Den of Vipers

I can’t stop thinking about watching her with Kenzo. The way she screamed, the way she fought. It was breathtaking. Her beautiful, bare body writhing against the floor, filled with anger and pleasure. She hated it and loved it at the same time.

My little bird.

What she probably didn’t realise was that I spilled in my jeans as she came, watching her contort in release as Kenzo pounded into her tight, slick body from behind. It did things to me. Sure, I would have preferred more blood, but it was one hell of a show.

After she stormed off, I winked at Kenzo, who laughed, and ducked into my room to clean up. You ever had jizz in your jeans? Not fun. It’s almost as annoying to get out as blood. Slipping into just my boxers, I lounge on my bed. I can hear the others talking downstairs, no doubt updating Kenzo on what we found. But I was there, I don’t need to hear it again.

No, what I need is my little bird. She’s scared right now, even if she won’t admit it, and the Vipers are circling. She’s going to run again, I saw it in her eyes, and I can’t let that happen.

She’s mine now.

When this all started, she was just a toy, just a debt. A faceless woman I could torture for her father’s sins…now she’s the woman who kissed me like her life depended on it. Who looked into my eyes, who saw my darkness, my monsters hiding there, and got off on it. Even if she won’t admit it. No, my little bird is more like a snake than she realises, but she’s spent so much time amongst prey, she doesn’t know how to be a predator.

I’m going to show her. I’m going to break her free and let all those emotions out. I’m going to make her a Viper.

She was never going to get away from us, but it’s obvious to me now that this is more than that. She even has Ryder twisted up in knots, and Garrett, that poor bastard, she’s bringing back all his bad memories. He hates her for that, but also wants her. I heard him jacking off last night, her name on his lips.

My little bird will either bring us closer together, or burn us. I can’t wait to find out which.

So I wait for the others to go to bed, knowing Ryder will undoubtedly stay up all night in his office, trying to figure out who the hitter was. It was an insult that he managed to escape, that he almost got the drop on one of us. I can’t wait to get a hold of him and show him just what the Vipers’ den is like.

Once everything is quiet, I slip from my bed and pad downstairs. I walk through the dark, expecting Roxy to be trying to open the front door. But she’s not, so maybe she had a turn of heart? Or maybe she’s still waiting.

Heading to her room, I crack open the door and peer in. She’s still, curled up on her bed in one of her old shirts. I watch her from the darkness, noting the steady rise and fall of her chest. She’s asleep. No wonder she didn’t try to escape yet, it seems Kenzo tired her out.

Slipping in, I shut the door gently, so as not to wake her. This is becoming a habit, watching her while she sleeps. But I’m drawn to her and need her. To rip her open and expose her insides to my flames. I can’t help the compulsion.

Garrett says I have an addictive personality, probably from my junkie mother who shot up while I was still in her womb. I don’t care, it means my focus is a hundred percent on my little bird. I see the things the others don’t want to or can’t.

Like she belongs with us, even though she hates us…but does she? If Roxy really detested us, we would be dead already, she would have slit our throats in our sleep and damn the consequences. She hasn’t attacked us, even though she’s angry over what happened.

No, she’s wavering. She wants to hate us, feels like she has to because of how this started, but she’s slowly crumbling. If it’s anyone she should hate, it’s her fucking father, the stupid bastard. He sold her. We simply accepted.

The best thing to happen to us is the day we walked into that bar to collect. I still remember the way she took down Garrett and tried to attack me. My cock hardens at the memory. I wonder if she’ll fight me like that when we fuck.

I hope so.

Creeping across the room, I get onto the bed behind her, slipping closer until I can feel her heat. I wrap my arm around her and drag her against my chest. I’ve seen this in movies, but I’ve never tried it myself. Usually, the women I’ve been with are either passed out, or so scared they run away and we have to pay them to be quiet.

It loses its fun after a while—all that fear. Just once, I want someone to match me, to not burn in my fire, but be reborn in it.

I hope Roxy is that one.

Because either way, she’s being plunged into it, and there is no escape for her. Not now, not ever. She knows that now, I see it in her eyes. She sighs in her sleep, snuggling closer and pressing that plump ass against my cock, making me grunt as desire pulses through me. What I wouldn’t give just to rip off her panties and slam into her wet heat. To hear her scream, to paint my madness across her skin.

Sliding my hand upwards, I press it under her shirt until I feel her soft, silky skin. She’s perfect. Fire and heat wrapped up in a curvy, beautiful package. I want to see her come apart for me like she did Kenzo. To feel her pussy or her ass clenching around my cock as I fuck her.

All I keep imagining is her tied up in my den, her body naked and covered in blood, the fire roaring behind her as I take her. Fuck her. She would enjoy it, my little bird, the same way she enjoyed my kiss, the same way she enjoyed me killing that man, even if she tried to shy away from it. She wanted him to pay. Needed to feel that somewhere, the world wasn’t all bad, and those bastards get what they deserve.

We might be Vipers, predators, but often the men we kill are evil.

Rapists, abusers, cheaters, and killers.

Our world is filled with them, and if we take down just one, and save a life, then I would dirty my soul every day, wading through the blood and bullshit. Not everything we do is about money, after all, we started when we were all lost. No family, with vengeance in our hearts. All different, but brought together by pain. By need. It shaped us, remade us until we were this.

And each person we tore down, each person we killed, made us lose another piece of the boys we once were. I don’t care, that boy was a trusting fool who loved his junkie mother, even though she would try to sell his body for a hit. Who kept on running back, even when the state took him away. Until there was nothing to run back to.

I don’t regret the path that brought me here, because it brought me to her, and I now know that was my purpose all along, all that pain, all that suffering and darkness I had to plunge into was so I could find my little bird.

She whimpers in her sleep, her body stiffening in fear. Poor Little Bird, trapped inside her own darkness. Pinching her stomach, I wake her up. I feel the moment she registers she’s not alone. Her breathing stutters, her whole body tightening against me as I continue to stroke her soft stomach. So soft, so silky, I wonder if it would part for my knife like butter?

“Little Bird, Little Bird, trying so hard to fly away from us, even in her sleep,” I murmur against her neck, the pounding of her pulse loud and matching mine.

“Diesel?” she whispers into the night. I don’t think she realises that when she knows it’s me, a breath whooshes from her and she relaxes a fraction. She’s beginning to trust us, even if she doesn’t see it.

“Tired, Little Bird? Not trying to escape tonight, even after you fucked Kenzo and he made you realise just how much you want us?”

She snarls and flips over, glaring at me. Smirking, I drag her closer, placing my hand on her plump arse to keep her near. “I don’t want you, it was a stupid mistake…I didn’t even want it.”

“No? Don’t lie to me, Little Bird, I saw your face. You wanted it…but let’s go back…did you say no?” I ask. She doesn’t get to make Kenzo feel like he took her without consent, it would wreck him. He’s good like that.

She swallows hard, her eyes darting away for a moment, trying to ignore me. We can’t have that. “Little Bird, answer me,” I snap, pinching her ass and making her yelp.

“No, okay? I didn’t say no!” she yells.

“Why?” I push.

“Because-because I wanted it.” Her chest rises faster with her declaration, her eyes widening like she can’t believe she admitted that.

“Good little bird, finally realising what we can all see. You yearn for us, you want us, need us,” I murmur, my eyes dropping to her lips. I want to kiss her again. I wonder if she would let me.

She goes quiet, her eyes cloudy with thought before they snap back to mine. And I know, I just know she’s going to try something. My little bird can’t give up without a fight, she thinks it would make her weak. Nothing could be further from the truth.

Giving up and accepting us would be the strongest thing she could ever do. We’re monsters, vipers, and to love a monster makes you one of the strongest people in the world. To let them into your heart, knowing they could destroy you, kill you…that’s the ultimate show of strength, but she will learn that one day.

For now, I’ll settle with this, being close. Holding her and her not trying to get away. It’s nice, and feels right and comforting. Like coming home.

One day, that may change. One day, it may not. The only way I know how to show her my feelings is through pain. It could kill her, loving me, having me, but wouldn’t that be the best declaration of love you could have?

Her tongue darts out and wets her lips, making me groan as I watch. “Don’t tease me, Little Bird.”

“Or what? No deals tonight?” she taunts, moving closer until she’s plastered against me. Every curve pressed to my hardness.

“No deals, Little Bird, but know that tonight, I’m close to the edge. Plunge into that darkness, and you might not come back,” I warn.

She tilts her head, considering me for a moment, before she leans closer, her hand brushing down my arm. “Maybe I don’t want to.”

I don’t move when she presses her lips to mine. I let her kiss me with hard, desperate pecks as she presses closer. With an annoyed grunt, she nips my lip, hard. I snarl, then snap. I tried to hold back, but I can’t.

She doesn’t let me.

Gripping the back of her head, I drag her closer. Her lips part on a gasp, her hand clutching my thigh as she falls into the kiss. Sweeping my tongue into her mouth, I let her feel my need for her. How crazy she makes me. She moans, meeting me with her own desperate desire as we lose ourselves in each other.

Her hand strokes up my thigh, making me groan into her mouth as she trails it across my hard-on. In warning, I bite down on her lip, and she breaks. Her teeth crash into mine as we fight each other. Both battling for dominance. I’m so lost in her, I don’t even notice her slipping her hand into my boxers where I have my knife clipped until it’s pressed against my throat.

I roll us over, and her knees slip to either side of my hips as she glares down at me, knife poised, pressing to my vulnerable neck. Smirking, I tilt my head back, giving her better access as I watch her. Fuck, she’s magnificent.

“I’ll do it,” she snarls, her pussy resting against my hard, boxer-clad cock. She’s a liar. I can feel how wet she is through the thin fabric. She flicks her grey hair back, observing me like she doesn’t know what to do next.

My poor, lost little bird.

“Do it, spill my blood. I’ll die happily with you on top of me…fuck, you could even screw me while you’re doing it. Just think how hot that would be.” I groan, reaching up and gripping her hips, dragging her back and forth across my cock. Her lips part on a moan before she shakes her head and digs the knife in deeper. I feel it slice my skin, a fleck of pain zapping through me.

Grunting, I thrust up, making her bounce on me and dig the blade in deeper. She cries out, pulling the knife back as I feel my blood dripping down my throat. It’s not enough, I want more. I want her to do whatever the hell she wants.

“More,” I demand.

She shakes her head. “You’re seriously nuts.”

I smirk. “And you love it. The choice is yours, so what are you going to do, Little Bird? Kill me? You could cut off my hand to get out of this building. You would be free, I wouldn’t even fight you.”

“Why?” she questions, confused, the knife only resting against my skin.

“Why not? You said it, I’m crazy.”

She sits there, atop me, debating whether to kill me and escape. She’s smart, she’s playing it all out in her head. “They would come after me, they would kill me for sure then.”

“Maybe.” I grin. “Or maybe you would escape them.”

She swallows, staring at me. “No, I won’t. I won’t ever.”

Ah, now she gets it.

“No, you won’t. But there’s your choice, Little Bird. Run for the rest of your life and hope to escape them, or use that knife for something that ends with us both having a good time.”

She looks at the knife, tosses it down next to me with a sigh, and rolls over, flopping onto her back beside me. “Fucking assholes, came in and ruined my goddamn life.”

“Did we really?” I inquire inquisitively, not bothered if we did.

She doesn’t look at me, but bites her lower lip. “I love my bar.”

“Anything else? You had no real friends, no constant lovers…all you had was the bar.”

She looks at me then with tears in her eyes. “Bars don’t hurt you. Bars don’t betray you. I loved someone, so deeply, and he left.”

“He left you?” I ask, eyes narrowed at her loving someone other than me. I want to kill him. Would it be too much to hunt him down?

She snorts. “Well, in a way, but that bastard,” she growls, “went and fucking died on me. The only fucking person who ever gave a shit if I ate, if I slept, and if I was alive, and he died. Not even my own dad did, and my mother didn’t even know I was there, she was too drugged up to care. But Rich, he did. He took me in when I had nothing. He gave me a job, a home, and then he fucking died.”

I consider her words. “He owned the bar?”

She nods. “I was already working there to pay off my dad’s debt when I finally got emancipated. I was living on the streets, and he noticed. He gave me the place above the bar, paid for the furniture and everything. Gave me a job, bartender then manager.”

“How did he die?” I query, prying. At least I don’t need to kill him. But I’m still jealous of the love in her voice. She doesn’t get to love anyone but us.

“Cancer,” she whispers, tears rolling down her cheeks before she dashes them away, not letting even that weakness escape her. My brave little bird. “It was horrible, so fucking fast. By the time we found out, it was too late. The bastard went and left me the bar without telling me, told me it was my home now. Hoped it gave me a better future than him.”

“I’m sorry, Little Bird.” And I am. She’s been through so much, survived so much, the scars painted across her body and soul. She doesn’t realise she’s more like us than anyone else. Maybe I should try and explain.

So even though I’ve never told anyone, I rip open those old wounds, the ones that poisoned me, just so she might understand. “My mother was a junkie too.”

She turns her head and looks at me, her dark eyes glistening with tears. Reaching up, I wipe one away and taste it on my thumb. “She cared as long as she could use me. Drug mule, runner, even tried to sell me once. But still I loved her. I got taken away from her a lot, put into homes. But I was what they called a troubled youth. I loved her so much, she was my mother. I always ran away and went back. But it meant back to that life, the life that got me locked in juvie for a while.”

Her eyes watch me intently as I turn and lay my head on my arm, my other hand reaching for her. She doesn’t stop me this time as I run it up and down her thigh. “When I got out, for GBH, she was dead.”

She gasps. “How?”

My lips purse as I try to push back the rage to speak. “Murdered. I figured out she owed a seller too much money, and couldn’t pay it back, so he called on her. Beat her to within an inch of her life, and while she was still alive, burned down the house with her in it. I got there right after. I tried to get in, to get to her, the smoke choking me. The flames burning me.” I hold up my hands, flipping them to show her the burns on my palms. “I couldn’t, I could hear her screaming though. Despite all the times she had let me down, she was still my mother. For all her faults, I loved her with every fibre of my being, she was my obsession. My only family.”

“Diesel,” she whispers.

“I chased him down, you know? I was so angry that night, watching the flames swallow her, that I finally let go. I’d held back for so long, pushing away my anger, all the darkness writhing within me. That night I stopped fighting it, I let it consume me. I hunted him across the city.”

“How old were you?” she asks.

“Seventeen. I found him, knocked him out, and dragged him to an old, abandoned warehouse. When he woke up, I made him pay. Repeatedly. I let everything out on him, and for the first time, I knew what it felt like to be free. To be me. To feel bones crack under my hands and blood spray across me, but it wasn’t enough, I needed him to feel the same pain she did. So I doused him and set him on fire and watched…and guess what? It still wasn’t enough. I wanted more, like that fire, I needed more. I’m fucked up, I’m crazy, I know it. Never thought I would find a place to fit in, then I found these guys and they are just as fucked up as I am, though they hide it better. We all know what it means to be lost, to be alone, Little Bird, but together? Together, we’re stronger. We shed that life, like a snake sheds its skin—”

“And became the Vipers,” she finishes, sighing. “Fuck, why did you tell me? It makes it harder to hate you.”

“Because you really don’t hate us, and you’re looking for reasons not to. There’s one. Yes, I’m a monster, Little Bird. I love people’s pain, I love my job, I enjoy killing people and making them suffer. I love protecting my family, and I do it all for them…and now you.”

“Me? You barely know me,” she murmurs.

“I know enough. You are one of us now. I will protect you like them, you entered a den of vipers, Little Bird. You choose whether to remain as our prey or shed and become a predator. Choose wisely. Not everyone is invited inside, in fact, no one is. Live or die.”

“But why me?” she demands. “And don’t say a debt, you could have killed me and been through with it.”

“Because, Little Bird, that night…the night your dad handed you over without a fight, we saw the same thing in you that’s in all of us. Garrett doesn’t even know why he saved you, I think. Ryder lies to himself, says it’s business. Kenzo plays it like it’s a game, keeping everything to his chest. But I see it. The moment your dad gave you up…you became like us. Another lost soul. Another Viper in search of a home. We all started with nothing, no one, and now look where we are. A family. A broken, fucked up family, but a family nonetheless, that would kill before they let anyone take you. Think on that.” Leaning down, I kiss her softly, and she sighs. “Goodnight, Little Bird. You can keep the knife, think of me every time you use it, but know if you use it on us, on my brothers, I’ll have to kill you. I might even enjoy it.”

With that, I slip from the bed and walk away. “Diesel?” she calls, and I stop.

“You’re right, I want to hate you, but honestly, I’m hurt. Hurt my dad could give me away so easily. I shouldn’t be surprised, but I guess I always wanted to see the good in him. Then you came and gave me people to aim that hate at, but I see it too. The ghosts in your eyes, they match mine…and I hate that more. Because it means…” Her words trail off, voice quiet.

“It means you’re like us.” I nod, looking over my shoulder at her. “A snake.”

I shut the door. She won’t come after me, and she won’t escape tonight, I know that now, even if she doesn’t. She’s home, and she’s finally starting to understand it.

Maybe she will still fight, but if she didn’t, it wouldn’t be as much fun.

I can’t wait to watch her rip the others to pieces, to get into their cold hearts like she has mine. We will all burn together.

Because of one woman.

Our woman.