Page 2 of Razor's Ride

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“Vulture,” she said in a shaky voice.

Razor knew how to play this game, to use the same language as these scum bags who masqueraded as men.

“And how did you become Vulture’s property?” Razor asked.

“Little Nat here owed me a huge debt,” Vulture said, joining them once more.

Razor noticed blood splatters lingered on his cut. Not his. More covered his hands and face. Razor wouldn’t be too surprised if the bastard appeared this way on purpose. Vulture returned to his seat and tugged Nat to him, making her sit on his lap. She looked awkward as hell.

Vulture ran his bloody fingers down the strings of her halter top. She shuddered in revulsion, and Razor cracked his knuckles.

“What’s this about?” Vulture asked Rat.

“Razor here seems to have a thing for your toy,” Rat said.

Razor wanted to break every bone in Rat’s face at that moment.

“We didn’t come here for whores,” King injected. “We got plenty of women at home. Right,Razor?”

Razor recognized that tone of finality. King practically told him to disengage from whatever it was he was doing. He wasn’t a fool. Razor knew these assholes would dangle this poor woman like a piece of meat if it meant having something on them.

“King’s right,” he finally said.

“Good for you,” Vulture said. Rat’s VP looked like his opposite. Tall, bald, lean but muscled and covered in scars and ink, Vulture looked like scum that just crawled out of prison. “But let me tell you, man, you’re missing out. Her pussy’s amazing.”

Nat numbly stared at the wallpaper while Vulture talked about her, like she was imagining herself in a different place. Razor knew that look. He’d seen it so often on his mother’s face when his useless and miserable sack of a father used his fists on her.

Razor eventually toughened himself up and threw that jerk out of the trailer, then beat him up so bad that he never returned again. His momma always called him her savior, but he didn’t think he could do the same for Nat. The stakes were too high.

“Razor doesn’t like sloppy seconds,” King said.

“Is that right? And King speaks for you all the time?” Rat asked.

Razor clenched his jaw. “King just has my best interests at heart. Besides, I’m not interested in a woman who already answers to someone else.”

Rat nodded, changing the topic. He probably believed the matter to be settled, but it wasn’t the same for Vulture. Vulture kept Nat on his lap the entire time just to unsettle Razor, but he put his game face on and pretended to look bored.

Deep down, Razor wanted to truss Vulture up like a turkey and make him squeal. Razor was no stranger to making people talk. The talk went on until evening, and Razor barely listened to a word Rat or Vulture had said. He kept his gaze trained on Nat the entire time.

He knew he shouldn’t, but he kept picturing her under Vulture’s mercy, and the wrath inside him only festered. Grew to astronomical proportions.

Let it go, Razor kept telling himself, you can’t save her. Nat had dug her own grave, allowing a man like Vulture to control her life. Still, even as the meeting ended and as King and Rat shook hands, Razor couldn’t stop thinking about her.


Tags: Winter Sloane Romance