Page 80 of The Viper
"I'm going with them."
"Lucas—"
"I'm going," I said, my tone leaving no room for argument.
Noah studied me for a beat, then nodded. "Fine. But you follow their lead. This isn't a solo op."
I didn't answer. I was already moving toward the door, my mind running through the checklist—weapons, comms, backup plans. But underneath the training, underneath the cold efficiency, something hotter burned.
They'd gone after Hannah.
Lexi's sister. The woman she loved, the one she'd asked me to protect just hours ago.
And I'd failed.
No. Not failed. Not yet. But they'd made it personal now. They'd crossed a line, and that changed everything.
Behind me, I heard Lexi's voice, shaky but strong. "Hannah, just get here. Please. I need you safe."
I paused in the doorway, glancing back. Noah was watching me, his expression unreadable. "Be smart, Lucas. We don't know what we're dealing with yet."
"We're about to find out," I said.
And then I was gone, down the hall, down the stairs, my boots echoing against marble. The rage was building now, controlled but present, a fire that needed direction.
They'd made it personal.
And I was going to do something about it.
27
LEXI
The call dropped before I heard the engine start.
One second Hannah was crying, gasping for breath between words I could barely understand; the next, the line went dead, leaving me with the echo of her name on my lips.
“Hannah?” I said it again, even though I knew she couldn’t hear me. My voice cracked, anyway.
Lucas was already gone—stormed out with Noah and three men I didn’t know. He hadn’t said where he was going, only that she was on her way and I was to stay put. The way he’d looked at me—steady, determined, unyielding—had scared me more than the attack itself.
Now I stood in the front hall of Dominion Hall, barefoot, still in last night’s dress, the silk wrinkled and cold against my skin. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking. I’d been pacing for so long the marble under my feet had gone from cool to warm.
Outside, the sky was just beginning to lighten. A bruised shade of blue stretched over the trees. The gates stood ready to open. Headlights flashed once in the distance, and every muscle in my body locked.
Please, let it be her.
The car barreled up the drive, tires crunching over gravel, engine cutting hard as it stopped. Before the driver could even open his door, I was running.
“Hannah!”
She stumbled out before I reached her, one arm braced against the car door, the other clutching her stomach. Her hair was tangled, her lip split. Dried blood streaked down one side of her face. Her blouse—one I’d seen her wear to meetings a hundred times—was torn at the shoulder.
For a moment, neither of us spoke. Then she whispered, “Lexi,” and the sound of my name broke something open inside me.
I caught her as she swayed. The smell of rain, blood, and perfume hit me all at once. She felt smaller than I remembered—fragile in a way that made no sense, because Hannah was the strong one. She was the one who held everything together.
“It’s okay,” I said, voice trembling as I eased her toward the steps. “You’re okay now. This is a safe place.”
