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Chapter Ten
“Until this blows over, I want you to stay here at the clubhouse. Is that clear?” Razor demanded.
Nat crossed her arms over her breasts, silent fury in her eyes. God, she looked magnificent, glaring at him like that. It was clear his woman intended to stand her ground, but Razor refused to give in.
They got lucky last night. The young man he’d chased through the streets wasn’t much of a threat, just a prospect who didn’t know his way around a gun. Did Vulture send him? Razor couldn’t piece the puzzle together.
Vulture wasn’t a patient man. Razor knew his kind. Vulture would’ve tracked Nat himself and killed her, so why send an inexperienced prospect in his place? That would only paint Vulture as a coward and men like that cared about their reputations.
Either way, there was no use overthinking it. By now, Vulture would see the photos. He’d know that he hadn’t managed to get rid of Nat after all.
“Razor, Mrs. Lowe needs help at the café,” she argued.
“Grizzly volunteered for that job,” he answered.
“I’ll lose the only job I ever liked because my psycho ex-abuser is after me? Isn’t it better if I stand my ground, pretend everything’s normal?” she asked him.
Razor shook his head, his resolve unshaken. He knew this argument was getting nowhere. It was their first real fight, Razor realized. He supposed fights occurred in any relationship. It was bound to happen. Eliminating the distance between them, Razor placed a hand on her cheek and looked right into her gray-green eyes.
She started, surprised. Razor mashed his mouth against hers. She hesitated for a few moments, then kissed him back. When he parted from her, he rested his forehead against hers. Did she know how important she was to him? That the thought of her dying in his arms scared him shitless?
Razor didn’t scare easily, but the prospect of losing Nat after finding her terrorized him completely.
“Nat, I love you too damn much. If anything happened to you, I wouldn’t know what to do,” he told her, letting her hear the fear and urgency in his voice. “You won’t lose your job. I’ll explain the situation to Mrs. Lowe.”
“I don’t intend to die any time soon,” she admitted. “I like my life the way it is now.”
“Just do this for me, okay?” he asked. Razor seldom begged anyone, but he needed Nat to understand the gravity of the situation.
Nat took a step back, lower lip trembling. She certainly didn’t like what Razor was asking of her, but she understood this was serious. “You really think that biker was after me last night?” she asked. “That he wanted to kill me?”
“He was there for surveillance. Heck, he was no killer. I wanted to apprehend him, ask him questions. Too bad he got away,” Razor said. “It’s safe to assume Vulture has the pictures. He knows you’re taking refuge here but even he’s not foolish enough to storm the clubhouse.”
“You sure of that?” she asked him.
“Absolutely. The compound is built like a fortress. Vulture would need to take every single Black Dogs MC member to take us down. I doubt Rat would give him that much free rein.” Vulture seemed reckless, but Rat was MC President for a reason. That cunning bastard wouldn’t thoughtlessly wage war on the Ruthless Reapers just because his Vice President failed to kill his former toy.
“This is all happening because of me,” she whispered. Nat sat on the edge of his bed, their bed now. She didn’t know it yet, but she’d already permanently moved into his life and in his heart. They might not have known each other for that long, but Razor knew they were fated to meet. Nat was destined to become his old lady.
Razor sat next to her and held her hand. “We both knew this day was coming. Let me handle this. It’s what I do best.”
“Just be careful out there, okay?” she whispered.
“Always,” Razor promised her.
****
An hour later, Razor left the clubhouse with a small crew. Two other bikers accompanied him to patrol around town. King agreed with the extra security measures. “Lately, we’ve become lax, overconfident,” King had told him before Razor left the compound.
“Let’s split up here,” Razor told Tank and Gunner. “You know your duties.”
His men nodded back at him. Razor had been in charge of patrolling the west side of town, the residential areas. None of them were going to leave a stone unturned.
For all Razor knew, Vulture and a few of his select men had slipped into town in the early hours of the morning. Even if that was true, Razor intended to weed them all out. Finally put an end to all of this so Nat could finally live out the rest of her life in peace.
His patrol had been disappointing. Razor had cruised past quiet neighborhoods and had even interviewed some folks who were in. None of them saw anything or anyone suspicious.
Razor met back up with his crew for lunch at the MC’s favorite diner. They picked an unoccupied booth in the back, one that had a good view of the entrance and the rest of the place. After placing their orders, he looked at Gunner and Tank expectedly.
