Viper (NSB Book 3)

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Viper (NSB Book 3) Page 9

by Alyson Santos


  “Nah, I’m not much for the spotlight.”

  She legit snorts. “Right.”

  “Seriously, though. It’s always been Holland’s band. I was fine with it. She deserved the attention and never abused it like I probably would have. It’s a miracle I didn’t fuck things up sooner.”

  Her silence isn’t a good sign. “That sounds like your father talking.”

  I manage a shrug as I lean my guitar against the couch and stretch. “Just because he’s an asshole doesn’t mean he’s always wrong.” I distract myself with a hunt for beer in the kitchen.

  “You only say that because you’ve been hearing it all your life.”

  Bottle opener. Shit, what did I do with the thing? I give up on the drawer and start searching the counters.

  “I know you can hear me.”

  “Trying to find the bottle opener. Did I leave it over there?”

  “Oh, okay, so you’re just going to avoid my analysis.”

  “What analysis?” I tease, and earn an eye roll. She grabs something off the coffee table and approaches the kitchen.

  “My badass alpha feels no pain. I get it.”

  But she doesn’t seem to be too against the description when she closes the gap and deposits the bottle opener in my hand. There goes her gaze again, wandering over my body. Locking on hard lines and harder… damn. This girl has no mercy on a guy trying to be a decent human being for once.

  It’s way too easy for her palm to slide past flimsy elastic.

  “Shit,” I groan.

  “I knew it,” she whispers, hot breath sending sparks over my skin as she discovers my neck, the line of my jaw. Dark nails sink into my chest.

  “You’re making things damn near impossible for me, you know that?”

  Her mouth curves into a smile I want to suck off her face. “What girl wouldn’t want to play with one of Canada’s Hot Thirty Under Thirty every chance she gets?”

  I devour that smile. Her lips, her tongue. It’s not enough, and she gasps at the violence of my hips shoving her into the island. Her fingers dig into my back to pull me into an intoxicating rhythm that sends my thoughts down the hall to the bedroom.

  I guide us toward the opposite counter where my right hand searches a drawer while my left works on coaxing moans from the woman who’s uprooted my world. I strike gold with both and rely on my teeth to conquer stubborn packaging. She’s so light as I lift her onto the counter and scale her thighs, already open and inviting me in. Head back, eyes closed, chest rising and falling in an unnatural race for oxygen, she’s every woman in my songs.

  “You’re sure?” I say. A hand that was gripping the edge of the granite, grasps me instead, low enough to send my blood pounding in desperation.

  “Yes. Now!”

  But I don’t. I can do better than this. She deserves better than this.

  Her legs tighten around my waist as I lift her from the counter and carry her to the couch. She’s already mine, so impatient.

  “Hell’s fire and Hades’ desire, have nothing on you, babe.

  Nothing on you.

  Reigning kings tossed worthless rings with less hunger than my desperate plunder for your treasure.

  Better, you tell me no, and save my soul, before…”

  I’ve surrendered too. I know it. We both do. I groan into her. “Before…”

  “Before your charm, disarms all that I am. Breathe my last, through your lungs. The sweetest death.”

  And I do.

  ∞∞∞

  “I have an idea.” Hannah tilts her head up from my chest.

  “What’s that?”

  “How about we do this every day? Maybe a few times?”

  I laugh and run my finger down her cheek. After my gentle kiss, she settles against me again, fingers tracing the art etched into my skin.

  “I mean, we can be flexible,” she continues. “Location, position, things like that. I’m open.”

  It’s a tempting offer. More than that. An irresistible one. Too bad she doesn’t understand what she’s offering.

  “I’ve always loved this one. Even more so now,” she says. By the location of the chills rushing along my nerves, I can tell she’s outlining the detailed likeness of a burning Hades.

  “Ah. That’s one of my favorites too.”

  “Did you get it before or after ‘The Death of Hades.’”

  “Before.”

  “Is the song about Holland?”

  “Basically.”

  “And the tattoo?”

  I follow her fingers over the lifelike shading. “Actually, the tattoo that inspired the song is the opposite. It’s about the moment I committed to this journey and accepted the Hell that comes with it. ‘The Death of Hades’ is about Holland’s power to make it worth it. She transformed the pain into beauty.”

  “My god,” she whispers, now tracking my jaw. “You really loved her.”

  “It was more than love, Han.”

  “I know you two are long over, but she’d freak if she knew I was here.”

  “Sister code?” I say with a laugh. “Holland’s not petty like that.”

  “No, but she’s protective.” Her grin says it all.

  “Yeah, she’d kick my ass for corrupting you,” I say.

  My phone erupts, and we both stiffen at the name.

  “Miranda,” Hannah mutters. My blood freezes as she pushes herself up and waves me toward my chariot with a bitter hand.

  “I’m not going to take it.”

  “She calls you a lot for not being your girlfriend.”

  I stare at the display, the bright red decline button. “It’s complicated.” I really need a better response for this.

  “Do you even like her?”

  I sigh and rub my face. “Not really.” I regret sharing the truth which is so much worse.

  “So, what? You’re just screwing her because she’s that good?” I search for amusement, but only get resentment.

  “No, it’s not about that.”

  “Then what?”

  This should be easy to explain. To this person who would also keep my secret to protect her sister. Then again, explaining how badly you screwed up is never an ideal topic. “She knows things.”

  “Knows things?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Your bank account? Social security number? What?”

  “She knows about the breakup of Tracing Holland. If she leaks it… God, I can’t even think about what would happen.”

  Hannah pales. “Wait. Is she extorting you?”

  I curse and rest my head on my fists. “No. I mean, I don’t know. Maybe.”

  “Dammit, Wes! Why didn’t you tell me? I’m a lawyer. We can—”

  “We can, what?” I snap. “File a lawsuit? Go to the cops?”

  “Okay, no, I get it, but—”

  “She hasn’t even admitted that’s what she’s doing. I can’t explain it. She’s never threatened me openly. It’s just been understood that I play along, and in exchange, she doesn’t ruin us. You know what would happen to your sister and her career if our feud got out right now. To all of us.”

  “Worst case? The album would flop.”

  “And the tour. Everything—over.”

  Hannah quiets, eyes softening, and I have to look away. “Does Holland even know?”

  “About Miranda? Of course not. And she won’t, okay?” My gaze bores into her. “Promise me, Hannah. I’m keeping your secret. No one can know about this.”

  “Okay, okay, I promise. But Holland despises you right now.”

  “I know.”

  “And you’re still protecting her?”

  “Of course.”

  “But maybe if she knew about this—”

  “She won’t. I’m serious. She deserves to have the life and career she’s earned. I’m not going to take that away from her because I messed up with Miranda.”

  “I get that, but what about you?”

  “It’s my own fault.”

  Han
nah crosses her arms. “So that’s it? You’re just going to be some woman’s sex slave until she’s done with you? What if she never gets bored?”

  I roll my eyes. “It’s not like that.”

  “No? What is it she wants from you, then?”

  “A fantasy, I guess.”

  “What, like princess dresses and tiaras? No sex?”

  I don’t have an answer for that.

  “Fuck! And what about me? About this?” she cries, bursting up from the couch.

  “This is amazing, Hannah. I’d do anything to make it work with you, but you knew that was never going to happen. I’m not wired for happily ever after.”

  “Wait, so you were just going to screw me when your fake girlfriend wasn’t around?”

  “Come on. You know that’s not what this is.”

  “Do I?”

  “I tried to warn you. I—” Not my best speech as she grabs her bra and stomps to her room. “Stop! Will you just—”

  “Screw you!” And the door slams shut.

  ∞∞∞

  I can’t stand the sound of tears. Especially from those I care about. Especially when I’m the cause. Damn the thin walls of my condo. Didn’t the contractor believe in privacy?

  I want to intrude, my hero complex raging at full blast, but this one is beyond my expertise. Apologies do nothing without promise of change, and to be perfectly honest, she’s much better off hating me than pursuing me. I’m a dead end. Still, it’s pain, and I deal a lot better with my own than someone’s I care about.

  I don’t expect an answer when I tap on her door so I’m encouraged by the, “Not gonna happen, Wes!” that blasts through.

  “Hannah, please? Hear me out.”

  “I did.”

  That lie is an invitation if I ever heard one. I push through and suppress my smile at her exasperated curse.

  “You’re trespassing,” she mutters.

  “You’ll have trouble proving that in a court of law.”

  “Asshole.”

  “Drama queen. Move over.”

  She shifts just enough to give me the edge of the bed.

  We’re both silent as the space between us shrinks, and I finally brave her pain. “Hannah, I’m sorry for my role in this.”

  “But?”

  “No buts for that part. I’m sorry. I did a terrible job explaining the situation with Miranda. With you, it’s just, I don’t know.” I scrub at my eyes and focus back on the floor. “I don’t even have a handle on what’s going on with all of that, so I have no idea how to explain it. The thing is, and don’t bite my head off, you and I both know I’m not the only reason you’re in here right now.” Her eyes narrow, and I shrug. “You’re an intelligent, rational woman, Han. You know this isn’t just about me.”

  “Oh, so now you’re going to give me the mental illness speech on top of it?”

  “No. You don’t need it. You could give that speech in your sleep, which is why you are not going to be surprised that I’m setting a condition for you to stay here.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me. Rent, babe. You’re paying rent.”

  Her nose scrunches at my smile.

  “Rent?”

  “Yep. I’m going to guess that quitting life also means you quit therapy, so if you want to hide here, you’re going to have to keep seeing a therapist.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “You want to test me?”

  “I want to slap you, but it’s too much effort.”

  I smirk. “Exactly, because deep down rational, intelligent Hannah knows I’m right.”

  “Damn you.”

  “Sure, as long as you go to your appointments. Hey, I don’t even care if you spend the rest of the day brooding and watching judge shows, but you’re going to talk to someone about what’s going on. Non-negotiable.”

  She throws an arm over her face. “You suck.”

  “Maybe. I also care about you. A lot.”

  She peeks out from under her arm, and I plant a quick kiss on her forehead.

  “Non-negotiable,” I repeat moving to the door. “Also, no more sex because seriously? How fucked up is this?”

  She turns toward the wall. “I bet that one is still negotiable.”

  10: PROVE IT

  A week ago I longed to see Holland’s name light up my phone, and now? I check the guest room door to make sure it’s still closed before accepting the call.

  “Hey, Holland.”

  “Wes! Thank god.”

  “Good to hear your voice too.” Except based on the quaver, I’m not.

  “Wes, I know you hate me right now—”

  “I don’t hate you. I will never hate you.”

  She quiets for a moment. “Okay, well, I know we’re at odds, but I need your help. Do you remember that girl Hannah brought to the Acrobat release party?”

  “Uh, what?”

  “From her law school. Tall, disgustingly gorgeous. Come on, think. She was all over you. You probably slept with her.”

  “Wow, thanks.”

  “Don’t pretend to be offended. Just think.”

  I sigh. “You mean Charlotte?”

  “Yes. That was her name. Do you still have her number?”

  “I don’t think I ever had her number.”

  “You’re sure? Do you know where she lives? Her e-mail? Last name? Anything?” I feel her disappointment through the phone.

  “I haven’t spoken to Charlotte since she left my room the following morning. What’s going on?”

  “It’s Hannah. Something’s wrong, and I’m scared.”

  I clench my jaw and force air into my lungs. “Yeah?”

  “Please, if you know anything... You always saw her as a little sister. Help me find her.”

  Yep, this is totally messed up.

  “Why do you think something’s wrong?”

  “Because she just dropped off the grid.”

  “You didn’t see her at Christmas?”

  “She was present but completely evasive. She broke up with her boyfriend and said she was living with a friend.”

  “Okay? And that concerns you?”

  “It’s not just that. Trust me, she wasn’t right. She wasn’t healthy. I’m afraid she’s headed in the wrong direction again and if she’s alone…” Her pain twists through me as her voice trails off.

  “Holland, I’m sure she’s okay. Have you tried calling her and seeing what’s up?”

  “Of course I have. She answered the first time and said she was fine and we shouldn’t worry. She’s been ignoring everything since.”

  “Okay, well, there you go. She’s fine.” I roll my eyes on her behalf for that one.

  “Seriously? If Sophia suddenly got all secretive and started ignoring your calls, would you accept she was fine just because she said so?”

  Shit. I let out a breath.

  “Exactly. We’ve contacted her friends, and now we’re trying to track down anyone else who might have a clue where she is.”

  “I wish I could help, Holland.”

  God, I hate this.

  “No, I know. It was a long shot. If you hear anything, though…”

  “Okay.”

  If I hear anything, I’ll still be a liar.

  I pause at Hannah’s door on the way back to my room. This has to stop. All of it, and my fist finds the wood. I push through when she ignores me. She must have expected as much because my spot is open on the edge of the bed.

  “That was Holland?” she mutters toward the ceiling.

  “You heard the call?”

  “Your walls suck.”

  “They do.” I study her as she shifts to face me. “Also, your sister loves you. It killed me to lie to her.”

  “It would kill her to know the truth.”

  “No it wouldn’t. You’re not giving her enough credit.”

  “What do you know about it?”

  “Nothing. I just know Holland. She takes the hard fight for those she loves.”


  “Oh, so I’m a fight now?”

  “When have you ever not been one?”

  I get a scowl for that.

  “Thanks for not betraying me,” she says after another pause. “It must have been hard.”

  “Fucking brutal. And you’re welcome.” I force her to look at me. “Please don’t do this anymore. You have to tell your family what’s going on.”

  There’s no evidence I got through. Her poker face is damn impossible when she wants it to be. Not sure if it’s a lawyer thing or a Hannah thing. After a long silence, I rise to leave.

  “Hey, Wes?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You should know that I decided I don’t hate you after all.”

  I grin. “I already knew that.”

  “Asshole.”

  “Yep.”

  She smiles and absently runs her fingers along the edge of the mattress. “You’re also a really good friend.” Her eyes turn serious as they journey to mine, and I swallow the twinge in my gut.

  “Yeah well, I like the hard fight even more than Holland.”

  ∞∞∞

  Surprises suck. Anyone who knows me understands I never want to walk into a room on my birthday and be audibly assaulted by hiding acquaintances. I don’t need random gifts or unannounced reunions with old friends. I certainly don’t want Miranda Rivenier asking to be buzzed up to my condo four days earlier than expected.

  “Shit,” I mutter, after instinctively pushing the button.

  Hannah emerges from her room, working a towel over wet hair. “Did I hear the bell? Is someone coming up?”

  “Miranda’s back early.”

  “Oh, crap! Your girlfriend?”

  “She’s not my girlfriend.”

  “Fine. Your twisted whatever. Do you want me to hide?”

  Not sure I trust her offer with that expression. I huff a laugh. “Yeah. Go hang out in your closet for a few days. I’ll slip food under the door.”

  She rolls her eyes. “I’m just trying to help.”

  “I know what you meant. Thanks, but it’s cool. Just don’t tell her we slept together, okay?”

  “No problem, genius.”

  She gathers her hair in a ponytail and ducks back into her room. I get the knock a second later.

 

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