Page 51 of Razor
"Mrs.Weathers, we don't want to frighten your son.Please come out voluntarily."
The false concern in his voice made anger flare hot in my chest, burning away the last traces of the frightened woman I'd been with Tyler.That woman would have opened the door, would have surrendered to avoid conflict.That woman was gone.
"I have authorization to use necessary force," he continued, his tone hardening slightly."Don't make this difficult."
The doorknob turned again, more forcefully this time, rattling against the makeshift barricade I'd created.I widened my stance, balancing my weight evenly as Razor had taught me.Behind the shower curtain, Dante remained perfectly silent—my brave, perfect boy who deserved better than to live in fear.
I thought of Razor, of the life we'd started building together.Of his brothers who had become my protectors.Of my own brother who had mobilized his entire club to keep us safe.I wasn't alone anymore, wasn't defenseless.
The door shuddered as a shoulder slammed against it, the shower rod bending but not yet giving way.Another hit would break through.I raised the tank lid higher, muscles tensing.
Terror fell away as determination took hold, maternal instinct overriding every fear.This man might have training, might have weapons, might have been hired by the people who should have protected me but never did.But he didn't have what I had—the absolute, unshakable certainty that nothing and no one would take my son from me again.
The door splintered inward, the shower rod clattering to the floor as the doorknob twisted and the door began to open.
Dante screamed and clung to me.A man yanked open the shower and snatched Dante from my arms.I cried out and tried to grab hold, but I missed.Another man gripped my arm, hauling me out of the shower.I watched, feeling helpless, as the man ahead of us carried Dante away from me with long strides.When we made it outside, I knew I had a choice to make.I could stay with Dante, or I could make a run for it.
Everything in me screamed to stay with my boy, and I knew I couldn’t leave him behind.I waited until the perfect moment, then I kicked the man dragging me along, threw a punch that glanced off his jaw, and I ran for Dante.The guy holding him lashed out, kicking me in the stomach.The breath left me in awhoosh, and I collapsed on the ground, gasping and wheezing for air.
“Stupid bitch.”The man I’d escaped from caught up and leaned down to glare at me.Without another word, he punched me in the face, and everything went dark.
I didn’t know how much time had passed, but when I came to, Dante and the men were gone… and I’d been left alone on the ground.I didn’t know why they’d taken my son and left me behind.I’d thought they wanted both of us.
Where are you, Dante?Mommy will get you back no matter what!
But first, I needed to find Razor.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Razor
I pushed through the clubhouse chapel doors, the familiar smell of stale cigarettes and leather hitting me like a physical wave.Brothers turned to stare, conversations dying mid-sentence as I strode toward the table where Mustang presided like a king on his throne.The silence spread like oil on water, thick and suffocating.This wasn't how things were done.You didn't just storm into Church without being summoned.You didn't challenge the president.Not if you wanted to keep wearing your cut.But some things mattered more than tradition, more than protocol.More than the patches on my back.
"What the fuck is this?"Mustang's voice cut through the chapel, his eyes narrowing as I approached.He straightened in his chair, both hands flat on the table in a show of controlled authority.
I didn't answer immediately, taking my time to scan the faces around the table.Ace, our VP, watched with guarded interest.Fury's massive frame tensed, ready for whatever came next.Loch and Torque exchanged glances, their expressions carefully neutral but their body language alert.Socket kept his eyes on his hands, while Screwball shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
"Emergency meeting," I finally said, stopping at the edge of the table.I placed my hands on the polished wood, leaning forward to meet Mustang's cold stare."Club business that can't wait."
"I decide what's emergency business," Mustang countered, his finger tapping once, twice against the table—the only sign that my interruption had rattled him."Not you."
"Three attacks in the past week," I said, ignoring his response.I pulled documents from my cut and spread them across the table.Police reports.Insurance claims.Security footage stills."Warehouse raided.Golden Apple vandalized.Supply routes compromised.This isn't random.It's coordinated."
Mustang's jaw tightened as he glanced at the evidence, then back at me."We've weathered worse."
"Different this time."I pointed to timestamps on the security stills."Simultaneous hits.Professional.Military precision.They're targeting more than our business."
Ace leaned forward, picking up one of the photographs."He's right.This isn't street-level retaliation.This is strategic."
"And?"Mustang's voice had an edge that would have made most men back down."We adjust.We hit back.Same as always."
I straightened, looking each brother in the eye as I spoke."They hit the safehouse.Socket and Pierce nearly died.And they took Ophelia and Dante."
The tension in the room shifted, brothers exchanging glances as they processed what this meant.An attack on club property was one thing.An attack on family was something else entirely.
"Got them back," Mustang said dismissively."Problem solved."
"Problem's just beginning," I countered, my voice dropping to a register that made several brothers shift uneasily in their seats."They came for my family.They'll come for yours next."I looked at Torque."Your wife."At Fury."Your sister."At Loch."Your mother."
