Stephanie Tyler - Vipers Run

He’d rehearsed what he was going to say to her the entire ride here.

Hey, I didn’t die. Good to meet you.

Thanks for taking one for the team.

I hope you had unlimited cell phone minutes.

Because really, what did you say to someone after she offered to help you and, in return, you fucked up her entire life? Calla Benson had a bounty on her head, because the Heathen chapter up in New York knew she’d worked for Bernie. And they knew she was missing. And even if she’d run away for reasons entirely unrelated to his shit, the Heathens would be looking for her, just in case.

He had a bounty on his head too, but that was nothing new—he’d been born with it in place.

And since he still hadn’t known what to say, he’d almost turned back. As it was, he’d been avoiding Tenn for weeks. Talon too. And Preacher, even though he and Tals had visited him in the hospital, had known he wasn’t dead even before Tenn did. As soon as Cage had pulled through, they’d all walked out and now he was left with finding a way to make amends to all of them.

But Calla was first on the list. Preacher was going to kill him anyway, so what the hell difference did it make?

Calla.

She was gorgeous. He’d had beautiful women before, but Calla Benson was in an entirely different league. He’d researched her as soon as he could sit up. And he hadn’t been prepared to play bad boy from the other side of the tracks to her “I’m a rich girl pretending to be something I’m not” act.

Although maybe it wasn’t an act.

He stilled as she stared at him. The stare was expected; the softness in her eyes while she did so, not as much. He ignored that part, though, even turned his head so she could get a full look at the scars. They were barely healed, ugly as fuck—and he didn’t give a shit. His heart was still beating.

Because of the pretty, cool blond in front of him. She’d turned from soft to goddamned angry in an instant, and if looks could kill, he’d be a goner. “You’re still pissed.”

“You think?” She wasn’t scared of him. She was angry . . . because he’d hung up the phone. Because he wouldn’t let her help. Because he hadn’t gotten in touch and because Tenn had kept his secret, knowing she’d be pissed at him for it.

There were a lot of pissed-off people circling him. And here he was, prepared to add another one to the already long list. “Calla—”

“Don’t.” She took a step back. Watched him, like she was trying to take it all in. He stayed in place for her inspection, watched her watching him. Jesus, he was naked under that gaze, and somehow she didn’t goddamned know it. Yet.

Cage continued to stare at me. His stance was aggressively, blatantly sexual. All anyone would have to do was look at him to know he’d know exactly what to do with a woman in bed.

When I didn’t say anything, he walked toward me. He moved like a predator, smooth and silent, with more than a hint of danger. Big, strong, graceful. He moved like a motorcycle, sleek, fast, nimble, able to take corners on the fly.

Economy of movement while watching everything without seeming to, and missing nothing. I was vibrating. The need to reach out and touch him was overwhelming, and so I did—ran my fingers along his bare wrist. His skin was warm under my fingertips. Solid. Alive.

Most definitely alive.

Which was good, because now I was going to kill him. Unless Tenn beat me to the punch.

As if reading my mind, he said, “You can’t be angry at me for keeping a promise.”

The anger and fear that had lodged itself in the back of my mind came out swinging. “You don’t get to tell me what to do. You don’t even know me.”

“I know more about you than most, though, Calla.”

“Stop saying my name like that.”

He was enjoying this too much and I hated the way my body tugged to his. Traitorous bitch. I moved away from him quickly and grabbed the nearest thing I could reach—a glass—and threw it at him. He ducked, it shattered and then I heard a resounding “What the fuck is going on out here?”

Tenn entered, wearing only a pair of low-slung sweats, and he was looking at me, but only for a second. Then he turned his head to Cage. “Four in the fucking morning?”

Cage shrugged, his big shoulders moving fluidly. “Yeah, like you’ve got a nine-to-five thing happening here.”

“Such an asshole,” Tenn muttered, and I pretty much vacillated between agreeing and throwing myself at Cage.

I settled for getting mad at Tenn instead, because it was painfully obvious that Tenn wasn’t surprised to see Cage alive and kicking. “You knew and you didn’t say anything.” When he didn’t respond, I had my answer. The sense of betrayal overshadowed everything Tenn had done for me. “Bastards. Both of you.”

“Calla—” Cage said.

“You two belong together,” I told him.

“I don’t swing that way,” Cage said seriously.

“Impossible. Completely impossible,” I muttered.

“And here I thought you’d be happy to find me alive” was Cage’s answer.

I whirled to face him. “I’d have been happier not to have mourned you. Do you have any idea what that’s been like for me?”

Cage glanced over at Tenn and, yes, I could see he knew all about how goddamned hard it’d been. His expression was guarded. I turned back and focused on Tenn too, because neither of them was getting off the hook. “You knew what I was going through and you let me.”

Tenn looked pained. “I won’t make excuses for what I did. You came here for help. Help’s what I gave you,” he said firmly, and then he softened. “There was shit to figure out, Calla.”

“There’s always shit to figure out. You let me think he was dead.”

“That was for your own good. And it’s this asshole’s goddamned fault.” Tenn pointed at Cage, who shrugged apologetically. Tenn went to smack him in the back of the head, but Cage ducked in time.

Ducked, and still defended Tenn, telling me, “It’s not his fault.”

I refused to let Tenn off the hook, mainly because it meant dealing with Cage. “If he knew you were alive and didn’t tell me—”

“You think it was easy, letting you cry yourself to sleep every night?” Tenn announced, and that hung in the air between us. “And you—” He pointed to Cage. “Don’t get a big head over that.”

I stared at Cage, watching Tenn’s words register on his face. Then he relaxed again and said, “As much as I’d love to let you two kiss and make up, I’ve got to get Calla out of here.”

He took what seemed like a single stride over to me, and before I could move he had a hand on my arm, his grip on my biceps gentle but unmoving.

If the electricity that sparked between us was any indication of what could happen if I was alone with him again, I was in trouble. And as much as I didn’t want to know that right now, attempting to jerk away from his touch would only prove that I couldn’t. I was tired of proving my inadequacies, tired of always knowing that the other shoe always dropped. “You ruined my life. And you scared me. Anything else you’d like to do while you have the floor?”

“Your life sounded pretty busted before I came into it,” he said. And as much as the truth hurt, I hated him for being right.

“So did yours,” I shot back.

“You’re right. You gave me something to fight for, Calla. Something—someone—to come back to.”

“This is crazy. You don’t even know me.”

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since I hung up. I know what you’ve been through—I know it’s my goddamned fault, so I’ve got to make it right.”

“You made me mourn you.”

“So, what—I don’t know you, but you knew me enough to mourn me?” he asked.

I blinked, because . . . yes.

“You really didn’t fucking believe me,” he murmured. “I couldn’t call—”

“Maybe not at first. But then it became more of a—you wouldn’t call, right?” When he didn’t argue, I asked, “After you recovered, you had time to call. But you didn’t. You considered breaking your promise, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

I wasn’t surprised he didn’t deny it. I didn’t know much, but I did know that the man in front of me was a straight shooter. And that he smelled so good I wanted to lean in and lick his neck. “Why?”

“Too many reasons to go into.”

“Just because you were alive didn’t mean that you’d end up coming for me,” I whispered.

“I said I would.”

“I don’t count on promises.”

“You need to start with mine,” he said firmly.

“You need to start doing a lot of things,” Tenn said pointedly to Cage, who I swore growled. “That shit doesn’t scare me.”

“You know it should,” Cage told Tenn pointedly. “Calla, we’re out of here.”

“I don’t know if I’m leaving with you.”

“You don’t know if you’re leaving with me,” he repeated, like disagreeing with him was such a rare occurrence that he didn’t recognize it. Or acknowledge it.

“I think she’s still in the anger part of the grieving process,” Tenn offered.

“I’m not dead,” Cage said through clenched teeth.

“She thought you were,” Tenn shot back.

“So yeah, that’s why I’m not sure if I’m going with you,” I said.

“While she’s deciding, you can make some shit up to me,” Tenn said, and by the look on Cage’s face, I could tell he knew what the favor was, and he didn’t look happy about it, to say the least.

“Don’t start, man.”

“You started it.”

“Could’ve called to check,” Cage said quietly, moving slightly away from me. He still held my arm while going chest to chest with Tenn, who growled, “I did. Would’ve expected to hear from you at some point. So you want to take her out of here without her consent, you’re going up against me.”

“I’m not leaving without her.”

His words echoed—a threat and a promise. My mouth went dry. He was so damned male. Completely untamed. He looked like he’d been born on a bike, his motion fluid as he swung a jean-clad leg over and revved up.

“Then it looks like you’ll have some time to do that favor you owe me while you try to convince both me and Calla that she should leave here with you,” Tenn said steadily.

Cage stiffened next to me, the frustration coming off him in waves. “Now is not the time, Tennessee.”

But Tenn looked both unimpressed at Cage’s using his full name and also pissed as hell. “I thought you were dead, fuckwad—even after Tals knew you were alive, you made him lie to me. So go play nice for the camera. Lucky that’s all you’ve got to do.”

Cage let go of me and walked away cursing. I stared after him for a long moment before turning back to Tenn.

Tenn, who shoved a camera into my hand. “Put it on the tripod. Get everything except his face. From here up.” He put a hand on the middle of his nose. “Make sure the sound’s on too.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You wanted a job? You got it.”

I stared at Tenn, openmouthed, for a long while. It was only the slam of a door behind me that got me talking. “You’re not serious about this.”

“Dead serious.” The awful gallows humor wasn’t lost on me, but Tenn wasn’t smiling. “You stay in there with him.”

“I don’t think I can.”

“Why not? You said you needed money. You’ll get a cut of the profits.”

How much could that be, really? And when I asked, he threw out a number, telling me, “That’s only the first week.”

I headed to the room, ignoring his laughter behind me.

I had no idea what to do once I got in there. Maybe I wanted to let Cage off the hook, especially because he was muttering and pacing.

He stopped dead when he saw me with the camera. “That fucker.” He slammed the door open and yelled, “Remember that fucking hellhole in Jakarta, asshole? That’s worth a million of these.”

I heard Tenn call back, “You let me think you were dead.”

Cage slammed the side of a fist against the doorjamb, put his forehead there, and for a long moment I had no idea what was going on. Not until Tenn called, “You’re live in five.”

“I can’t fucking believe this.”

“You told me to come here,” I pointed out unhelpfully, trying not to laugh.

“No, Bernie told you,” he corrected, then mumbled, “Because I told him. Fuck.” He turned to stare at me. I ignored the butterflies in my stomach and held up the camera like a challenge.

I don’t know what I expected—maybe for him to walk out? And I wouldn’t have blamed him.