Razor: A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance(4)
4…
The video finished, but not before a message popped up on my screen.
Who is this?
Fuck!
I came. Hard. I let the orgasm wash over me as Bianca greedily took every drop. And then I jumped up and slammed my laptop screen down, enraged.
“You stupid bitch!” I yelled, stuffing my now half hard cock back into my boxers. I knew whoever sent the message had already latched on to my location — all thanks to her. It was time to get the hell out of dodge.
“You almost ruined my f*cking plan!”
Climbing unsteadily to her feet, Bianca looked shocked in the face of my wrath. “What did I do wrong?” she asked.
I started to yell at her and tell her how badly she f*cked things up, but then I thought better of it. She had no clue what I was doing — wouldn’t even understand a word I was saying — and it was all my fault for keeping her around when I knew I had business to take care of.
“Nothing,” I muttered, walking over to my dress pants from the previous evening and quickly slipping them on. “Listen, babe. It’s been great. But I gotta’ run.”
“Where are you going?” Bianca asked, her voice shaky as she wiped at her pretty little face.
“Away,” I replied as I slipped on my dress shirt, leaving the buttons undone. I needed to get to a safe house fast, but that wasn’t going to be enough. While I trusted some people within Anonymous, I knew that even some of its members could be compromised. Someone had caught me, though who that someone was, I had no idea. And this information was too explosive to let fall into the wrong hands.
Since I was caught in the act, I needed someone that I could completely trust — and I knew just the person. If I could just find her, I thought.
“Will I ever see you again?” Bianca asked.
I stopped for a moment to study her. While the sex had been good, there was no reason for me to ever see her again. She was hot and all, but as dumb as a sack of potatoes.
“Probably not,” I replied coldly.
Not sparing her another glance, I grabbed my laptop and walked out.
Madeline
“Razor’s on the move!” I snapped. “Find him.”
I paced back and forth in the small living room of our apartment building that sat over a local meat shop as I watched my on-again-off-again boyfriend, if you could call it that, try to track down my most hated enemy.
“Calm down, Maddy,” Andre muttered as his fingers moved with lightning speed across his keyboard. “I’m looking for him.” Andre was a big guy, dirty blonde hair, and massive shoulders. He reminded me of one of those Nordic berserker warriors from an age bygone.
I scowled at the big lout like he was the biggest village idiot on the planet. “What do you mean you’re looking for him? You should’ve already had his location by now!” I screamed.
Andre winced at the piercing sound of my voice and spared an irritated glare my way. “Jesus, Maddy, will you calm the f*ck down? You’re bout’ to blow out my f*cking eardrum.”
It was difficult quelling the urge to leap across the room and slap him across the face.
Those anger management classes aren’t helping one bit, I thought bitterly.
I knew I was being a bit unhinged, but I couldn’t help myself. I hated Razor. Hated him with a passion.
I sucked in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Sorry,” I said quietly. “I just don’t want to lose him this time.”
Andre didn’t answer and started typing even faster than before, his face scrunching with intensity. I leaned forward, waiting, hoping. “Damn it!” He shouted suddenly, slamming his hand down on his keyboard. “He’s gone.”
Yelling with rage, I grabbed my purse off of the couch and sent it hurling across the room.
“How could you let him get away you big idiot?” I hissed. “You said you had him.”
“I did,” Andre said, shaking his head at the mess I had made, “but he went off. Don’t worry, Maddy. We’ll find him. He’s a cocky bastard and he’ll let his guard down sooner or later. When he does, we’ll be there.”
“I want that bastard’s balls on a platter,” I growled through gritted teeth, bending my fingers into claws. “I don’t care what it takes.”
Andre grimaced and looked down at his crotch area. “Fine . . . just as long as you leave my balls out of it.”
Chapter 2
Carly
If I don’t get a decent job soon, I may be changing my address to under a bridge, I thought sourly as I looked into my cup of coffee that had conveniently gone cold. I’d get another one in a minute, but right now, I needed to make sure my new blog entry was perfect.
I right clicked my mouse, blew my strawberry blond bangs out of my eyes in frustration, and critically eyed the website on my laptop screen.
The Post
No new leads in the death of local Prostitute.
By Carly Washington
“She was the best daughter a mother could ever hope for,” sniffed Rosemary Collins, a fifty-six-year-old Wal-Mart employee from Woodberry Hills. “I don’t know what kind of monster could’ve done this to my daughter.”
The grocery store clerk and grandmother of four, has grieved over her daughter, Ashley Collins, who was alleged to be a prostitute, for the past several months.