Razor: A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance(23)

“What?” I asked.

“He’s gone.”

Anger threatened to overcome me once again, but this time, I was ready for it.

“How?” I asked coolly.

Andre seemed amazed by my self-control. “He may still be there, but I can’t know for sure. Someone must be helping him.”

I arched a delicate eyebrow inquisitively. “Who the hell would be helping him?”

“I’m not sure . . .” Andre squinted at his screen, typing in several more commands. “If I had to guess . . . Shadow,” he said.

“Shadow?” I asked, confused. “Why would that limp-dick nerd want to interfere with us?”

Andre shrugged. “I don’t know, but as far as I know, he’s one of the only Anonymous members that Razor would trust.”

I thought back to the many conversations we’d had. “You know what? I bet you’re right.”

Andre shook his head. “The founders definitely aren’t going to like that. I heard they’re out for Razor for that footage he recovered — you know, about that murdered prostitute?”

I’d heard about that, some local politician getting off on murdering vagabond whores. The story didn’t interest me much, and I didn’t understand what the fuss was all about.

As far as I was concerned, stuff like that always happened and there was no use getting worked up about it. The world was a cruel a place for a woman and sometimes the only way to survive was to use your wits, brain, and be just as cruel yourself.

I’d never be caught dead in a back alley with a man in the wee hours of morning, so the dead woman obviously was an idiot . . . and a weak one at that. She deserved no sympathy from me.

“Yeah,” I replied. “Why is Razor refusing to give it up anyway?”

“You know, him. He’s a rebel. He probably thinks he’s doing what’s right.”

I snorted and rolled my eyes. “How hypocritical.”

“Anyway, Shadow’s attempts to stop us from going after him is just a minor annoyance. He’ll be a pest, but it won’t stop me from tracking him down.”

“Are you sure?”

Andre nodded confidently. “Trust me. He has a lot of people looking for him. He’s going to get desperate, and he’ll make a mistake.”

“You better hope so,” I warned, walking over to the window to look out onto the street. It was mid-afternoon and the area was bustling with business. “Because if I don’t get to sink my claws into him before someone else gets a hold of him, you’ll be sorry.”





Chapter 9





Carly




“Remember, we’re just here to get in and get out,” Mason warned me as we walked onto the university’s campus, speaking furtively close to my ear. He’d donned a gray hoodie, claiming he didn’t want to be seen on camera, and had it pulled low over his face. It made him look ominous and incredibly sexy. Meanwhile, I wore a pink skirt and a white blouse, with white rhinestone sandals adorning my feet, my strawberry blonde hair pulled back into a girly ponytail. “Don’t speak to anyone.”

I shivered at his hot breath on my neck. He was so close to me that I almost felt like I was melting.

“Do you understand?” he asked me, looking around the campus, but keeping his head low before turning his gaze back on my face.

Slowly, I nodded, trying desperately to stay focused.

Mason studied me for a moment and then nodded. “Good.”

He grabbed my hand and began pulling me along toward the campus library.

It was weird. Though I graduated not long ago, it felt eerie to be back on a campus with Mason at my side. Seeing all the college students milling about and the scenery brought back memories of fraternities, sororities, and wild parties — though it was something that I rarely engaged in.

I’d refrained from that for the most part, content with engrossing myself deep into my studies. It just wasn’t me.

Beyond wanting to do well in school, deep down, I continued to hold out hope that I’d someday be with Mason, forgoing the wild parties and, a lot of times, drunken sex.

“It feels weird to be back on campus,” I said as we walked past a couple who were chatting, giggling and carrying on.

Mason kept his head low. “If that makes you feel weird, how does abetting a fugitive feel?”

I snapped my gaze around on him. “You’re not a fugitive.”

Mason snorted. “I’m not? I stole footage from secure servers. You know what that makes me? A f*cking criminal. Even if Mayor Bradley gets what he deserves, I could get jail time.”

I shook my head as we crossed an intersection that had a fountain in the center with a bunch of students lounging around it. “No way,” I said as we sidestepped the crowd and continued on. “You’re doing the right thing. There would be public outrage if they tried to charge you.”

Mason grinned. “I’m touched. I never knew you thought so highly of me, Carly. I should quit now while I’m ahead.”

“Stop it,” I growled.

Mason chuckled. “Anyway, you know as well as I do that the courts aren’t going to see it that way. They’ll make an example of me, especially with Anonymous sometimes being involved in some shady shit. I could be wrong . . . but I wouldn’t hold your breath.”