Page 81 of Grim

Her stomach twisted so violently she thought she might be sick. Her pulse hammered in her ears, loud enough to drown out everything else.

Sophia forced herself to breathe, slow and steady and controlled. Panic would get her killed. She’d seen enough violence in the ER to know what men like this were capable of. She’d seen what they left behind.

Her hands were tied to a metal chair in the center of the room. Her ankles were bound. Her cheek throbbed where someone had struck her. Her throat felt raw from screaming Switchblade’s name.

She’d never been the kind of person who went unheard. In her family, someone always answered. Here, her voice vanished into concrete.

Switchblade.

The memory hit her like a punch — the gunshot, the way he’d fallen, the way his voice had broken when he told her to run. Tears burned behind her eyes, but she blinked them back. She couldn’t fall apart. Not here. Not now.

Footsteps echoed down the hallway.

Heavy. Slow. Deliberate.

Sophia’s pulse spiked. Her fingers curled into fists even though she couldn’t move her arms.

Viper stepped into the light.

He was exactly like the man in the photo, the one with the black snake tattoo crawling up the side of his neck. The ink caught the dim light, coiling over corded muscle, unmistakable even in the shadows. Broad shoulders filled the doorway, his Reaper cut hanging open like a warning. His shaved head gleamed, his jaw sharp and cruel, and the look in his eyes made her stomach drop.

Sophia’s vision narrowed. She knew that tattoo. She knew that face. She’d seen him shaking hands with the man trading cash for cages.

His eyes were cold, flat, dead, the eyes of a man who enjoyed hurting people.

He smiled.

“Well,” he drawled, circling her like a predator. “Look who finally woke up.”

Sophia forced her voice not to shake. “Let me go.”

He laughed, a low and humorless sound that made her skin crawl. “You’re not in a position to make demands, sweetheart.”

He crouched in front of her, gripping her chin hard enough to bruise. His fingers smelled like oil and cigarettes. His nails scraped her skin.

“What did Reyes tell you?”

Sophia’s heart pounded so hard she felt it in her teeth. “Nothing.”

Viper’s smile vanished.

He slapped her.

Her head snapped to the side, pain exploding across her cheek. She tasted blood. Her eyes watered, but she refused to cry. She wouldn’t give him that.

“Try again,” he hissed.

Sophia swallowed hard, forcing her voice to stay steady. “He didn’t tell me anything.”

Viper’s jaw ticked. “Reyes had information. He told someone. And you were the last person he spoke to.”

Sophia’s breath hitched. “He didn’t—”

Viper leaned in close, his breath hot and sour against her ear. “Lying to me is a mistake.”

Before he could say more, the door burst open.

One of his men stumbled in, panting, eyes wide with panic. “Boss, we got a problem.”