Page 71 of Hell On Heels
Razor eased back where he could look at her. “What are you talking about?”
“Everyone will know about you being part ofThe Red Door,” she said softly.
“They already know that. I just choose not to discuss it, and no one else dares to,” Razor told her.
She was somewhat relieved by the news. Still, she worried how they would get past this—how long before someone started looking for Shannon and came asking questions?
“Can’t we just call the cops? Shannon was about to shoot me.”
“Yes, but I shot and killed her, not you.”
“We can stage it where it looks like I shot her.”
“Listen to me, we’ll take care of everything,” he told her. “What I need from you is to trust me and let me handle this… for us.”
Lottie nodded her head. She knew the deal from when she and Sway were locked down in the safe house. The chapter would take care of everything. She just needed to keep her head down and her mouth shut. She could do that. For her. For Razor.
Chapter Forty
The staircase leading up to the upstairs apartment was tucked on the back side of the building, hidden from the street view. No one ever really paid attention to the back entrance unless they had a reason to.
Truck's hands moved swiftly as he stretched the white tenting over the back steps, Hemlock right behind him, securing each corner with practiced precision. The air was thick with the scent of fresh plastic and the low hum of distant traffic.
"Make sure the edges are tight, Hemlock," Truck muttered, his focus unshaken. "We don’t want anyone getting curious."
Hemlock gave a slight nod, his eyes scanning the area for any movement. The building behind them loomed dark and quiet, the night felt heavy, almost as if it was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.
The last thing they needed was someone stumbling across the scene before the evidence was properly handled. The tent was nearly in place now, taut and covering every step, every inch that might otherwise have exposed something they didn’t want seen.
Truck turned to Hemlock, his brow furrowed. "You double-checked the perimeter?"
"Yeah. No signs of movement," Hemlock replied, his eyes still scanning the surroundings. He seemed oddly calm, but Truck knew that was just the surface. Underneath, Hemlock was probably running a dozen mental checks at once.
Truck nodded. "Good. We can’t afford mistakes on this one."
With the last corner anchored down, the white tenting stood like an immovable wall. It wasn’t just about hiding the crime—it was about control. Keeping things contained. Keeping their secrets safe.
"Alright, let's get this done," Truck said, his tone firm as he reached for the tools they’d need to start the real work.
Razor stepped out the back door of the auto shop and waved both Truck and Hemlock inside. Once they were in the garage, he closed the door. He glanced back at Lottie who was wrapped in the blanket off to the side. “Here’s the deal, Hemlock you’re not helping with the cleanup. I am.”
When Hemlock tried to argue Razor cut him off. “This is my mess and I’ll help clean it.”
“What do you need from me then?” Hemlock asked.
“I need you to be me,” he told him. “Take my bike and Lottie. Go through Old City make sure you’re seen. Keep your face covering in place. Lottie’s helmet has a face shield but people will be able to see her.”
“Where am I taking her?”
“Take her to the clubhouse. But don’t uncover your face…”
“I know the deal, Razor,” Hemlock told him. “I’ll take good care of both your ladies.”
“You better,” was all Razor said before walking over to Lottie. They’d already discussed what was gonna happen and she had agreed. Giving her a kiss, he took the blanket and helped her with the helmet.
The faster they left the garage, the better everyone would be. “I’ll see you back at the clubhouse.
“See ya there,” was all she said as she headed for the door with Hemlock.
