Den of Vipers

by K.A. Knight

He knows what I am—death. Ryder might be the face, Garret might be the enforcer, the muscle, and Kenzo the dealer…but me? I’m the fucking Grim Reaper.

When you’re a kid, they tell you stories of monsters hiding under your bed or in the dark. They don’t tell you of the very real human ones. Those who prey on people weaker than them, or even the monsters that hide within ourselves.

“Last warning, Roxxane—do not push us. We have been kind so far, now? All bets are off, you are about to see what the Vipers are really like, and you only have yourself to blame. You’re fair game now, little prey, better run.” He winks.

My pussy basically starts a Garrett fan club then, pom poms and all.

“Keep pushing, Little Bird. You’re the only one who can get through to him, and if you don’t, we might lose him forever.”

Those who love us have the opportunity to hurt us the worst, and in my experience, they always do.