Page 76 of Reaper & Ruin
It was clean. Fast. Horrifyingly casual. Executed with the kind of precision that only came from years of practice—or a total lack of empathy.
Danika turned back to us, head cocked. Eyes on the spot behind me, lips pulling into a vicious smirk as I gaped at the ground. Heart racing, for more reasons than one.
“Teach your toys to play nicely or I’ll break them.”Atlas’ voice was icy cold as he stepped over the body he’d created. “We might be playing your games, but Gio is mine.” He practically growled the last word as I tried not to blush. “Do not push me, Dani.”
I wasn’t fazed by murder, even if I didn’t enjoy doing it myself. But seeing Atlas commit it so easy for me? Over something as simple as a shove?
I was practicallygushing. It felt far more romantic than flowers and a home-cooked meal. It was like a declaration of the best kind of things, enough to make me blush.
Danika looked down at the dead man sprawled at Atlas’s feet, then up at Atlas himself, eyes lingering for a beat too long before she gave a slow, approving nod—like she’d bet on him winning and wasn’t the least bit surprised. Then she barked something in Russian over her shoulder, loud and sharp enough to make even the birds shut up.
One of her mercs jogged to the nearest SUV and pulled a backpack from the backseat. He brought it to her with quick, nervous steps.
She unzipped it and pulled out two thick metal collars. Around us, her men raised their weapons and aimed at our heads like we were about to start something.
She stopped in front of me first and offered the collar with a smirk. “Be a good boy, Reaper. Put it on.”
I took it, hesitating as my pulse thundered. But then Atlas looked at me and gave a short nod, sharp and sure enough for me to play obedient like he’d asked.
“What the fuck is this for?” He asked.
Danika’s smile widened. “We’re going to play a fun game. And I don’t feel like holding you at gunpoint all day.”
She handed him the other collar. “Don’t worry. The spike inside the bandwillkill you. But only if you piss me off.”
Atlas scowled but took it. He turned it over in his hands, then locked it around his neck. I followed his lead, clicking mine shut.
A moment passed, then all the guns lowered.
Danika crouched by the bag again and pulled out a small black device. “This is a dead man’s switch. It’s linked to me. Try to take those collars off, slide them over your head, cut them—boom. Spike to the throat. Straight through.”
She held up the remote and gave a cheerful shrug. “Only I can disengage them. So don’t fuck around. I have a lot to do today, and I’m in no mood for inconveniences.”
Atlas didn’t reply. Just clenched his jaw as she ordered us into the house.
He went inside first, cautious but not scared. His eyes darted around the space, presumably looking for exits, and anything we could use to help ourselves. I did the same, even if it wasn’t to the same effect.
The entryway opened into a wide living space—kitchen on the left, lounge on the right. The fridge still had plastic wrap on the doors, a sign that this place was new or not used as a proper home. My thoughts were backed up when I spotted the long oak table that dominated the center of the room, covered in blueprints, maps, and weapons: rifles, knives, grenades, even a rocket launcher leaning against the wall.
But perhaps the worst sign was layered on top of that setup.
A huge banner stretched across the far wall. The letters were smeared in dripping black paint:
WELCOME TO SLAUGHTERHOUSE.
Two podiums stood side by side—old barstools with cardboard boxes duct-taped to the tops. A party hat had been placed on each one. Atlas’s had a frowning face drawn in red marker. Mine had a crude, lopsided star.
Our names were scrawled on the front in thick black ink.
A whiteboard sat tilted on a cheap easel nearby, listing something that looked like rules and a scoring system. A digital kitchen timer was taped to the top. On the table behind the podiums sat three black-wrapped boxes labeled PRIZE.
I stared.
Atlas… laughed.I shot him a look.
He nodded toward the setup. “This is just so her. All of it. It fits so beautifully, and I just… I missed it.” He blinked awaywhat was clearly a mental breakdown. “She’s crazy, but this is a good sign. Dani doesn’t play games unless she’s got a reason and something to win. She must want something to go through all this trouble. And I don’t just mean the payday from murdering you.”
Before I could ask what the chances of us winning and walking away actually was, the silence outside broke.
