Page 36 of Razor
Fury nodded once, decisive."I'll be there.And Razor?"He picked up a wrench, turning it over in his hands like he was weighing more than just metal."About time someone has the balls to challenge him.Been waiting years for this."
I knocked twice, paused, then three times in quick succession—the signal Loch had insisted on.Security measures had doubled since our planning began, paranoia spreading through our small group like a contagion.The peephole darkened as someone looked through it, then the door swung open to reveal Loch, his face set in its perpetual half-smirk."The Calculator arrives," he drawled, stepping aside to let me in."Right on time.Some things never change."His apartment smelled of cigarettes and gun oil, the familiar scents of club life concentrated in the small space.Through the living room window, I could see my bike parked between two SUVs—hidden from casual observation, just as we'd discussed.
"Pierce here yet?"I asked, shrugging off my cut and draping it carefully over the back of a chair.
"Downstairs, probably rearranging my ammo for the third time."Loch rolled his eyes."Kid's nervous as a prospect at a police checkpoint."
I followed him through the kitchen to a door that looked like it might lead to a pantry but instead opened onto a steep staircase.The basement lights cast harsh shadows as we descended, illuminating a space that had clearly been converted into an unofficial club meeting spot.Weapons lined one wall—handguns, shotguns, rifles, all mounted on custom racks.Motorcycle memorabilia covered another—vintage signs, framed photos of historic bikes, patches from rallies dating back decades.A heavy wooden table dominated the center of the room, scarred with cigarette burns and knife marks from years of use.
Pierce sat at the table, his fingers drumming an anxious rhythm against the wood.He jumped to his feet when he saw me, tension radiating from his lanky frame.At twenty-nine, he was one of our younger members, still eager to prove himself, still searching for his place in the hierarchy.
"Razor," he greeted, hand extended."Got here early to help set up."
"I see that," I replied, noting the neatly arranged papers on the table, the cleaning supplies beside a disassembled pistol that Loch had obviously been working on before my arrival."Appreciate the dedication."
Loch dropped into a chair across from me, propping his boots on the table edge.He resumed cleaning his gun with practiced movements, his fingers automatically reassembling the weapon as he spoke."So, Calculator, you've got five brothers on board now.Half the club.Not bad for three days' work."
"Should be more," I said, setting my phone on the table within easy reach.Ophelia had texted an hour ago that she was fine, Fury keeping watch outside, but I still checked for updates compulsively."Mustang's leadership is putting us all at risk, not just my family."
"Yeah, but your family's what lit the fuse," Loch observed, sliding the magazine into his weapon with a satisfying click."Never seen you this worked up over club business before.Not even when we lost fifty grand in that bank heist gone wrong."
I met his gaze steadily."This is different."
"No shit."Loch's mouth quirked into his trademark sardonic grin."The Calculator's finally found something worth more than money.Who'd have thought?"
The jab might have angered me a week ago, but now I simply nodded."Family changes things."
"Clearly."He chambered a round with practiced efficiency, then set the gun on the table, his actions belying his casual tone."So, what's the plan?We've got five brothers at your gate to protect what's yours.What next?"
Pierce leaned forward, eager energy practically vibrating from him."Whatever you need, I'm in.Protection duty, intel gathering, anything."
I studied them both—Loch with his calculated indifference masking genuine loyalty, Pierce with his transparent desire for belonging.Different personalities, different motivations, but both now aligned with my cause.
"We need to formalize the protection rotation," I said, pulling out the schedule I'd drafted."Five brothers working four-hour shifts means constant coverage.Fury's taking the overnight, he's already at the house.Socket and Screwball afternoons.Pierce, you're mornings.Loch, you and I split the evening shifts."
Pierce nodded enthusiastically, already memorizing the schedule I'd laid out."I'll be there.You can count on me."
"Beyond that," I continued, "we need to neutralize the threat itself.Not just react to it."
"The ex," Loch surmised, his expression darkening."Tyler Whatever-The-Fuck."
"Tyler Whitcomb," I clarified."Judge's son.Police chief's nephew.Connected enough to be dangerous."
Loch whistled low."Picked a real winner to go up against, didn't you?"
"Didn't exactly choose this fight," I pointed out."But I'm damn well going to finish it."
"How?"Pierce asked, his fingers finally stilling on the tabletop."If he's got law enforcement connections..."
"That's why we need more than just our club resources," I explained, gauging their reactions carefully."I'm meeting with Pretty Boy tomorrow.Bringing in Hades Abyss."
Loch's eyebrows shot up, genuine surprise breaking through his carefully maintained facade of indifference."Outside support?Mustang will lose his shit."
"Mustang's already lost it," I countered."We made a deal with Hades Abyss when we married Ophelia into our family.They have a stake in her safety too."
"Plus, they've got better tech than we do," Loch acknowledged, warming to the idea."Surveillance equipment, contacts in different jurisdictions.Makes sense."He loaded a clip into his weapon as he spoke, the action seemingly casual but conveying his readiness for whatever came next."Smart play, bringing them in."
"I thought so too," I agreed, relieved that he saw the logic rather than viewing it as disloyalty to our club."Pretty Boy's her brother.He's got more motivation than anyone except me to keep her safe."
