Page 54 of Razor
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak yet.The adrenaline was still surging through my system, making my fingers itch for action.For my gun.For the throat of whoever had orchestrated the attack on my family.
"Need a minute," I said, veering toward the empty storage room at the back of the clubhouse.
Loch understood immediately, tapping two fingers to his chest in silent acknowledgment before peeling off to run interference.I shut the door behind me, pulling out my burner phone and hitting the speed dial for the safehouse.The ring seemed to stretch for eternity before Ophelia's voice came through, breathless and anxious.
"Razor?What happened?"
The sound of her voice hit me like a physical touch, draining away some of the tension coiled tight in my spine.My tone shifted without conscious thought, dropping to the register I used only with her and Dante.
"It's done.We got the votes."
Her relieved sob caught me off guard, the naked emotion in it squeezing something in my chest.The calculator in me—the part that had earned my road name long before I carried a blade—would have once analyzed this response for weaknesses, for leverage.Now I just wanted to be there, to hold her, to see with my own eyes that she was safe.
"You did it?"she whispered, disbelief coloring her voice."Mustang agreed?"
"He didn't have a choice."I leaned against the wall, suddenly exhausted."Family protection protocol passed by majority vote.Twenty percent of club income redirected.Full security details for all old ladies and kids."
"And what does that mean for you?"The question was careful, measured.She knew the cost of what I'd done.
Before I could answer, a shadow darkened the doorway.Mustang stood there, his imposing frame blocking the light from the hallway.His face was unreadable, but the tension in his shoulders told me everything I needed to know about his mood.
"I'll call you back," I said into the phone."Everything's fine.Just need to handle one more thing."
"Be careful," she said softly.
"Always am."I disconnected the call, slipping the phone into my cut as I faced Mustang.
For a long moment, neither of us spoke.The distant sounds of the clubhouse—brothers talking, bottles clinking, the jukebox playing some forgotten rock anthem—seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of us in a bubble of tense silence.
"Fifteen years," Mustang finally said, his voice carrying none of the rage I'd expected.Just weariness."Fifteen years, and I never once worried about where your loyalties lay."
"They haven't changed," I replied evenly."Just expanded."
He snorted, a sound somewhere between derision and grudging amusement."You're rewriting the club's entire operating procedure because of one woman and a kid that ain't even yours."
"He is mine."The words came without hesitation, with a certainty that surprised even me."And so is she.That's how family works.You claim them, they claim you, and you do whatever it takes to keep them safe."
Mustang studied me for a long moment, his face impossible to read."This better work," he finally said."This better not be you trading fifteen years of brotherhood for a piece of ass and a kid with someone else's blood."
My hands clenched into fists at my sides, but I kept my voice level."It's not about that.It's about evolving.Adapting.Finding something worth fighting for beyond territory and profit margins."
"And if it puts the club at risk?"
"It'll make us stronger," I countered."Brothers fight harder when they're protecting something that matters.When they know their families are safe, they can focus on business without distractions."
A muscle jumped in Mustang's jaw as he processed this.I'd appealed to the tactician in him, the leader who'd kept Wicked Mayhem alive through territory wars and federal investigations.Finally, he gave a curt nod.
"You better be right," he said, stepping back from the doorway."Because if this blows back on us, it's on your head."
"I know."
He turned to leave, then paused."And Razor?Don't ever pull that voting shit on me again.Next time, we talk in private first."
"Understood."
As his footsteps receded down the hallway, I leaned back against the wall, exhaling slowly.I'd won the battle, but the war was far from over.Mustang wouldn't forget this challenge to his authority.Some of the brothers would resent the resource reallocation.And our enemies would be watching for any sign of weakness during the transition.
I pulled out my phone again, dialing Ophelia back.
