Page 41 of The Fixer
Klein’s jaw tightened, his hands clenching at his sides. “You don’t understand. This isn’t about betrayal—it’s about survival. Lang... he doesn’t give you a choice.”
Reyna took a step closer, her voice dropping. “You always have a choice. You just didn’t have the guts to make the right one.”
Klein’s face twisted with anger, and before Reyna could react, he lunged at her. She sidestepped his attack easily, grabbing his arm and twisting it behind his back. He cried out in pain as she shoved him against the wall.
“Big mistake,” Reyna growled, but her victory was short-lived.
The sound of heavy boots echoed down the hallway. She turned just in time to see two large men enter the lab, their faces grim and their weapons drawn. She recognized them instantly—two of the members of Lang’s crew.
“Well, this just got interesting,” she muttered under her breath.
The larger of the two men raised a gun, but Reyna moved faster. She shoved Klein aside and ducked behind a lab table as the first shot rang out, shattering glass and sending papers flying. Grabbing a metal stool, she hurled it at the man, knocking the weapon from his hand.
The second man lunged at her, but she caught his arm and twisted, slamming him into the table. The fight was fast and brutal—punches and kicks landing with bone-crunching force. Reyna’s years of training gave her the edge, but these weren’t amateurs. They fought like men who’d seen their share of violence.
Klein tried to make a run for it, but Reyna caught him out of the corner of her eye. “Not so fast, Doc,” she snarled, kicking a rolling chair into his path and sending him sprawling.
The larger man recovered his weapon, aiming it at her as she grappled with the second. Reyna grabbed a tray of instruments and flung it at him, the distraction giving her just enough time to disarm her current opponent and take him down with a sharp elbow to the jaw.
The first man cursed, firing off another shot that grazed her shoulder as she dove behind a counter. Blood seeped into her jacket, but she didn’t let it slow her down. Her eyes landed on the emergency exit at the far end of the lab.
“Time to bail,” she muttered.
With a sudden burst of speed, Reyna sprinted for the door, dodging bullets as they ricocheted off the walls. She burst into the alley behind the lab, her eyes scanning for a way out. That’s when she spotted it—a sleek black motorcycle parked a few feet away.
“Perfect.”
Reyna vaulted onto the bike, hot-wiring it in seconds as the sound of shouting grew louder behind her. The engine thundered into life, and she sped off into the night, weaving through traffic with the USB drive burning a hole in her pocket.
The adrenaline coursing through her veins didn’t fade until she reached Cerberus headquarters, the familiar sight of the club’s neon sign sending a wave of relief through her. She parked the bike in the alley and slipped inside, her mind already racing with what she’d found.
Lang’s operation was bigger than they’d realized. And if they were going to stop it, they’d have to outsmart him at his own game.
But first, she needed to see Jake and Lyndsey. This fight was far from over.
Reyna stalked into the Cerberus headquarters, her leather jacket still smeared with dirt and a faint trace of blood from the fight. Her adrenaline hadn’t fully worn off, and her mind buzzed with the images of the confrontation—the USB drive, Lang’s men, the chaotic escape.
King met her at the main desk, his sharp eyes narrowing as she handed over the USB. “This better be worth it,” Reyna muttered. “Lang’s men were all over the place. Klein’s in deep, and I had to knock some heads just to get out alive.”
King smiled, taking the USB and slipping it into his pocket. “We’ll see what’s on here. You did good, Reyna. Go get cleaned up.”
Reyna rolled her eyes. “I know the drill. I’ll be in the dungeon if you need me.”
As she turned to leave, she caught sight of Jake and Lyndsey across the room. Lyndsey’s curious gaze followed her, and Reyna resisted the urge to groan. She didn’t need an audience right now.
“What’s her deal?” she heard Lyndsey ask Jake, her voice low but not low enough.
Jake gave Reyna a knowing look as she passed. “She’s heading down to decompress.”
“Decompress?” Lyndsey asked, furrowing her brow. “What does that mean?”
Reyna groaned as she passed Jake—he could deal with her. He tilted his head toward the staircase leading to the club’s lower levels. “Come on,” he said. “If you’re curious, you can observe, and I can explain.”
She knew Jake was falling for Lyndsey and also knew that Jake’s need to be a Dom was at least as great, if not greater, than her own need to submit. If Lyndsey couldn’t understand that and reconcile with it, their relationship was doomed. Reynaliked Jake, and if watching her session could help him win Lyndsey over, then she was happy to do it.
Reyna didn’t bother turning around as Jake and Lyndsey trailed after her. She pushed through the heavy double doors into the dungeon portion of the club, the dim lighting and soft hum of music immediately wrapping her in a familiar calm. The air smelled faintly of leather and candle wax, soothing her raw and frayed nerves. She headed into the submissives’ lounge, opening her locker and slipping into her fet wear. The feeling of the corset being tightened help to ground her.
When she exited the lounge, Reyna watched as Lyndsey hesitated as she stepped inside the club, her eyes widening at the sight of the sprawling space. An ornate St. Andrew’s cross was on the center stage. Lining the walls were ropes, floggers, and other implements of discipline. Doms and subs moved gracefully through the room, some engaged in scenes, others simply observing.