Breaker (Unmasked #3)

30. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

Breaker

4 years ago, July, Age 24

Y ellow is my favorite color. It’s laughter and sunshine, open-faced hollyhocks and sunflowers bursting with life. Yellow is the color of joy and sun-flooded rooms.

It’s the dress of the woman standing less than one hundred feet away as I watch her from my seat on the bench in the quickly darkening park. But, as much as I love the color yellow, I decide right now that it’s not my favorite anymore.

It’s red.

Like her hair.

I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees as remove my aviators. It’s a risk, but it’s too late in the day to wear them, and since I’m currently watching for our target, I don’t need to draw attention to myself any more than I already am by sitting on a park bench by myself, staring at the tiny redhead.

She’s so beautiful it makes my chest hurt. She’s wearing a bright green hat sporting a bear with a shamrock on its stomach. The hat shadows her face, but it doesn’t hide her features. Her fair skin is nearly flawless, with the exception of a sprinkle of freckles on her nose and cheeks and hair so red it blazes like molten lava in the fading sunlight.

The encrypted message came through just two hours ago. Extract and Hold. That’s all Fallon sent us, along with the target’s name and location. Of course, we already know who our target is. And we know why we’re here. With so few people around, the only joggers or dog walkers, it will be easy to snag the target, and then slip out unnoticed.

Then we wait for further instructions.

A vice clamps around my chest. I breath out a shaky breath, ripping my eyes from the girl with red hair down to my hands, worry making my palms sweat. I’m never nervous during a mission, but fear of what Fallon will want me to do starts to eat at my gut. My skill isn’t clean and precise like Striker’s or quick and lethal like Viper’s.

No. I crack things open, slowly, painfully, until I get what I need.

It doesn’t matter that Rune brought this upon himself, the mere thought that Fallon may want to hurt a young woman as payback, makes my stomach twist grossly.

“Where’s the other one?” Viper asks in my ear, his voice cracking with static through the earbud. “The target?”

I scan the area before fixing my gaze back on the beautiful girl before me. It’s surprising there are so few people in the park. The city lights up the large park every year with hundreds of tiny fairy lights to celebrate the summer solstice. Maybe everyone had their fill a few weekends ago during the lighting ceremony and that’s why there are so few here tonight.

“She’s pulling up now,” Striker says, and static pops noisily from the earbud fitted snuggling in my left ear. I turn my head, leaning back to rest my arm on the back of the bench and tap the earpiece to lower the volume. With a quick glance over to where Striker’s positioned on the rooftop of a small bank near the park, I settle back in my seat, casting a look in Viper’s direction, but I can’t see him. “Coming in through the back exit, Viper. Watch your six.”

“You hitting on me again, Strike?” Viper asks.

“Fuck off,” he says, but we can all hear his laughter. “Target is wearing…” His voice fades. “Fuck, man. I don’t know what that is. But that’s a hell of an outfit.”

“Black hair, right?” Viper says. “Any hats or other markers, Strike? I’m sitting on a fucking bench and can’t see shit.” Then his guttural groan snaps through the earpiece. “Holy shit.”

My head jerks in the direction of where he’s located. Viper and I are the ones Reaper said would extract the target, while he hung back, and Striker kept lookout.

“Hold tight,” Reaper growls in the earpiece. “Do not approach. Goddammit, Viper. Do not fucking engage.”

“Target is coming in from the…Jesus, fuck,” Striker growls. “You’ll see her. She’s got a guard escorting her to the—“

“Got her,” Reaper says, but his words sound slightly strangled.

From the corner of my eye, I finally see Viper, but my back straightens when I see he’s moving in the direction of the girl with fiery hair. Goddammit is right. Viper is hard not to notice.

Like me, he stands out in a crowd.

As much as I want to rush to him and shake him, tell him to go sit back down before he compromises our mission, I keep myself still and dare another glance toward the tiny woman with the green bear hat. She waves and I slowly look to the right and nearly choke on my tongue when I see a flash of pale pink.

Holy shit is right.

“That’s her?” I ask. “Gavin’s daughter?” I drop my hands to my thighs, gripping them as I watch her. She’s a sight to behold.

“That’s not an outfit. That is a pink nightie,” Viper says, and my gaze moves from the Gavin girl over the nearly empty sidewalk, looking for Viper. I still when I see him maybe only fifty feet from her, leaning against a light pole, thumbing through his phone. “It looks like those silky things women wear to bed when they want to fuck.”

Reaper says something unintelligible, then, “It’s a fucking dress, you idiot.”

Dress is being generous. If she bends over, which I’m kind of hoping she does, the entire park will see her panties.

I take a deep breath, telling myself not to be that guy, but I’m definitely that guy right now. So much so I hate myself a little. But that self-loathing doesn’t stop me from staring hard as Rune’s daughter, trailed by her security guard, as she snakes down the paths and meets her best friend.

“ Dress ,“ Viper says the word like it’s offensive. “Dresses don’t look like that.”

“That one does,” Striker says.

“Focus,” Reaper snarls, “we have a mission.”

“Mission.” Viper laughs as he pushes off the light post and sinks onto a nearby bench that’s entirely too close to our target. “This mission just got real interesting.”

Through the open mic, I hear Reaper say, “We have the target in sight. We are awaiting orders.”

Fallon’s crackling response from the satellite radio comes through the earpiece. “ Extract .”

“Copy that.” Reaper repeats the order over the earpiece.

“We heard,” Striker says, “and Rodger that.”

“Not a problem,” Viper says, and Strike chuckles. “I’ll gladly take this hot piece of ass with us and tie her up.”

I don’t realize I’m nodding in agreeance until I feel the bench dip from the weight of a massive man sitting next to me.

Dread coils like a snake in my gut, freezing my limbs in place.

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” he asks, leaning back and spreading his arm out on the bench behind me. He flashes a bright smile, but it doesn’t meet his eyes.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Striker says in my ear, and his panicked alarm makes fear travel up my spine in little electric bursts.

I have one of two options.

Run like hell or face this problem.

I hold out my hand, offering it to the man wearing the three-piece suit. The gray hair around his temples stands out starkly against his dark skin. His deep brown eyes drop to my hand.

When he takes it, I say, “Nice to officially meet you, Mr. Harlow.”

He gives my hand a firm shake.

“What the fuck are you doing, Break,” I hear Reaper snarl in my earpiece just as Striker says, “Get the fuck out, now.”

Viper’s gritted out, “Jesus fucking Christ,” makes my skin prick, but I avoid looking in his direction. If I see him, how he’s probably marching toward me right now, it’s just going to make me panic even more.

“Are you all here?” Harlow asks, crossing his arms now, eyes darting over to Viper, who’s—I was right—stalking this way, with his shoulders bunched, the two women forgotten.

I shake my head, but Viper doesn’t slow down. Instead, he plops down on the bench next to Harlow and adjusts his hat as he leans forward, resting his forearms on his knees.

Harlow glances his way and cocks a brow but returns his gaze to me. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Harlow settles himself back onto the bench. His thigh touches mine, his other Viper’s, and I resist the urge to draw my knife and stab it through his leg.

He killed Hunter.

He tore my brother apart, and unless we can slip out before Rune’s soldiers are notified, we may end up in pieces, too.

Now I’m panicking even more, utter chaos swirling in my head, my eyes darting from one end of the park to the other, searching for the enemy. Rune’s about to get two more of us.

“ God-fucking-dammit ,“ Reaper shouts in the earpiece. “Tell him he has our attention.”

I blow out a breath. “We’re here.”

“Good.” Harlow nods in the girl’s direction, watching the Julian girl and Gavin’s daughter link arms and walk toward the large fountain at the center. “Since you’re all here, we can have a conversation.”

“Fuck we can,” Viper growls but stays still.

“I see you’ve taken an interest in Delilah and Cora.” Harlow smiles. “Not that I blame you. They are lovely girls.” His smile drops. “But they are just that. Girls.”

I wait, knowing he has more to say. Viper shifts, but I give a subtle shake of my head. I may want to stab Clyde Harlow in the middle of this park, but I won’t.

Viper will.

Harlow keeps his focus on the two women. “Innocent.”

“Like our brother was,” I say.

“Pawns,” Harlow says, nodding. “Though your brother was hardly innocent, but he didn’t deserve what Rune did to him.

I gesture to Delilah and Cora across the park. “Her security detail is garbage, by the way.”

From what we gathered when we researched her last week, her bodyguard isn’t new. Rune Gavin keeps a tight leash on his daughter after what he did. She’s rarely ever alone or even out in public.

He must know what’s coming.

“You may want to tighten up security.” My smile is poisonous. “Pawns may be innocent, but they’re the perfect pieces for revenge.”

Harlow takes a deep breath, then lets out a humorless chuckle. “Can Fallon hear what I’m saying?”

I nod. Fallon can’t, but Reaper can.

“Good,” he says, relaxing into the seat and spreading his legs out, wider. “I have a deal for him.”

“Fuck you and your fucking deals,” Viper snaps, but I hold up a hand before he can say more.

“Go on,” I tell Harlow, giving Viper a warning glare.

He reaches into his suit pocket and pulls out a white envelope, dropping it on my lap. “You are well acquainted with what Rune is capable of doing.”

I stare down at the envelope, scared to open it for what I may find inside. Viper leans across Harlow and snatches it up, removing the contents. He goes still, his eyes snapping to me.

“What the fuck is this?” he asks, eyes flaring wide. “Is this…?” Viper’s voice trails off, and he leans back in the seat, adjusting his baseball cap, the images hanging loosely from his hand.

It’s nearly dark now, and the lights around the park flicker on. Hundreds of tiny bulbs, blink to life like fireflies, and then the entire park is flooded with a silvery glow.

Someone nearby laughs.

Harlow points to the pictures in Viper’s hand. “Evidence. I have more.”

“What does that mean?” I ask. “More evidence?” but even as the question leaves my mouth, I already know.

Harlow is right. We are well acquainted with Rune’s activities.

“He didn’t stop,” Harlow says. “After that first time.” He meets my eyes. “But you already knew that, didn’t you? That’s why you came for him last year.”

I nod slightly.

“And he got a hold of one of you in the process.”

Striker mumbles something in my ear, and I glance at Viper. His head hangs, one hand adjusting his baseball cap, the other rubbing at his chest.

We failed that day, and Hunter paid the price.

“It was Zane Devin,” Harlow says. “He knew your plans. That’s how Rune was able to ambush you.”

“Fucking Zane,” Viper grates. “How did he know?”

Harlow lifts a large shoulder.

“Why are you coming to us?” I ask.

“I had kept my mouth shut, never said a word after that first time. I think I was too shocked, and I was angry too. But Rune didn’t stop.” He picks up the images from Viper’s lap and I’m surprised Viper doesn’t shove him away.

I take the pictures, and when my eyes land on the top one, bile burns my throat, memories flooding back brutally. A sweat breaks out on my lower back, that old trembling fear that I had felt hitting me square in the chest. I tap the image on my knee. Once. Twice. Two more times.

“He just kept doing it,” Harlow tells me. “Every year. Then he found people like him—people who wanted to do that.” He points to the pictures. “And I kept my mouth shut so I didn’t become one of the people in those pictures.”

I suck in air, stuffing the images in the envelope, then folding it in half and leaning forward enough to shove it in the back pocket of my jeans. “Why now?” I ask. “After all this time, why now? Why not come to Fallon when he started?”

Harlow lets out a strangled chuckle. “Because he’s as much to blame as Rune.”

Viper’s eyes meet mine.

Harlow gestures before us. “And to protect them.”

I follow his lifted hand to the girls, laughing and dancing under the canopy of lights.

“They are why I’ve been silent. I will do anything to keep these girls safe,” Clyde Harlow says. “Rune needs to be stopped. But I need your help.”