Den of Vipers

I’m going to kill him.

Seriously. I’m going to kill Garrett. Garrett and I haven’t spoken all morning after what happened last night. This morning, Diesel dragged me from my room, and Garrett cooked me breakfast without saying a word to me. After, they tugged me into the living room where I fell asleep on the sofa. He won’t speak to me or even look in my direction.

It’s driving me nuts.

So what? He hates women. And yeah, he used me, but I enjoyed it. I would have told him no or kicked his ass otherwise. I don’t give a fuck, and for some reason, I want him. I need to peel away all that anger to reach that fear I saw underneath. To the man I know he is.

It seems so important, but he won’t let me, instead giving me the cold shoulder. Fuck that. I’ve never been the type to sit idly by. I survived this long by being a fighter and never giving up, no matter how scared I was. This is no different.

Whatever is between us has morphed over the time I’ve been here, and sleeping with Kenzo and Ryder has only cemented that. I want them, and I care for them—not that I’ll ever tell them. The bastards would use it against me.

I can keep fighting myself all I want, or I can revel in it. Bathe in the pleasure and power they offer. I’m tired of running, tired of living day to day, and Garrett doesn’t get to push me away because he’s scared.

I’m terrified.

Of him, of them, and what they mean to my body and heart. But I’m still here. Still fighting. So he has to as well.

I annoy him at first, poking him, kicking him, and when he snarls at me, I smirk in triumph. He goes back to ignoring me and watching TV, so I change the channel. He grunts and yells at me, but his phone rings.

I hear him talking to someone who sounds like Kenzo, so I keep changing the channel. He gets irritated and shouts and ends the call, glaring at me. “Behave.”

“Or what?” I grin. “Going to put me on my knees again?”

His eyes darken hungrily, his gaze dropping to my smirking lips in memory as he shifts on the sofa, no doubt remembering his cock there—I know I am. “That was a mistake.”

“Sure, whatever you say, big guy. Hey, I was supposed to have a tattoo finished soon, can I still go?” I question.

“By who?” he counters, narrowing his eyes. At least it’s a step in the right direction.

“Zeke, from Alluring Art.” I shrug.

“A guy?” he snaps, his body vibrating with anger. “No.”

“What? Why?” I ask, pissed now.

“No one other than us touches you,” he growls, and I laugh.

“Jealous?” I smirk.

He grins again. “No, the others would kill him. Is your tattoo really worth his death?”

Diesel laughs too, as he slouches on the sofa next to me. “He’s right, I would kill him, but Garrett tattoos, he can finish it for you. He did all of ours.”

Garrett freezes as I perk up. “Shit, really? They’re good! Will you?”

“No,” he snaps, grinding his teeth as he throws a glare at a smirking Diesel.

“What? Why? I can’t go to Zeke, but you won’t finish it?” I yell.

His head turns slowly, eyes dark. “I’m not inking you, forget it.”

“Why? ’Cause I’m a woman and you would hate to lower yourself to touching me?” I poke.

“Oh, this is going to be good, I need popcorn,” Diesel mutters, but I ignore him as I stare at Garrett, not backing down now.

“Leave it,” Garrett warns.

Yeah, fuck that. I’m done with his tantrums. “What’s your issue? Scared of pussy, or are you just really so self-destructive and filled with hate that you can only get it up by hurting someone?”

The room is silent apart from the popping of Diesel’s popcorn in the kitchen.

“Walk away, right now,” he snarls, his voice low and deadly. His eyes are alight with that same wrath I saw in the ring—he’s beyond angry. He’s going into his fighting territory, and I’m the opponent.

The smart thing to do would be to walk away and let him calm down. Do I? No, of course not. I never said I was smart, but I do have some big ass balls. “No. So is that it, little Garrett? Was it your mummy? No, a girlfriend I bet. What did she do, cheat? Oh no, poor little Garrett, but that doesn’t mean you get to treat me like shit, you big asshole. You can glare and threaten me all you want, but everyone knows the truth. You want me, and you hate yourself for it.”

Life is never promised, tomorrow is never guaranteed, and I don’t believe in wasting any time on what you wish you had said or done. So even though I know it’s dumb, I let it all out. We can never move forward until we get over the past.

He moves quickly, probably from his boxing, grabs my throat, and drags me into the air. My feet barely touch the floor, but I don’t fight his hold. I relax into it with a smirk, even as he tightens his grasp, cutting off my air supply. Those lips are curled up in hate, and his face is a snarl. Nothing but anger is guiding him. He doesn’t see me, no, he sees her.

The woman who hurt him so deeply he’s never recovered.

“You have a death wish? Is that it? Want me to kill you? Because I will. You might have sucked my dick, I might want you, but I will still end you,” he threatens.

“Then do it, let’s really end this. Kill me now, or stop using your fear as an excuse to push me away,” I wheeze.

He breathes heavily, his chest heaving as he glares at me. With a grunt, he throws me back to the sofa and goes to storm away. Sucking in rapid breaths, I rise to my feet, my eyes catching on Diesel, who’s sitting out of the way on the table, munching on popcorn and looking way too happy to watch the drama unfold.

Stomping after Garrett, I chase him upstairs. He slams his door, but I rip it open and follow him inside. I refuse to back down now, I’m finally getting somewhere.

He paces the floor before swinging his arm out and sweeping it across his drawers, knocking everything to the floor with a crash. Glass shatters, but he doesn’t care. He swings his hand and connects it with the bag so hard it snaps and tumbles to the floor. He grabs his bed and tosses it over, and even in the midst of the destruction, it’s not enough.

I can feel it.

I know that feeling, when you’re so filled with hurt, with pain, it warps you. I healed mine over the years with the help of Rich, but Garrett hasn’t had that chance. He bottled it all up, not wanting to show his weakness, and it’s rotting him from the inside out.

It will kill him.

So even though I’m facing down death, I keep pushing. “Finished?” I drawl, leaning against the wall.

He spins, his nostrils flaring, and advances on me. He slams me back to the wall. “This feels familiar,” I tease.

“Stop pushing,” he growls.

“Why? I’m done tiptoeing around you. The others might, but I won’t. I see the pain in your eyes, I know because I used to see it in mine. Someone hurt you, someone you trusted. Someone you loved. It changes you, it breaks you down, and in its place is a broken creature. One whose whole world crumbled. I know,” I yell, “because that was me.” I quiet then, breathing heavily. “It still is sometimes, I’m still running from it. Still living in fear like I’m that same little girl.”

He becomes motionless, his eyes flicking between mine, so I surge forward, baring my soul even though it hurts to flay myself open for him. “I trusted him, Garrett. I loved him like a child should.” Tears fill my eyes, and I hate that show of weakness, knowing he still has that power. “Every fist, every kick, or spat word broke me down. I became nothing but a survivor, living from one day to the next, and even now…even now when I’m free of him, I did the same, losing myself in booze and sex so I didn’t have to face myself. Want to hear the kicker? He still managed to fuck my life over by selling me. He fucking sold me.” I laugh bitterly. “As if ruining my whole fucking childhood wasn’t enough, he went ahead and sold me. But you know what? I’m tired of running. I hate him. I want him to pay, but more than that, I want to be free of those claws still inside me. I don’t know how to do that, but I’m trying. You have to try, Garrett, because I see it in your eyes—you’re in survival mode, still fighting, living day to day, but that’s no way to live. I’ll stop running if you stop fighting.”

He drops me and turns away. “I don’t know how,” he admits.

I don’t touch him, I know he hates that, so instead I circle around his body to face him. “First step? Admit it to yourself. You need to heal, Garrett, or your foundations will crumble. I’m not saying you have to talk to me, but I’m here if you need to. But so are your brothers. They’re out there, and they love you.”

“And you?” he rasps, watching me, his eyes raw.

“Me? I don’t hate you…all the time.” I smirk.

“Why? Why are you trying to help me?” he asks, and it seems important.

“Honestly? I don’t know. Maybe because I see myself in you. Or maybe I’m bored, maybe I’m doing it for purely selfish reasons. Either way, I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. We have to find a way to live together. If you really do hate me, we can work out a schedule so you can avoid me, if that will help,” I suggest, and then hold my breath.

He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing and fists clenching. “I don’t hate you. That’s the problem, baby, don’t you see that?” He shakes his head bitterly. “I don’t hate you, I care way too much…but the last person I did—”

“Hurt you,” I finish. “Okay, so we take this one step at a time. I’m not asking for marriage.” I grin, and he laughs. “Just a truce, if we can manage it. I’ll stop pushing you for a reaction, and you can stop trying to choke or kill me…okay, maybe the kill me part. Feel free to choke me any time, it’s pretty hot actually.”

He chuckles again, but it finishes in a groan. “You can’t talk to me like that.” He shakes his head. “I want you, I do, but I can’t…I would kill you…I don’t even know if I can be with someone like that again. You should stick to the others, to someone who can give you what you need. Not a broken fuck up.”

“So try.” I shrug. “Find out for real. It doesn’t have to be now, but think about it. I won’t lie, I find you attractive and I wouldn’t kick you out of bed.”

“And I thought you hated us,” he scoffs.

“Oh, I still do, it’s annoying as hell, but I’m trying here. Orgasms tend to lessen hate, and let’s face it, we both know this is my life now. I’m just done fighting against it.”

He sighs before sitting on his upturned bed and hanging his head in his hands. “Yeah, it is. We’re fucked up men, we shouldn’t have accepted the deal.”

“Maybe, maybe not. It’s in the past though, no point dwelling on it. What’s done is done. I’m one of you now, and it’s time I learned what that means and start acting like it. It won’t be easy, I’m still pissed and might take it out on you guys, but I’ll try to understand…or they can just fuck it out of me.”

He groans but goes quiet for a while, so I just sit here with him. Rich taught me that it’s okay to just be there, to let them know you are here if they need you. He sat outside my bedroom like that every night for a year. Every time I woke up screaming or scared, he was there, and it helped.

“Your dad…one day, you will tell us?” he whispers.

“Yes, one day.” I nod.

He sighs. “Then one day I’ll tell you as well, baby.” He looks at me, and the word ‘baby’ on his lips has me shifting to ignore the heat pulsing through me. This man is capable of such destruction, such evil. Yet I want him so much. I want him to destroy me in the best way.

“Good. So where do we go from here?” I laugh.

“We-we try to get along. To stop fighting each other just because we’re scared of what the other represents.” He nods and looks around. “I better clean this up.” He sighs and heaves to his feet.

“I’ll help. I caused it, after all.” He turns and offers me his hand. He’s done this before, but this feels more important, like a fresh start, so I let him pull me to my feet, and this time, he doesn’t let go straightaway, he smiles down at me, his touch lingering.

“Thank you.”

I nod and, without a word, get started. We work together in sync, aware of where the other is. I make sure not to touch him or brush by too closely as I throw wood away and sweep the floor while he straightens the bed and hangs the bag. I pile his stuff from his drawer on the side, wincing when I find the ring. I don’t ask though, I put it on top. I can feel his eyes, but he’s shared enough for the day, so I carry on working like nothing happened.

When we’re done, we head back downstairs. Diesel grins at us and wiggles his eyebrows as he throws a knife at cans lined up on the table. “Did you two fuck and make up? I heard a lot of crashing, but thought I would leave you to it.”

I laugh. “The phrase is kiss and make up, crazy pants.”

He frowns, suddenly serious. “Well, that’s a boring way to make up.”

“You know what? You’re right.” I grin and head his way. “Can I try?”

He holds the knife above my head. “Are you going to use it on either me or Garrett?” Not that he seems put off by the idea, more curious.

“Why? We both know you would enjoy it.” I wink before punching him in the gut. He bends over, wheezing, and I pluck the blade from his hand and turn to the cans as he laughs breathlessly.

“I’m gonna marry her,” he tells Garrett, but I ignore that, taking it as just another one of his crazy ramblings.

“You have to ask her, genius.” Garrett chuckles.

“Nah, I’ll just put a ring on her finger one day and tell her it happened,” he declares earnestly.

Rolling my eyes, I toss the knife like Rich once taught me. It hits the can and knocks it off. Whooping, I turn to them with a smirk. “Remember that when you piss me off next time.” Stalking around the table, I grab the knife and wander back over as they watch me in shock.

Flipping it in the air, showing off, I drop it in Diesel’s hand. “Thanks, crazy.”

I saunter away, their eyes still locked on me. “I think I just came,” I hear Diesel say.

Garrett snorts. “You’re nasty.”

“You telling me you didn’t just get hard?” Diesel asks loudly.

“I ain’t talking about my cock with you,” he replies as I giggle.

We spend the next hour in comfortable silence, but I soon get bored. I need to do something. I’m so used to working that I’m at a loss without it. I use it as a distraction, but it works, and I honestly miss it. I’m not the type to sleep all day or laze around. I need to be doing something. So when Ryder and Kenzo turn back up, I get to my feet in excitement.

I watch in shock as Ryder strips off his jacket and looks around at us, but then I freeze at the blood on his shirt. We haven’t discussed what happened. Yeah, we fucked, but there were feelings there. I don’t know where I stand, but staring at the blood, I feel worry pool in my stomach, and I’m suddenly before him, even though I don’t remember moving.

He blinks down at me, seeming confused as I finger the blood. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“It’s not my blood,” he assures me, his voice cold, but his face softens ever so slightly. He opens his shirt to show me his untouched chest. “See?”

I nod, relaxing and looking over at Diesel who seems way too happy. “He’s going to get the information you need?”

Ryder nods as his fingers circle my hands on his chest, holding them there so I feel the thrumming of his steady heart. “Yes.”

“Then I want to go with him,” I declare before leaning up and quickly kissing Ryder. I’m unsure why, but it feels right. “I need something to do. I can make sure he doesn’t kill him too fast,” I whisper to Ryder, who seems shocked at my kissing him.

Kenzo pouts. “Aww, don’t I get a kiss too?” he murmurs.

Laughing, I dart out my fist to hit him. He grabs it mid-air and yanks me against him, dipping me dramatically as he kisses me hard, solidly, until I’m moaning into his mouth, and only then does he let me up. My core pulses with molten heat from that one kiss. I stumble away, and he winks.

“Better.”

“Are you sure, Roxxane?” Ryder queries, bringing me back to the conversation.

I shrug. “I’ve seen him at work already, and he doesn’t scare me. Plus, you already said I can control him. Let me help, I’m going crazy in here.”

He searches my eyes before nodding. “If he gets to be too much, come back up,” he warns, pretending Diesel can’t hear him.

“She’ll be fine, won’t you, Little Bird?” He smirks, rubbing his hands together.

“He’s right, I will, see you later.” I nod at them, and Diesel drags me to the elevator. I won’t be coming back up, even if it gets to be too much. I need to show them I can survive their lives, and this is their lives. If I fear Diesel, he’ll use it against me, and eat me up with it until I die.

No, I refuse to back down.

I know they are my future now, and I need to take control. Be part of it. Prove to them I can be an asset more than a good fuck. Honestly, my old life feels like a blur, I’ve become so consumed by the Vipers. I don’t want to leave anymore.

I realised it a while ago, but I still fight it. I’m tired of being alone, of just surviving, struggling every day. Yes, I miss the bar, and I’ll need to make sure it’s still running, but truthfully, if I put aside all the bad shit, my life here isn’t too bad—apart from being bored shitless. I’m hoping if I can prove myself useful, they might let me do something. My future is still uncertain. They might kill me, but as the days pass, it seems less and less likely.

They need me too.

I know it, I see it. They want me here, all apart from Garrett. Yeah, they’re criminals, but half the people I know are. Yes, they can be cold, evil bastards, and this…this relationship didn’t start off in the best way. But what ever does in real life? They aren’t knights in shining armour, no, they are the villains in the dark, with brooding eyes and beast-like tendencies.

I never needed a knight.

I needed a body to stand with me in the dark, and these snakes? They do.

The more I learn about them, the more I realise just how alike we really are. They might have money and power, but underneath, we are all the same. Maybe that’s why they seem reluctant to kill me or use me like they first wanted to.

Like recognises like.

Maybe their venom is infecting me, maybe it’s Stockholm syndrome. Maybe I just don’t fucking care. I’ve never felt so alive. They care, they notice. Their words might be harsh and their touches mean, but only because I don’t think they know how to love any better than I do.

I guess we’re going to learn together, because now? I’m all in. I’m walking willingly back into that den of vipers and holding out my arms to be bitten. Let’s just hope it doesn’t kill me.

The door opens with a ding, and Diesel looks down at me, his face transforming. He looks eager and hungry, but not for me. For pain. For bloodshed. “Ready, Little Bird? You’re about to see what I’m really capable of.”

“Ready.” I nod, faking bravery.

He smirks as he steps out. “Good, because you won’t be leaving my side until you’ve screamed my name.” He turns and heads down the corridor.

Wait…what?