Page 22 of Double the Dilemma

“I haven’t found anything that indicates she has, but I’m sure she’s been able to make connections over the years that would help her out,” Code replied with a grim look.

“So we don’t have any updated photos of her since she was released?” Rogue asked.

Code clicked a few more buttons. “I did a facial recognition search on all the cameras we’ve been able to tap around town, and in all federal databases, and I came up with one possible hit.” He pulled up a grainy photo of a woman standing on the sidewalk, but her face was turned mostly away from the camera, so it was definitely a guess on if it was her.

“That woman has short hair, and a bit of a rounder face,” Fury said thoughtfully. “But at least we have something to go on.”

Razor looked at the photo more closely and narrowed his eyes at a smaller detail. “Code, can you enhance that sign in the background?” he asked. Code nodded and got to work. Within a minute, the sign in the background was lit up and Razor cursed. “That’s the bar Karissa works at,” he announced.

“So the chances of that being her are much higher,” Savage summarized. “Alright, well, we need to make a plan. Razor, where do things stand with Karissa?”

Razor sighed and fell back into his seat. “I’m working on convincing her to stay here, and to give me a chance. I knew she was hiding shit, or running from something, but I didn’t know what. I think our fight in the gym got my point across, but I fully expect that she’s still going to fight me tooth and nail. And she’s going to be pissed we’re sticking our noses in.”

“Has she met us?” Ink scoffed. “This is what we do.”

“Karissa isn’t Royal, Harlow, Scarlett, or Esme,” Razor reminded them. “She can handle herself, and she’s not going to step back and let us find this bitch and deal with her on our own. She’s going to want in. She knows all about Sena and what we’ll need to do to take her down.”

“Not how we do things,” Savage said firmly. “We don’t bring women into things that could end up with them hurt.”

Razor ran his hands over his face. “You think I don’t know that?” he snapped, feeling frustrated. “If I could tell her to sit back and let us handle it, I would. The moment I tell her we’re going to handle this, she’ll be out that fucking door and won’t be back.”

“Seems like you need to grow a pair of balls and tell her this is how it’s going to be,” Rogue said lazily.

Razor’s temper burned as he glared at the man. “And that’s how it worked for you and Scarlett?” he snapped. “Or wasn’t it her that killed that bitch right in front of you?” Rogue scowled darkly at the reminder. Razor turned his head and glared at Savage. “And it was Royal who killed her sister, not you. So anyone with an Old Lady can’t say shit about allowing the women to get involved. We all picked strong women and this is what happens. Well, my woman is stronger than most, and she’s the kind that won’t hesitate in doing what needs to be done. Hell, she’ll tell all of us to fuck off and then do whatever the hell she wants.”

Suddenly a commotion outside the door had them all turning; it flew open and Sam ran in, eyes wide. Before Savage could reprimand him, Sam blurted out, “Karissa climbed out the window and took off, and Tom’s running after her. Said that you better come quick, because she’s getting away.”

Razor let out a growl of annoyance as he and everyone else stood. “This is exactly what I’m talking about,” he snapped at everyone. “I’m going to get my woman, and then I’m hauling her ass back here.”

“We’re right behind you, brother,” Savage told him, exasperation clear. “Everyone on their bikes. Razor, you and I are on foot behind her into the woods. We’ll see if we can catch her before she does something stupid.”

Razor rushed out of the room and headed for the door. Apparently their session in the gym didn’t change her mind after all. Looked like he was going to be polishing up some handcuffs, because once he got her ass back, he wasn’t going to give her the option to leave.

CHAPTERTWELVE

KARISSA

Karissa woke quickly, and everything came rushing back. She groaned and buried her face in the pillow, cursing herself for being weak. Damn it, Razor and his dick were going to be the end of her. Not to mention that was some of the hottest sex she had ever had. Even now, her body heated at the memories of their tryst.

She needed to get out of here, she told herself. She lifted her head and glanced around Razor’s room. It was still as cluttered as always, with books, magazines, and random pieces of clothing lying around. But her main observation was that Razor was absent, and she needed to leave before he came back. She looked over at the window thoughtfully. It was small, but she could fit through easily enough.

She rolled out of bed and padded over to it. Razor’s room was on the second floor, and while there was no ladder or anything to get down, his room was close enough to the end of the building that she could shimmy her way over to the drain pipe and slide down. She carefully lifted the window before sticking her head out just enough to check the drop. It was decent, and would probably leave her with a broken leg if she tried to jump. Drain pipe it was.

She pulled her head back in and looked around for her shoes. Nothing. That was fine though, because she knew she left a pair of sneakers here by accident one night when Razor brought her up here during a club party. She needed to find them without alerting anyone who might be outside that she was awake and moving around.

She checked in his closet and huffed out a breath of frustration when she didn’t find them. She was going to be pissed if he threw them away or one of the club whores stole them. She looked away from the closet, taking in the rest of the room.

Razor’s space consisted of his bed in the middle of the room, a single nightstand on the left side of it, a desk by the door that was currently cluttered with his junk, and a rickety old chair that looked like it would fall apart if anyone actually tried to sit in it. She headed for the bed, getting on her knees to look under it and let out a soft grunt when she spotted them not far underneath. She reached in and yanked them out, quickly putting them on, but she stopped when she saw what else had emerged from beneath the bed.

It was a photo. Of her. She reached down and picked it up, staring at it.

It was a photo of her laughing, head tilted back, wide smile on her face, and a beer in her hand. In front of her was Esme, who was grinning wickedly, her cut sitting proudly on her shoulders with Fury standing not far behind her. It was from day of the party for Esme being accepted as Fury’s Old Lady and getting her property cut. Karissa didn’t remember what they had been saying, but it was clear she found it hilarious. She wasn’t sure what to make of the picture, but she had to assume that Razor was the one to take it.

It made her heart clench in her chest, but she forced herself to set it down on the nightstand. Her hand froze when she saw the silver chain Razor often wore when he wasn’t working at the shop. It wasn’t ostentatious, and she couldn’t stop herself from picking it up. Her mind recalled the night he showed up at the bar, wearing his cut, this chain reflecting under the neon lights in the back of the room. And when he followed her home that night and they ended up in her bed, he finished the night wearing only this chain. At one point, she remembered him laying over her, the chain resting against her chest as he thrust inside her. The cool of the silver against the heat of her skin was heady, and she wrapped her fingers around it, using it to pull his mouth down to hers.

She blinked, forcing the memory back, and shook her head firmly. She needed to leave and stop being such a sentimental sap, she scolded herself. But she couldn’t force herself to let the chain go, and instead put it on, tucking it under the collar of her t-shirt. Fuck, she was losing it, but she wanted something of Razor’s. She might need to leave, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t admit that she would miss him.

Well, his dick anyway.

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