Page 15 of Razor
“Dakota! For god’s sake, can a man get a beer? I’m running on empty here,” a drinker at the other end of the bar called, holding a glass stein with barely an inch left of the golden liquid.
“On my way, Al.” Dakota waltzed away with a small wave.
After finishing his coffee, Razor checked his messages. Nothing. Worry pricked at the back of his mind. Had she fallen again? Was she running away from him?
He slid off the stool and headed back toward the clinic. Razor debated whether he should drive back to her house to check on her welfare. He didn’t want to scare her away. As he reached Inferno’s back door, his phone buzzed.
* * *
Hi, Razor. No problem. It’s been a tough day here. Tomorrow would work better for me as well. Where should I meet you?
* * *
Razor smiled at the message. She’d answered. Perhaps his luck was changing. He’d never expected to find his Little girl. Now, he’d met Honey and couldn’t imagine a future without her.
Chapter 5
Wraith led the way to the meeting spot with the Ravagers. The tension bunched in the large man’s already massive shoulders. Razor’s own hovered around his ears, and he shrugged to disperse the negative energy building in his body. He understood why Lucien had chosen each of the Devil Daddies on this mission. That didn’t make the situation any less dangerous. The team Lucien had created gave each of them a better chance of surviving.
A turf war between two MCs seemed so corny. Like the conflict in so many adventure and dark romance novels. The stakes were high now since the Ravagers had proven themselves unable to live and let be. They weren’t vying for the same members. The Devil Daddies only allowed men that fit a particular profile. Dominant, driven, and Daddy.
The Ravagers collected a ragtag group of bikers more on the vicious, random violence side. That didn’t mean the Devils couldn’t compete at the same level. They used violence as a tool for a different purpose.
Wraith slowed and turned off the highway onto a road shrouded in darkness. Their headlights pierced through the shadows. Everyone’s heads pivoted on a swivel as they kept an eye out in all directions to avoid an ambush. When they reached the clearing about a mile deep into the woods, they were alone.
They parked their bikes to illuminate the entrance. Razor swung his leg over his bike to meet Wraith and Fury in the middle. Dead Eye and Pirate would be close. They’d hiked in from a different angle a few hours ago to take their places.
Wraith checked his phone. “They’re late,” he pointed out.
Minutes ticked by as they waited.
“Think they’re coming?” Wraith asked.
“Chickenshits, probably not,” Fury said.
“Lucien isn’t going to be happy,” Razor said before focusing on a flapping piece of paper pinned to a tree. “Is that a note?” He reached into his pocket to grab a pair of surgical gloves.
As he pulled them on, Wraith shook his head. “Of course, you have medical supplies in your cut.”
“Of course,” Razor said. “I don’t trust them. It would be too easy to coat that with some of the garbage they’re importing to take out the delegates Lucien sent.” He grabbed a plastic bag from an inside pocket and handed that to Wraith. “Open that for me.”
Striding across the clearing closely followed by Wraith and Fury, Razor rolled his eyes at the massive knife buried into the wood. He took a position upwind before observing, “Someone’s making up for having a micro penis.” As the two men behind him shook with laughter, he read the pinned message aloud.
* * *
Sorry I missed you.
Viper
* * *
“What the fuck?” Fury asked.
Razor tugged out his phone and snapped a picture before collecting the note.
Razor didn’t pull the weapon out. That would only shake the paper, scattering any substance that might cling to the sheet. He pinched the bottom with both hands and gently drew it down. The knife sliced the top of the page, freeing it. Quickly, Razor stowed it into the plastic bag along with his gloves.
Wraith sealed it carefully and held it up to a beam of light. “Am I imagining it, or is there white powder in there?”
