Page 42 of Quadruplets for the Vipers

Shit. I need to figure out what’s wrong with Rider alone.

“Perhaps I should take you to the hospital?” I ask.

“No. No hospital.”

I’m so grateful that he’s speaking, I don’t argue with him.

“Rider, please tell me what’s wrong. Did they hurt you? What happened?”

He takes long breaths, slowly calming himself down. “Come with me.” He manages to say the words with an effort as he fights off whatever internal struggle he’s battling.

I follow him upstairs to his room, where he turns on some music. In his familiar environment, with the music soothing him, he begins to calm down, and his breathing becomes less rapid. It occurs to me that he might have been having a panic attack.

“Talk to me, Rider, what happened? What did they do to you?”

“Absolutely nothing,” he says, his voice filled with disgust at himself. “They tricked me and locked me in that room in the dark.”

“So why… why did…”

“Why did I react like a baby? Because I freak out when I’m trapped anywhere. The last time I was held captive, this happened…”

He pulls his jacket off and unbuttons his shirt. He winces with disgust at himself, unable to meet my eyes as he removes it to reveal his bare chest. Every inch of his skin is covered inpale scars that shimmer in the light. I gasp at the sight, there are so many scars, each varying in size and depth, but it’s clear that whoever did this to him tortured him for a long time.

He mistakes my gasp for disgust and moves to cover himself. I place my hand on his, stopping him. He flinches but doesn’t pull away.

“No. You don’t need to hide them from me.”

He looks almost mythical, like an immortal being who’s survived countless wars. I can only imagine the pain he’s suffered, the mental fortitude he must have to go on. He watches me curiously as I trace the lines on his body, each scar telling a story.

“Do they hurt?”

“Not anymore. The mental damage is the only thing that affects me now. PTSD, according to my shrink. I was held captive by enemy forces,” he says by way of explanation. “If my squad hadn’t rescued me when they did, I wouldn’t have made it. I owe them my life.”

“I’m so sorry,” I say softly.

He shrugs. “I just hate that it makes me weak. They did nothing to me tonight, and I went to pieces and curled up in the corner like a fucking coward.”

“Did they say why they locked you in there?” I ask, curious as to what Tony’s plan was.

Perhaps they were just holding him out of the way while Tony spoke to me. I should be grateful that Rider is unhurt, but it’s not Tony’s style. I fully expected his men to beat Rider up to send a message.

“No, they’d told me I needed to move the car and led me to the door. I stepped through, and they shut it on me before I could react. By the time I realized I was trapped and the door wouldn’t open from the inside, it was too late. What did they say to you?”

Now’s my chance to tell him everything, to come clean about Tony, so we can come up with a plan.

The words get stuck in my throat.

If I tell him, I’m admitting that I’ve brought trouble to their door. I’d have to tell them that the Steel Vipers have a new, more powerful enemy than the Hellhounds because of me. I don’t want to do what Tony asked, but maybe it’s the only way to keep them all safe.

“They just said some bullshit about how you weren’t the kind of clientele they wanted in the club and that they’d left you someplace that you couldn’t cause trouble until I was ready to leave.”

The lie rolls easily off my tongue, and I hate myself for it, especially as Rider accepts it without a doubt. I’ve added to his belief that he’s a monster who isn’t welcome. I feel like shit, and I just want him to know that I don’t see him like that at all. So, I show him the only way I know how.

I kiss him.

Rider freezes for a second and I worry I’ve made a huge mistake, that I’ve ruined the tentative trust we’ve built. But then he kisses me back like a suffocating man being given oxygen. He kisses me like his life depends on it. It consumes me with a passion that feels almost ferocious. I place my hand on his chest and his hand whips out, grabbing my arms and pinningthem behind my back, his grip firm. A small moan of surprise and arousal falls from my lips and he pulls them tighter, holding them firm with just one hand.

He uses his last shred of control to pull back. He looks at me, his eyes ablaze.

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