Page 60 of Razor
I dropped to one knee without conscious thought, arms opening just in time to catch him as he launched himself at me with complete faith I wouldn't let him fall.His small body collided with mine, arms wrapping around my neck with surprising strength.I lifted him easily, one arm supporting his weight while my other hand instinctively checked him over for any sign of harm—a habit formed in the days since he'd been taken.
"Hey, hot rod," I managed, my voice rougher than intended."You were supposed to stay put."
Dante pulled back just enough to fix me with a solemn stare, his eyes—so like Ophelia's—serious beyond his years."Loch said you were getting the bad guys.I wanted to see."
"Did he now?"I shot a look over Dante's shoulder at Loch, who approached with a shrug that suggested he'd explain himself later.The reprimand I'd planned died on my lips when Dante's small hands framed my face, demanding my full attention.
"Did you get them?"he asked, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper."The bad guys?"
I nodded, adjusting my grip to hold him more securely against the continuing rain."Yeah, we got them.The bad guys can't hurt you or your mom anymore."
His face lit up with a smile that hit me directly in the chest, cracking through whatever remained of the cold, calculating exterior I'd spent fifteen years perfecting."I knew you would," he said, with the absolute confidence of a child who hadn't yet learned that adults could fail, could break promises, could disappear when needed most.
"Dante?"Ophelia's voice reached us as she crossed the distance between us, her face a study in conflicting emotions—relief at seeing her son, concern that he was here at all, and something softer as she took in the sight of him in my arms.
"Mommy!"Dante reached for her while maintaining his grip on me, creating a bridge between us that forced Ophelia to step directly into our space, completing the circle.She wrapped one arm around his small frame, the other automatically reaching for my shoulder to steady herself on the rain-slick ground.
For a moment, we stood like that—a tableau of family against the backdrop of police lights and the dismantling of everything that had threatened us.I became aware of cameras turning in our direction—local news crews who had gathered at the perimeter, capturing footage of the prominent businessman's downfall.Tomorrow, this image would likely appear on screens across the region: the outlaw biker, the elegant daughter of privilege, and the small boy between them.
"I'm sorry," Loch said as he approached, though his expression suggested he wasn't sorry at all."Kid woke up asking for both of you.Wouldn't stay put.Figured if things were secure enough for you two to be here, it was secure enough for him."
I should have been angry, should have reminded him that security protocols existed for a reason, that the threat wasn't completely neutralized until we confirmed every loose end was tied.Instead, I found myself nodding, something fundamental having shifted in my calculation of risk versus necessity.
"We shouldn't stay long," I said, scanning the perimeter with the hypervigilance that had kept me alive through situations far more dangerous than this.Old habits died hard, even in victory."Too many cameras.Too many unknown variables."
Ophelia's eyes met mine over Dante's head, a silent communication passing between us.She understood my caution wasn't paranoia but protection, that even with her parents in custody, their world had tentacles that might still reach for us.She nodded once, her hand squeezing my shoulder in acknowledgment.
"Can we go home now?"Dante asked, his head resting against my shoulder, the adrenaline of the moment clearly fading into exhaustion."I'm hungry."
Home.The word still hit me sideways sometimes.After fifteen years of moving between the clubhouse and whatever apartment served as temporary shelter, the concept of home had become abstract at best.Now it had shape and substance—Ophelia's laughter in the kitchen, Dante's toys scattered across the living room floor, ceiling stars arranged in actual constellations because accuracy mattered even in child's play.
"Yeah, hot rod," I said, adjusting him more securely against my chest as we turned to leave."Let's go home."
Media cameras continued to track us as we walked toward the waiting SUVs, capturing what looked like a family simply leaving a chaotic scene.They couldn't know what it had cost to reach this moment—the blood, the planning, the systematic dismantling of an empire built on corruption and cruelty.They couldn't see the hypervigilant sweep of my eyes across every potential threat vector, the way Ophelia's spine remained ramrod straight despite her exhaustion, the lingering wariness in Loch's posture as he flanked our right side while Fury materialized to cover our left.
The rain continued to fall as we reached the vehicles, washing over the scene, over us, over the last visible traces of the Weathers' influence.As I secured Dante in the back seat, his small hand clutching mine with complete trust, I allowed myself the smallest acknowledgment of what we'd accomplished.
We'd protected what was ours.We'd rewritten the ending they'd planned for us.We'd forged something stronger from the pieces they'd tried to shatter.
We'd become a family.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Razor
I hit the main gate at 0600 hours, the weight of my Glock a familiar pressure against my lower back as I punched in the code.The compound lay quiet in the early morning light, dew still clinging to the chrome of the bikes lined up against the eastern wall.Security cameras tracked my movement across the yard—three visible ones and four hidden that most brothers didn't even know existed.Old habits die hard.The calculator in me still catalogued entry points, blind spots, response times.Only now, those calculations included evacuation routes for kids and a defensive perimeter that protected playground equipment alongside our weapons cache.
The clubhouse door yielded to my key, the heavy reinforced steel swinging open to reveal the main room.I paused, listening for any sounds that didn't belong.Nothing but the hum of the refrigerators in the bar and the faint electronic chirp of the security system acknowledging my entry code.I moved through the space with practiced efficiency, checking locks, testing the panic buttons we'd installed under each table, confirming the emergency exit routes remained clear.
The new wing branched off the main hall, its entrance marked by a hand-carved wooden sign reading "Future Road Captains."Socket's work—the man could wire an entire security system or craft delicate woodwork with the same steady hands.I pushed through the door, immediately noting the difference in atmosphere.Walls painted blue and green instead of the clubhouse's usual dark wood paneling.Carpet instead of hardwood.Windows with actual fucking curtains.
But underneath the family-friendly veneer, our security protocols remained intact.I checked each window—double-paned, shatterproof glass, with sensors that would trigger if broken.The locks were high enough to keep small hands from reaching them, but accessible for quick evacuation if needed.I tested the baby monitors—state-of-the-art systems that Socket had modified himself.Not just audio but video feeds that transmitted to our secure server and the phones of designated members.
"Clear," I muttered to myself, moving to the connecting door that led to the playground area.Outside, morning light spilled across playground equipment that looked surreal against the backdrop of the fortified compound walls.A swing set.A slide.A sandbox.All within a perimeter secured by eight-foot fencing topped with razor wire disguised by climbing plants—Ophelia's idea.Make it secure without making it look like a prison.
I spotted Pierce and J.D.at their posts near the north and east corners, both nodding respectfully as I conducted my inspection.Their eyes remained alert, scanning constantly despite the early hour and apparent calm.They'd learned well.Both wore their cuts with pride, but now they also carried the responsibility of protecting not just brothers but their children.The stakes had changed.Everything had.
"Perimeter secure?"I called to Pierce.
