet again and he shuts a down all emotions, slamming it all behind a solid wall of disdain. He grips my hand. “Come,” Rune says as he guides me from his office. “Let’s get you upstairs.”

My chest squeezes, like it does when he leads me anywhere private. Clyde follows us to the foyer, stopping at the foot of the stairs as Rune leads me up to the second floor.

“I don’t want to stay here,” I say. “I want to go home.”

Rune grips my hand, “You are home, Cora. Where you belong.”