Page 60 of Keeping What He Wants

Chapter Ten

Ella moaned as she opened her eyes. If they were going to kill her, then now would be a great time to do it. After vomiting everything in her stomach, she felt weak and dehydrated. She lay on the cold concrete ground with a fever and the last thing she wanted to do was move. The humid warehouse did nothing for her but make her sicker. The bite of the flex cuffs into her wrists left her mostly immobile. The ringleader of the circus had the gun out and pointed at her. Why he didn’t take the shot, she didn’t understand.

The door opened to the room they’d kept her in, and all she could see were black boots walking toward her. She closed her eyes, uncaring of what they wanted. They could do just about anything to her right now and it wouldn’t be worse than the way she felt.

“Don’t tell me you’ve used up that spark my son likes before I got here?”

She didn’t even open her eyes. “Why waste my personality on you?”

Razor had pulled on leather gloves, which she supposed was to scare her. It didn’t. “You think he’s coming for you? To save you like some fucking white knight.”

“Yes.” She groaned. “And he’ll kill you this time. There won’t be any hesitation.”

“I don’t know about that. Ryker isn’t much of a killer. I handed him a gun when he was twenty-three and told him to finish off one of our enemies. The guy was married. Had two kids and a wife. He was a dumb fuck that couldn’t pay for the dope he abused. Anyway, Ryker struggled with pulling the trigger. I finally had to take the gun from him and shoot the shithead myself. This was right after your little stunt of rebellion against your daddy.”

She swallowed and her throat felt like sandpaper. Ella tried to push up from the ground, but her arms were weak. Of all the times for her to face the bastard, she had to be sick.

He walked over and squatted beside her face. “You prevent him from being the leader he needs to be. He turned my motorcycle club into a frat house. He spends more time with you than he does with them, and their fucking reputation on the street makes other ruthless gangs laugh. You did this to my club. He chose you instead of the Roaming Devils.”

Ella glanced up at him. “You’re still butthurt over him taking it from you?”

Razor slapped her face and she cringed at the sting. He could do whatever he wanted. She didn’t have the strength or energy to fight him.

“I thought he knew how to lead. I thought I taught him how to be a real man, but you’ve turned him into a pussy. And for what? What the hell do you get out of it?”

Ella didn’t respond. She closed her eyes and tried to ignore his looming presence. He was batshit crazy, and there was no reasoning with a man like that. He would forever blame her for his son not doing what he wanted. For his son not being like him. In her mind, that was a good thing. Razor was fucked up.

“You want his babies.” Razor said it almost like he was mystified by the idea. “You want the next generation of presidents of the Roaming Devils Atlanta chapter in your control.”

“Yes. I’m an evil bitch that is going to take down your little club with my future children.”

Razor grabbed her by the throat and squeezed. Ella flailed, kicking at him as her eyes opened to see into his. “I set him up with Beth nearly a three years ago. She’d been new to the club but not the scene. She knew how to fuck. I thought he’d appreciate that, and he did.”

Ella struggled for breath as she flailed.

“She was supposed to have the next generation. Everyone knew he didn’t use condoms and it would be so fucking easy for her to get pregnant and have his baby. Fucked him nonstop for at least three days straight.” He squeezed tighter. “She got pregnant. Miscarried it about eight weeks in.”

Ella lifted her leg and kicked at him with all her might. He let her go, shoving her head back against the concrete. Air filled her lungs as she gasped for breath. Razor watched with indifference. Her head pounded. She saw droplets of blood on the concrete beside her.

“What is his fascination with you?” Razor pulled out a large bowie knife and tested the blade with his finger. “It can’t be that you’re a good fuck. Beth was a good fuck, and he didn’t even bat an eye at her in the past couple of days. Not even after she practically humped him at the club.”

Ella groaned as she tried to move. “Ryker loves me.”

Razor laughed. “Ryker doesn’t know what love is. Not the bullshit you fantasize about. He loves the club. That’s what his version of love is.”

“And you’re proud of that? You had a son and you don’t give a shit about him. You taught him that murder and drugs and whores were the way to live life. That was the life he should want. You didn’t give him an option. You’re a controlling, sociopathic bastard that deserves to die after all you put him through. But he saved your life. He cared about you even when all you care about is yourself and your reputation and your fucking club.”

Razor was silent for what felt like an eternity. “Is that little speech supposed to make me like you better? You gave my son a heart?”

“Your son has lived his entire life caring for other people without having anyone truly care about him. That’s why I fascinate him—as you put it. I love him unconditionally.”

Razor took in what she said. She saw what little brainpower he had that hadn’t been fried by drugs trying to sort it all out. The situation with Beth was one thing: He’d been right to tell her to leave the club. She saw how much Ryker liked the woman. He wasn’t a coldhearted bastard. And there was nothing about him that would make her assume he’d want the kid to grow up in same bullshit he’d grown up in. He’d take care of the kid by keeping it away. Protecting it.

“You love him unconditionally. He must be so lucky.” He licked his lips. “He must be so fucking lucky that you, a cop’s daughter, care about him when nobody else does.”

“I am lucky.”

Ella turned to see Ryker standing there, attention on Razor.

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