Page 3 of Double the Dilemma

CHAPTERTWO

KARISSA

Present Day

He was here again. She wanted to scream at him to leave. Yet at the same time, she wanted to climb into his lap and sink into him. It was a dangerous mix, especially when she was emotional and feeling a sense of dread and doom. She had been for days, and it brought back her nightmares full force. So much so, she had started locking her door and putting a chair under it, along with setting up small booby traps just in case.

She couldn’t be too careful. Especially when she felt this way. She never doubted her gut. It was the only reason she was still alive.

Her life after leaving foster care wasn’t easy, but it led her here. She didn’t want to leave, but would if needed. She’d started over countless times before, but this time, it would hurt. Esme and Gabe were here, and the thought of leaving them cut her deep. It was probably why she stayed here so long.

When she met Esme by chance three years ago, she had no idea how her life would change. They connected immediately, and she instinctively knew Esme was on the run. Karissa never told Esme the whole truth about what she was running from, didn’t want her to know. Karissa could protect her and Gabe just fine.

Esme was shacked up with her new man, and maybe they didn’t need her anymore. Fury, Enforcer for the Dragons MC, proved himself by taking down Esme’s ex and a leader in the cartel, so it wasn’t like Esme would be unprotected if she left. Hell, even Gabe would be fine. He had, after all, saved himself after his grandfather kidnapped him. Killing him to get free and make it so the man could never come after them again.

Which brought her thoughts back to the man sitting at the end of the bar, watching her as he sipped his beer. Razor, the man who made her want things she had no business even considering.

She didn’t know how he became a biker exactly, but she had heard more than a few times that he was too pretty to be one. She could agree, especially with the dark eyes, thick black hair with just a bit of curl to it, a well-kept beard, and all that ink, but there was also a hard edge to him. The man wore his cut proudly, and while he was considered a bit of a jokester, she knew he was tough as nails. Hell, he took the butt of a gun to the head and still got up and helped save Rogue’s girls. It wasn’t often she was impressed, but these MC boys impressed her constantly.

Razor, though, was something different. When he stared at her, it made her instantly wet and her arousal burned hot. It complicated things that she already slept with him, so she knew how good he was in bed. And she kept sleeping with him, no matter how many times she told herself it was a terrible idea. She needed to stop. She had more important things to worry about than a man that made her feel things she shouldn’t.

She told him to stop coming to her bar, because she knew exactly how the night ended when he did. He would run off any man interested in her, then they would argue and she would tell him to back off and leave her alone. He would ignore her, follow her home, storm inside after her, pin her against the wall, and then they would have hot, crazy sex that would leave her sated and sleepy.

Of course, it wouldn’t end there. Then he would tell her they weren’t going to do this anymore, that she was going to be his, and it would piss her off. Lead to her kicking him out and vowing to never sleep with him again. Of course, it would only be a short time before the cycle repeated itself.

Chemistry was a bitch, and when it came to Razor, she was far too weak.

She hated weakness. She spent the past fourteen years becoming strong, studying every fighting technique she could, to the point that Uncle Sam took notice and recruited her to work with teams that didn’t technically exist. She wasn’t an assassin, but she worked with enough to pick up some tricks along the way. She did that for a couple of years before getting out and moving on.

Her first bartending job came not long after, and she took it more because she was bored. She had enough money that she didn’t need to work for a number of years if she didn’t want to, but she wasn’t one to be idle. The job had been terrible, but the easy routine came naturally to her, so she stayed.

Which was how she met Esme. She came in to apply for a waitressing job, and the two of them became fast friends. Karissa spent some of her savings on helping Esme get set up with an apartment. When Esme finally told her who she was and why she was on the run, Karissa knew that when Esme decided to leave, she would go with them.

She kept up the bartending gigs wherever they went, and now it was second nature. It paid well enough in tips that she could pay for rent, food, and gas, and her regular rate went into savings just in case she had to run again.

She sensed that time was coming soon. She needed to make sure she was ready, no matter what. That included ignoring Razor and any attempts from him to stop her.

She turned away from him and made her way further down the bar, grabbing more beers and drinks for her customers. The other bartender, Manuel, was making drinks for the floor, but he mostly ignored her, and she was fine with that.

Manuel wasn’t exactly the most talkative of people, but he was cordial. Hispanic with dark eyes and hair, he had tattoos that covered his arms and halfway up his neck. He gave off don’t-fuck-with-me vibes, but she had seen him more than once rescue a woman trying to get away from a pushy customer with just a hard look. He never raised his voice, never threatened anyone, but people knew not to mess with him.

He also wasn’t an ass about tips, so she liked working with him.

“You need anything?” she asked him as she wiped down the bar beside him.

“I’m good,” he rumbled out, restocking his station efficiently.

She nodded and turned around, barely pausing when she saw Razor raise his empty beer bottle at her in the signal to give him a refill. She wanted to say no and ignore him, but she didn’t dare because Felix would have her head. He was a decent boss, but he liked money and happy customers more than anything, which meant he got pissed if a customer complained.

So she made her way down to Razor, grabbing another beer on the way. She set it in front of him, picked up the empty one, and started to turn away, but Razor grabbed her wrist, stopping her. With anyone else, she would have already wrenched her arm away and made them regret that decision, but not Razor.

“You ignoring me thinking that I’ll go away?” he asked her in that rumbling voice that made her thighs quiver. She loved to hear it husky and demanding when he was saying dirty things to her in bed.

“Aren’t you observant,” she said sarcastically, determined to keep her distance. “I told you to stop coming here.”

“And I told you I’m not going to walk away,” he returned evenly. Irritation filled his eyes, but his face was as cool as a cucumber.

She pulled away from him, and he let her. “Razor, I’ve told you time and time again we are not going to be anything. We had our fun, but we’re done. I’m done. You need to go back to the clubhouse and find some other woman to fuck. I’ve heard you have plenty of pussy to choose from there.” Crude? Yes, but it was true. Razor had his pick of club whores, all of whom would gladly spend the night in his bed.

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