Briar: My pleasure.
Exhaling, I shove the phone into my pocket as a hand slams between the closing silver doors. It jams, the warning rings, and I step back as the Reaper stares at me flatly. Those cold eyes dance with irritation, and my shoulders hike, readying for a battle.
He slips in beside me, leaning on the back wall, a dark shadow that insists on stalking me.
The elevator slowly closes its doors and begins to rise. The air turns charged, heightened, and I shift. I hate how easily he can influence me—the room—everything. I hate that he’s here.
I hate how my body hums, begging to be touched again
“You have a leak.”
I know we do, but hearing it from his lips hits me in the gut like a physical punch.
“I know.”
The elevator rises to another floor, and I hold my breath. I expect the doors to open, but the damn thing keeps going. Growling, I jab the buttons, trying to force it to stop.
I want out—away—from him. I need to get away from him. Away from the conflicting emotions. The broken heart that insists on beating only for him. Only him.
If I stay here any longer, he’ll see everything. He’llseeme.
“They’re going after everything you love,” he comments slowly, eyes on my back. My shoulders tense as if each word stings. “Someone is selling your secrets to the Board to get rid of you.”
“Iknow.” If the clan loses trust in me, that’s it. They’ll turn. I’ll be out, my agreements voided. And whoever takes over, whether it be Hayes or someone else who seizes power, can get in good with the Board by undoing all my work.
They can give Sloane to Doyle.
They can give Collins to Bruno.
They can kill Briar.
No.
Pounding my fist into the white buttons, something snaps. My restraint, my resolve, this ugly bubble of doubt explodes, and I pummel the metal.
The Reaper wraps a large protective palm around my hand, tugging me back forcefully. Blinking, the fog of red dulls as his face appears in my vision, black eyes searching mine.
I frown as he inspects my hand, tsking. It’s bright pink, sore. I didn’t realize I was hitting so hard. All I felt was panic—the sheer terror of losing my family to this mess. At failing them—failing like Pops always thought I would.
Because a woman can’t lead. I was never meant to be the captain.
“Hurting yourself never solves anything,” he whispers.
I remember a time when I tried to hurt myself to find stability. He helped me find pleasure through the pain.
“I assume you already reached out to Briar.”
“He’s looking into everyone.” My voice shakes, and looking down, I see my knees wobble. But it’s the only sign of fear I allow myself. “But that will take days, even with his computer skills.”
Days of having a mole. Days of not knowing when the next strike will come.
If the Board only came after me, I could handle it.
But they’re going after my men and my clan. They’re trying to destabilize me, take my power, before coming for me. Go for the knees, then the eyes, and then they’ll chop off my head.
They’re fucking assholes, but they know what they’re doing.
Killian holds up my hand, pressing it into a fist. “Then we’ll do what we can.”
