Page 10 of Razor’s Redemption

"Rules can be bent when the right person comes along."

"He's an ex-con."

"He's also the man who made sure you got home safe." Mom's expression softens, but there's something serious underneath now. "I'm not saying throw caution out the window, honey. I'm saying don't close the door on something just because it scares you. But—" She pauses, her voice taking on that protective edge. "Be careful. You don't really know him. Tonight was... it was a lot. Don't let gratitude turn into something more before you know who he really is."

"I won't."

"And if he does anything that makes you uncomfortable…"

"I'll tell you immediately. I promise."

"Good. Now go to bed before you fall asleep standing up. You look like death warmed over."

"Thanks, Mom. Really feeling the love."

She laughs softly and kisses my forehead. "I love you. Lock your bedroom door if it makes you feel safer."

"I will."

But we both know I won't.

Because despite everything, the tattoos, the prison record, the name Razor that should terrify me, I don't feel unsafe.

I feel the opposite.

And that scares me more than anything that happened tonight.

I climb the stairs to my room, check on Luna sleeping peacefully in her bed across the hall, and finally collapse into my own. My phone sits on the nightstand, his number saved in it.

*Razor.*

I fall asleep thinking about green eyes, gentle hands and a promise I made years ago that's already starting to crack.

Chapter 3 - Razor

The ride back to the clubhouse takes fifteen minutes, and I spend every second of it trying to convince myself I didn't just fuck up everything I've been avoiding for two months.

I gave her my number.

I offered to pick her up tomorrow.

I sat in her kitchen and told her about Terry, about prison, about things I don't talk about with anyone except Phoenix and Judge when they're vetting me for the patch I'm still trying to earn.

And she didn't flinch. Didn't look at me like I was something dangerous she needed to escape. Just listened with those tired hazel eyes and said *thank you* like I'd given her something valuable instead of a list of reasons to stay the hell away from me.

The clubhouse gates are open when I pull up. Late night means someone's on watch, probably Priest since it's his rotation. I park the bike and kill the engine, grab the supply bags I was supposed to deliver hours ago, and head inside.

The common room is dimmer than usual, just a few lights on. Canvas is crashed on one of the couches with Eden curled against his chest, both of them asleep in front of some movie that's still playing on mute. Brick and Rosie are at the bar, talking low, her hand in his. The kind of domestic peace that used to make me uncomfortable because I never thought I'd be allowed anywhere near it.

Still not sure I am.

"Razor." Judge's voice comes from the hallway. He's walking toward me with that measured stride he always has, the one that says he's picking up on everything about you before you even open your mouth. "You're late."

"Supply run took longer than expected."

"Diesel called an hour ago asking where his parts were."

Shit. I forgot Diesel was waiting. "My fault. Got delayed. Won't happen again."