Razor's Edge: Men in Blue, Book 2 (38 page)

“What’s your name?”

“Jonathan.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Jonathan. Gerard would forgive you.”

The giant’s stare fixed on his shoes, refusing to meet her gaze.

“B-bella?” Gerard called.

She drifted from the man’s side when he nodded, urging her to console her friend. “Yes, it’s me.”

“No!” He cried with huge heaving sobs. “It’s all been for nothing. They found you anyway. They’ll hurt you. They’ll destroy you. No!”

Nothing she tried could calm the hysterical man then.

“I know a way outside.” Jonathan wrung his hands. “But I don’t doubt it will work if I try to take both of you.”

“Go, little bell.” Gerard shoved her toward the door. “Run! Run from this hell.”

“I won’t abandon you.” She stayed glued to the floor. “Never again. If you can’t come with me, I’m not leaving.”

“Please, we have to try now, or it’ll be too late,” Jonathan begged. She could read the futility in his stance. He didn’t believe they’d evade the rest of her father’s well-trained men.

“I have a better idea.” Isabella shot him her best smile from her glamour days. It seemed to dazzle Jonathan as it had most of the people she aimed it at. “You go. Bring help. Contact the p-police.”

She stuttered as she considered. Who else could she call? Razor would strive to bust the operation, even if he didn’t love her. The importance of his career had never been in question. She should have realized his true motivation. If she made it out of here alive, she’d never allow a man to deceive her again.

For now it was enough that he come. Whatever the reason.

“Ask for Razor.”

“You’re sure?” Jonathan glanced between her and Gerard.

“He won’t make it. This is his only chance.”

“No! Take her.” Gerard wheezed beside her. “Don’t let her stay.”

Jonathan shook his head, his hands balling into fists. “I hate it. The little one’s right. I have to run on my own. Might actually work.”

The former guard drew a gun from the waistband of his pants. He slid it across the floor to them. “It’s not much, but it’s all I have.”

“Thank you.” Isabella gulped as their last hope slipped from the room, locking the door behind him. “Be safe.”

He passed the key through the barred window. “Maybe this will slow them down.”

Before he turned to leave, Gerard whispered. “She
is
right. Not your fault. I forgive you.”

Jonathan’s face seemed to turn twenty years younger. “I’ll fix this. I’ll be back. With help. I swear.”

“So, if you didn’t see the person. And they came from behind you, from inside the apartment, it could have been Isabella who attempted to brain you?”

“No.” Razor raged as they wasted time on wild hares. Izzy had been stolen. She was out there. Alone. And she needed him.

“You didn’t see…”

“Fuck. Chief, it doesn’t matter. I don’t care what clues you have or how they implicate Izzy. She did not do this. You’re wasting time we need to find her and bring her home…”

He couldn’t say alive. The worried looks and grim faces guaranteed the rest of his squad knew what he meant.

“Son, calm down.” The chief swiveled in his chair. “You’re right. You don’t have all the facts. Clint and Matt were away from their posts, investigating a tip. They found documents under the seat of Isabella’s car. Records. Payment registers. An empty vial, which looks like it contained more of the drug.”

“It’s her father’s car.” Razor refused to lose faith in Izzy. “She has nothing to do with this.”

“They also uncovered a flight itinerary. Booked in her name. Scheduled departure an hour after she vanished, headed for the Caribbean. A private island her husband owned. She owns it now. He left her everything.”

“You could have found a smoking gun with her fingerprint on it. It doesn’t mean shit. I know her. She wouldn’t be involved in this. Not to save her life. No one can convince me otherwise. I’m sure of it.” He smacked his flexed abs. “Here.”

Then he touched his heart, praying he didn’t break down and cry in front of them all. “Here.”

Silence stretched for eons in the tension of the room.

“I don’t believe she’s involved any more than you do.” The chief stood behind the desk, slapping his palms on the polished surface in a rare display. “The ringer on our team at the funeral proves your girl was right to mistrust us. Her father has men on the inside here. I hate that more than you know. So I’m giving you boys all the lead I can. Run like hell out of here before someone higher up than me reins you in. You’re ready. You can handle this.”

“Thank you, sir.” How could he ask for a better leader? “I won’t disappoint you.”

“You haven’t yet, rookie.” The chief cracked a tiny smile. “Now find Isabella. I’ll feed you what info I can from this side. I’m afraid it won’t be much.”

Razor grimaced at the reminder. He struggled to embrace control, taming his impulsive streak. Izzy needed the best of him concentrated on rescuing her. He bolted from the room with the rest of the team in tow.

“I think we should start with properties in Buchanan’s name. Having to act fast, he’d fall back on something he already has. Something he can use until the coast is clear.”

Before anyone could respond, Payton from dispatch rushed at them, holding out his headset.

“JRad. You know how you told me to keep an ear out…” The heavily tattooed guy thrust the contraption at Jeremy. “I think you’re going to want to hear this.”

The technophile jammed it over his head in his haste.

“What? Who are you?”

Someone poured out information on the other end of the line.

“Where is she?”

Pause.

“You’re sure? When did you last see her? How much time do we have?”

A longer pause followed.

Razor counted to ten, impressed with his restraint.

A long stream of curses flooded the hallways. “They’re holding her in a temporary facility on the south side, about twenty miles from the city. It’s one of her father’s holdings. An unfinished factory.”

“Welcome back, kid.” Mason nodded as they sprinted for the garage. The other man beamed at the rest of the crew. “Looks like Razor’s found his edge.”

JRad cut off any possible response as he shouted out the address and general directions while they ran. Their footfalls echoed on the concrete of the parking area. Velcro fasteners on their flak jackets tore and resealed. The men in blue piled into their patrol cars. All except for Razor, who opted to take his motorcycle instead. He could beat them there. Too bad they’d left Izzy’s car at his apartment for another team to finish searching.

Hang on, princess. I’m coming.

Isabella sank to the floor beside Gerard, her shoulders braced on the cinderblock wall. She dug in her pocket, thrilled to find the medicine she’d stuffed in her pajamas earlier that evening.

“I’m sorry I don’t have any water. You should chew these.”

He eyed the pills suspiciously. “What are they?”

“Painkillers.”

“Why do you have them?” He scanned her for signs of distress.

“Nothing major.”
Just a bullet wound.
She tipped her hand until the capsules rolled into Gerard’s palm. No need to worry him further. Besides, her injuries looked like a splinter compared to the trauma he’d sustained.

The magnitude of his agony came clear when he didn’t argue. He chomped the bitter medicine to bits and swallowed it dry.

Isabella hooked her pinky with his, one of the few places not swollen, bloody or bruised on his body. She pressed the knuckles of her other hand to her mouth to smother a sob.

“Shh.” Gerard soothed her despite his own agony. “Jonathan will bring help. We’ll be out of here in no time.”

“That’s not what upset me.” She didn’t bother to correct his assumption. If he had to believe the fairytale to keep going, she didn’t plan to burst his bubble. She figured the odds to be about a million to one against them, though. Without Razor’s love waiting, she found the prospect less devastating.

“What is it?” The man who should have been her father stroked her hair, unconcerned with his own condition—not his injuries, not his nudity and not his imprisonment.

“All this time you’ve been here. Suffering.” She struggled to breathe. “While I was…”

“What, little bell?” He turned to her, serious. “Tell me about something other than this trouble. I want to forget.”

“I met someone.”

“A man?” Gerard smiled an honest-to-God smile, if a pitiful one since his dry lips cracked. “You work quick, Bella.”

She ducked her chin. “Easy when he’s assigned to fake a relationship with you.”

“What does that mean?” Gerard’s hint of happiness disappeared. She hustled to fan it to life.

“Well, he’s a cop. It’s a long story… I thought I met him by chance, but my father showed me documents—”

“Stop right there.” The fragility vanished from Gerard’s tone. “Nothing that man says can be trusted. Tell me what you know in your heart. Ignore everything else. What does your soul say about this fellow?”

“Fellow.” She giggled. “You make him sound like something out of a black and white movie. He’s twenty-four. Handsome. Funny. A great dancer. Noble. Comes from a huge, amazing family. He’s sweet…”

Gerard waited for her to finish.

“And I’m completely in love with him.”

“Does he know?”

“Wait…you don’t think that’s crazy? To love someone so soon after meeting them?” She confronted the worst obstacle along her path. Her father had made her doubt it possible.

“I loved Irene from the moment I met her.” Gerard sighed. “I bumped into her in the kitchen. She wore a yellow dress with a matching ribbon in her hair. I still have that scrap of satin. She gave it to me after I kissed her in the garden a few hours later. The connection between us existed from that day. The first instant.”

“It’s exactly like that.” Isabella grimaced. “At least for me.”

“He’ll come around, little bell.” Gerard acted like they had a future. “Give him time.”

“No, that’s not the problem.” She sighed. “He told me he loves me. When he…”

She stopped, blushing.

“You slept with him?”

She nodded.

“Because he said he loved you?”

“Even I’m not that naïve.” She shook her head. “I wanted to know what it was like. With him. He made it so good for me. I felt like…a princess. He calls me that. It’s silly, but he treats me like one. He didn’t tell me he loved me until after that.”

Would talking about this upset the man after all he’d been through?

“And this cop has been looking out for you?” Gerard narrowed his eyes.

“Yes. He saved my life. Well, a bunch of times, really.”

“Maybe you’d better explain, little bell.”

She hadn’t intended to steer the conversation to serious matters. “Well, my apartment kind of blew up. I got shot at. Umm… someone tried to kidnap me and Lily at Malcolm’s funeral and…”

“You’ve met your sister?” His finger squeezed hers. “Malcolm’s dead?”

Damn, a lot had happened in the past ten days.

She sighed. “Yes and yes.”

“Buchanan did it?”

“I think so.”

“Dear God.” Gerard gripped her pinky harder. “Forget all that, Bella. Believe me, I know it’s hard. But all that matters is what is written in your soul. When you meet the one, you know.”

“Razor is the man for me. I hope it’s truly the same for him. I don’t think I’ll know unless I can look in his eyes and ask him. Even then…”

“Trust yourself. You’ll know.” Gerard steered her from the depths of her misery. “They call him Razor? What an odd nickname.”

“Ah, yeah. His name is James Reoser. You know, R-E-O-S-E-R so they call him Razor. It’s not as bad as his one friend, Jeremy Radisson. They call him JRad.”

Gerard chuckled. “To be young and foolish again…”

She wanted to laugh, but she had one more thing to get off her chest. In case…

“I understand now why you wouldn’t leave my father’s house. Even though James only approached me because of his job, I can’t change how I feel about him.” She scrubbed her sweating palm on her pajamas. “His friends, his little apartment, his motorcycle—I love all those things because they’re his. I’d never give them up if I didn’t have to.”

“A motorcycle?” Gerard groaned. “Do you know how dangerous those things are, little bell?”

She didn’t see the need to remind Gerard of how much more lethal her father was, content to feign ignorance as he did.

“Yeah, it’s bright yellow and super fast. When I ride with him, the wind in my face makes me feel like I’m flying…”

She continued to distract them both with highlights of the prior week. She’d done more living in ten days than in the twenty-two years before. They shared stories until another guard came to retrieve them.

This one wasn’t nearly as kind as Jonathan.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Razor ignored years of training in favor of raw reactions. He cut the engine to his bike then ditched the machine in the scrub, approaching the factory on foot under the awning of the woods. Right where their informant had promised to wait, a colossal shadow darkened the ground.

It could be a trap. Or this could be his chance to save his soulmate. He’d take the risk, no matter how foolish.

“Jonathan?” He called softly, not willing to startle the man.

“Are you Razor?”

“Yes.” He didn’t have time for the pleasantries Izzy adored. “Take me to her.”

“I sort of thought you would bring some backup. We have to drag them out of there. The Scientist is coming.”

“Help is following.” Razor grimaced as he considered how much he’d exceeded the speed limit on his trip here. “Five minutes behind me, maybe. Take me now. They’ll catch up.”

The pair of them zigzagged across the clearing, ducking behind what cover they could find. Jonathan, light on his feet for someone so large, made little sound as he led James into the cellar entrance. They sped up once inside. Without talking, they wormed deep into the complex.

Up ahead, he spotted a series of gated doors.

“This is where they kept the test subjects.” Jonathan broke the hushed atmosphere. “All of them have been moved. Or…”

“Disposed of.” Razor supplied to keep the man talking. They didn’t have time for pauses.