Page 260 of Bitter’s Sweet

Razor tilts his head. “You bikers ain't as tight as you think.”

“Name.”

“Fuck you.”

“No.”

“Worth asking.”

CSI turns one of the phones around. Messages, burners, partial numbers, and nothing naming the source.

Razor follows my eyes.

“You got enough to know somebody likes us better than you.”

“Maybe.”

“You'll tear your own club apart looking.”

“Maybe.”

He smiles.

That is when I understand.

He is done talking, not because he has nothing else, but because the last thing he can still take from us is certainty.

Hyde sees it too.

“Anything else?” he asks CSI.

CSI shakes his head and looks at Hyde. “His contact used a burner and an alias. We don't know whether Razor ever had a real name. Keeping him alive might not get us any closer to whoever sold our codes.”

Hyde looks at Razor.

Razor smiles back.

Then Hyde looks at me.

I know that look.

I am the enforcer.

This is not the first time a problem has become mine because the conversation is over.

The difference is Sweet.

Everything feels different with Sweet attached to it.

Razor leans back as far as the restraints allow.

“How's Doll?”

My vision goes hot.

I let it cool.

“She has a name.”