Page 19 of Raze
My chest tightens. I’ve cost him too much already.
The Broker’s still out there, probably laughing at how he slipped past the Wolf Riders. If I don’t fix this, Raze’s name is mud, and I’ll be the one who dragged him down.
“I need to hit the bathroom,” I say, standing slowly, testing my balance.
The whiskey’s made me a little lightheaded, but my arm’s steady enough. Dylan raises an eyebrow, but Keegan just nods, pointing down the hall.
“Second door on the left,” Dylan says.
I give them a tight smile and head out, my sneakers quiet on the concrete floor. The hallway’s dim, the noise from the bar fading as I pass the bathroom door and keep going, my heart pounding…
I’m not here to piss. I’m here to slip out.
There’s a window at the end of the hall, just around the corner, cracked open, just wide enough for me to squeeze through. I glance back, making sure no one’s following, then push it open further, wincing as it creaks.
The night air hits me, cool and sharp, and I climb through, landing softly in the gravel lot outside. I’ve still got my gun. And I might be using it too.
I’ve got a plan, reckless and stupid, but it’s all I’ve got.
I’m going to find the Broker, take him down, and prove to Raze I’m worth the trouble. If I can do this, maybe I can fix what I broke—maybe I can keep Raze from losing everything…
The lot is quiet, bikes lined up under floodlights, the neon wolf sign glaring down like it’s judging me. I stick to the shadows, moving fast, my arm throbbing but not slowing me down.
I know where the Broker might be—another dive bar, a stash house, maybe even Snake’s place. The Broker is arrogant, thinks he’s untouchable after slipping Raze. I’ve been in this game long enough to know how guys like him operate. They don’t run far, not when they think they’ve won.
My mind races, piecing together the scraps I gave Raze in the interrogation room—addresses, habits, the Broker’s love for flashy suits and cheap gin.
I can find him.
Ihaveto.
And when I do, I’ll kill him.
My boots crunch gravel as I slip past the clubhouse, heading for the highway. I’ve got no bike, no plan beyond tracking the Broker down and putting a bullet in him.
It’s a suicide mission, probably, but I’ve survived worse odds.
The memory of Raze’s arms around me, the way he carried me like I mattered, fuels me.
I can’t let Raze take the fall for me.
Not after that kiss, not after the way he looked at me when I was bleeding out.
I’ve never had anyone fight for me before, and I’m not about to let that go to waste.
I scan around and notice a motorcycle, its keys glistening, still in the ignition. Fuck, this is a risk. I’m stealing a Wolf Rider motorcycle… there might be no coming back from this.
“Here goes,” I say, turning the key and feeling the immense power of the hog’s engine roar.
I’ve got no time to waste. Not a single second, in fact.
The highway stretches out, dark and endless, the storm clouds finally breaking, a light rain starting to fall.
My .38 feels heavy against my hip, a reminder of what I’m about to do.
I’m Nico, the kid who’s always run, always survived.
But this time, I’m not running away. I’m running toward something—toward the Broker, toward redemption, toward proving to Raze that I’m more than just a hustler who got caught.
