Page 62 of Razor

I roll onto my back, my breathing erratic, and she lies on her back and says softly, “It’s okay if you don’t love me.”

Why does that sentence hurt so much?

Of course I love her. More than she will ever know. She is my world, the reason I’m living and not drowning in my own surly shit as I did before she arrived. I think about her twenty-four seven, hating when she’s not with me. I search for her in the crowded bar and make certain to watch her every move when she works.

The guys are respectful, but I still don’t trust the fuckers and keep watch—always watching but never admitting the truth. I love Sunday more than I have ever loved anyone before. If only she knew how much.

She never will.

It’s for the best, no matter how that is killing me inside.

CHAPTER 32

SUNDAY

Blade is back, and he’s not alone. The news races through the compound like wildfire, and I wonder what Razor thinks of that. By all accounts, he hasn’t dropped Delilah’s hand since they walked through those doors, which intrigues me. Blade is so like his twin, and it will be interesting if they have the same commitment issues.

However, when Blade walks into the Reaper bar, he’s alone and my heart sinks. Perhaps the rumors weren’t true. Maybe he is just like his brother after all.

Razor doesn’t turn, but I can tell by the way his fist tenses he’s aware. Probably because of the calls from the other Reapers as Blade works his way toward us.

He draws near, and I beckon him across, and as he slaps Razor hard on the back, he winks at me.

“Good to see you, darlin’. I don’t suppose there’s a cold beer with my name on it.”

“Coming right up.”

I leave them to catch up, and it doesn’t take me long to rustle up the beer and catch Razor grumbling that Blade took too long.

I raise my eyes as I hand Blade the beer.

“He hates it when you’re not here.”

Blade nods, only too aware of his brother’s ways, and I lean on the bar and peer at him with concern.

“How’s Delilah?”

“Struggling to remember who she is.”

“Word is she lost her memory.”

I wipe the counter and sigh. “That must suck.”

I get called away before he can answer me, Razor’s gaze, as always, following every move I make.

I serve Jet, who is besotted with Lucy, and as I head back to the twins, Blade signals for another beer.

I grab a cold one and head their way and, noting their expressions, ask, “What did I miss?”

“Nothing, darlin’.”

He drains the bottle and then slams it on the counter.

“I’m off to shower and grab some food. I’ll leave you two to, well, whatever it is you do.”

Razor catches my attention and smiles, and I disguise my rising giggle with a toss of my eyes.

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