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“I’ll get her settled down first,” Razor said.
A tic appeared in King’s jaw. Razor had been the MC’s sergeant-in-arms for almost a decade. King couldn’t just push or order him around like a prospect or newly patched member.
“Fine, but don’t keep me waiting,” King said, shoving his way past them.
Once in his room, Nat sat on the edge of his bed. She looked apprehensive again, and Razor blamed King for that.
“I’m trouble,” she whispered.
Razor sat next to her. King could wait a little longer.
Nat continued, “Me being here puts you and the rest of you MC in danger.”
“Yeah,” Razor admitted. He wasn’t about to lie to Nat, not now or ever. He didn’t know much about relationships. Before her, he had been content with one-night stands and quickies, but he did know lies built a shaky foundation. “But so what?”
She stared at him, eyes wide. “I can’t believe you just said that.”
Razor shrugged. “We’re big boys, Nat. We can take care of ourselves. It’s not the first time an MC member put his woman first and endangered his club. I’ll remind King of that.”
“Am I that?” she asked him.
“What?” he asked, furrowing his brow, surprised when she touched his face.
“Your woman?” she whispered.
“You don’t like it when I call you that?” Razor asked.
“I do, but I’m scared,” she answered.
At least she was honest at least. He leaned in close and kissed her. Fuck, but she tasted like wild cherries. Razor doubted he could get enough of her. He pulled away afterward because if he didn’t, he’d end up making King wait for a long time.
“You don’t have to be scared when you’re with me.” He rose to his feet. “I’ll be right back. Make yourself at home.”
Razor exited his room, loath to leave her, but he also needed to convince King that Nat wasn’t going anywhere. King’s office was right at the end of the hall. Razor knocked on the door and entered. He noticed the glass in King’s hand and the bottle of whisky next to it.
“Drinking this early?” Razor asked him. He’d been surprised to see King home. Razor knew the club had an important delivery to make today. He guessed King left Brick to oversee that job.
“That woman’s trouble,” King said, not bothering to mince his words.
Razor settled in one of the chairs facing King’s desk. King didn’t offer him a drink, but Razor wasn’t offended. He didn’t intend to linger here long. Nat waited for him.
“Sure,” Razor said. “But I already knew that when I stuck out my neck for her. She called me, King. I couldn’t leave her to die in that awful place.”
“Vulture won’t be happy once he finds out his old toy’s still alive,” King finally said. “Do you have any idea what kind of mess you dragged us into?”
“This a lecture?” Razor asked. “I don’t regret my actions, King. Tell me honestly, if you were in my shoes, would you just ignore her plea for help?”
Strangers who didn’t know King well often wrote him off as an emotionless, savage bastard. Razor had worked with him long enough to know King did have a heart somewhere in his chest.
Razor then remembered being observed at the hospital parking lot. Instinct told him it might’ve been one of Vulture’s spies. Even if the truth was out of the bag, he didn’t care. Vulture could come after him as many times as he wanted. Razor would hold his ground. After what Vulture did to Nat, he should’ve known his life was forfeit.
Razor was actually looking forward to hunting the poor bastard down. King suddenly let out a chuckle, returning Razor’s attention to him.
“You have that familiar look in your eyes,” King said. “That you’re excited to fuck someone up.”
“You don’t worry about a damn thing, King. Vulture’s mine. He dies by my hand, but I can’t do this alone. I need to know if the MC has my back or not,” Razor said bluntly.
King seemed to consider him for a few moments. “Tell me one thing first. What makes this woman so damn special?”
