Razor's Edge: Men in Blue, Book 2 (37 page)

The pen shook in Razor’s fingers as he attempted to add notes to his log. He’d jotted major developments in his reports each night as required for his assignment. Tonight, he couldn’t seem to clear his mind and document without emotion. Maybe the drug continued to affect him. He couldn’t seem to bury his fury as he had in the past.

When he read the final details of the “accidental death” file, the pen snapped in half.

Below the bullets on time of death, a damning statement followed. “Mole lost. Daughter—Isabella Buchanan—remains on premises per Judge Wineman. Future informant prospects preserved.”

Razor could read through the fucking lines. Izzy’s mom had helped the authorities. She’d tried to put her husband away, probably to ensure her daughter’s future. And how had her sacrifice been rewarded? Not only had Buchanan murdered her, but also, the men who should have saved her daughter had abandoned the girl instead.

In the hopes of a future lead, they’d left an innocent as long-term bait.

Red haze obscured his vision. An organization that would condone an act so heinous wasn’t one he was proud to serve. He’d had enough lies, lived enough nights in the shadows.

He stormed to the door and flung it open. “Clint.”

Where the fuck had his fellow officer gone? He needed someone to cover the apartment so he could cool down. Take his bike for a quick drive. How the fuck could they have done this to Izzy?

They’d had the power to stop it yet had chosen not to. The knowledge shook his foundational belief in the system.

“Matt.”

He glanced down as he fished his phone from his pocket, intending to text the guys on duty. Where the hell had they disappeared to?

Before he wiggled the device free, a whisper of sensation caught his attention. He turned in time to use his forearm to deflect something solid—his Slugger—aimed at the crown of his head. His phone flew out of his grip. It bounced across the landing. His damn pants slid lower as he stepped back, strangling his legs, limiting his movement. The man in the shadows took advantage, shoving him as he teetered off balance.

Razor tumbled ass over teakettle down the stairs, hitting his head on the post at the bottom. For the second time in one day, stars faded to black.

His primary concern was for Izzy but, when he realized he couldn’t shout a warning, he hoped he’d at least managed to keep his full moon from hanging out when he died.

He prayed for his princess’s safety—prayed for his friends—as the world fell away.

Isabella woke to darkness. She groaned then shifted, trying to stretch the kinks from her shoulders. Her arms yanked to a halt, bound behind her. The abrupt jarring tore her stitches. Blood oozed from her gunshot wound, warming her skin. She blinked several times, waiting for her night vision to clear. It never did. Instead, the pressure of fabric over the bridge of her nose dawned in her mind. Blindfolded.

She whimpered.

“Ah, there you are. Did you miss me, daughter?”

She shivered at the fanatical tinge to her father’s greeting.

“Too bad you won’t be staying long.” He
tsked
then ripped the covering from her face. She squinted, but couldn’t make out anything while her vision adjusted. “Couldn’t have you peeking if you woke up early from your nap. No more chances for escape. No more mistakes. No more guardian fucking angels. You’re as slippery as your old man to catch. Harder still to exterminate.”

“Daddy, listen. You need help…” She hated the weak child in her who attempted to reason with him when she had no hope of success.

“Now you sound like your mother.” He overturned a metal cart, scattering supplies to the corners of the linoleum floor. The resulting crash hurt her ears. “I don’t need your opinion. Don’t plan to give up all that I am, all that I have. For what? Some fool’s perception of how things should be? Right and wrong are for the masses who can’t do shit about where they stand. I make my own rules. My own fate. No one can stop me.”

“You can’t sustain this.” She tried again to reach him, stalling for time. As her sight returned, she scanned her surroundings—white walls, clinical machinery, stainless fixtures. She’d found their new laboratory. If only she could figure out the location and fill in the men in blue, she’d rest easy. Even if they came too late for her. She could help the women he’d victimized and all the rest who would suffer if her father succeeded. Her life could mean something. “They’re going to stop you.”

“Says who? The puny cop
assigned
to fuck you?”

His taunt imparted a flash of panic. She tried to conceal it. Her father latched on to the flicker of doubt like a pitbull lunging for the jugular.

“You didn’t really believe his nonsense did you, Isabella? The same mistake twice? Malcolm first, your cop second? You’ve always been so fucking gullible it sickens me.” Her father zoomed in. She thought he might spit in her face. Instead, he settled for snarling so close she could count his nose hairs. “I fear I encouraged your trust. It made my life easier. I still wish you had some spine of your own.”

She had to remain calm and avoid falling into his traps. Why should she believe him over James? Or Lily? What would the strong Mistress do if it had been her chained to the wall instead? “You want me to be more like my sister?”

“Ah, she told you. Nicely played.” Sick pride tugged a grin from his maroon face. “Yes, I have to respect her tenacity. Now
there’s
a daughter to be proud of. Unlike you. Fuck, the only thing you were good for was trading. The Scientist cut his offer in half. Six milliliters. You’re lucky he’ll take you at all after that mutt ruined you.”

“Milliliters. Not millions.” She hadn’t meant to murmur aloud. Her fuzzy mind struggled to catch up. Finally, something made sense. “You traded my virginity for drugs?”

“What the fuck do I need more money for?” The hatred churning in her father’s gaze soured her stomach. She hadn’t really believed the extent of his insanity before now. “The drug is so rare, so strong, no amount of cash could convince the Scientist to part with the supply. Not after the sample he gave us proved its potency. I funded the lion’s share of the venture. My sizable investment earned me seven milliliters. One of which we used in your perfume. What a waste. Then again, we didn’t want to experiment on ourselves. Besides, for you, the fool would have given me enough to last until full production kicks in. A damn fine bargain. I don’t have much left. I have to be careful.”

“I thought everything was destroyed?”

“Pay attention.” Her father gripped the chains she hung from. He shook them, sending bolts of pain through her arms. “The lies your fake boyfriend told you stretched far and wide I’m sure. You can’t believe anything he said.”

Lily had told her about the fire, not James.

Isabella should have ignored his delusion, but allowing her father to demean Razor felt like a betrayal. “I love him. And he loves me. Nothing you say will convince me otherwise.”

Buchanan—it became harder to think of him as her father by the second—grabbed his middle then doubled over with uncontrolled guffaws.

“Fool.” He spun around to rummage through some documents on a desk nearby. When he found the one he sought, he held it aloft in triumph. “Care to read his case notes? His assignment is right here in his own pathetic chicken scratch. I’m shocked he’s literate at all. His superiors gave him one last chance to save his career by going undercover on that ridiculous farce of a dance show you signed up for. They ordered him to befriend you. His mission… Dig up information on your darling husband and yours truly. Another pesky mosquito to be splattered. They pop up every so often. I’ve never met one yet who couldn’t be bribed or eliminated without much fuss.”

“Razor isn’t like that. He won’t quit. And he would never take your money. He’s honest.”

“Really? No trust required here, Isabella. Look for yourself.”

The sheaf of papers rustled as he thrust them in front of her face. She recognized the handwriting. Razor had drafted an incident report after the explosion at her apartment. It looked identical. The match screamed his involvement in black and white. Snippets jumped off the lined pages to rip her heart out.

Investigation initiated. Initial contact with suspect successful. Meeting arranged for ten tomorrow.

She pictured Razor’s fury the day he’d kept their appointment at the mall. Why else would he have showed?

Suspect avoids discussion of her husband and father. Suspicious behavior following morning break. Message located on cell phone. Confirmed communication intercepted by Officer Radisson.

He’d invaded her privacy. They all had. Stealing her phone to read her messages, misinterpreting the threat she’d received. They’d thought she was involved.

Hell, they’d taken her downtown for questioning.

“No!” She thrashed in her bonds, oblivious to the physical pain assaulting her. Nothing could hurt worse than the knife stabbing through her back, into her heart.

“Wonder if he collected hazard pay for fucking you?” Buchanan shook his head. “It couldn’t have been much fun for him. A virgin with no idea how to please a man. He must have been disappointed when you had nothing relevant to share during your pillow talk.”

She didn’t know she cried until her father ridiculed her tears.

“You’d think marrying Malcolm would have robbed you of your pitiful delusions. Christ, you’re a stupid one. As dumb as your mother.” He slammed his fist into a lever on the wall. Her bonds cut loose, dropping her to the floor in a pile of chain and wire. “Try not to let the Scientist figure that out until I have my supply. After the fire, we’re lucky he had this much remaining in his safe. Otherwise, I’d have shown you what it really means to suffer.”

Isabella couldn’t find the strength to fight. Nothing mattered. Her entire life had been a lie. Her father was right. She’d been a moron. Again and again.

“I’d love to mark you, but I don’t want to give him reason to withhold my due. Guard!” A giant man with a slash across his right eye lumbered into the room. “Take her to the holding area. Keep her there until it’s time for transport. If you fuck up, I’ll kill you.”

“Yes, sir.” His grimy hands encircled Isabella’s neck as he yanked her from the floor. When she refused to walk, he threw her over his gnarled shoulder.

“Say hello to Gerard.” Buchanan’s laughter reverberated into the hallway. She bounced with each of the man’s stomps. “If he’s alive. You might want to hurry.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

Isabella clung to the brute lugging her around the corner in the hallway. He picked up his pace, breaking into a trot. Gerard. She had to compartmentalize the portion of her spirit that wailed in agony in order to help her friend. Whether the end came quick for her or took a slower, more painful route, she’d have plenty of time to rehash the damning facts Buchanan had presented. After she’d done what she could for Gerard.

She gasped at the thought of the older man—alone, afraid and broken. What would she find when she reached him?

“Sorry, miss,” the mammoth guard whispered. “Have to hurry. Not much time.”

His gentle tone surprised her. Relying on instinct, she slapped his back several times in a row to secure his attention. “Put me down. I can run.”

“Good. Stay quiet.” Ridiculous to trust this oaf. Would she never learn her lesson? Then again, what greater trouble could she find herself in at this point? She no longer believed Razor would rescue her. Would he even attempt it? Probably, because the men in blue had their sights on her father. Clearly, they’d do a hell of a lot for their positions.

If she had any hope of saving Gerard, she’d have to do it herself.

She’d entangled him in this mess, she’d set it to rights. At least she’d try. If nothing else, she’d hold his hand and prevent him from dying alone. It’d always been her biggest fear. One she seemed doomed to live out.

Isabella stumbled when her gargantuan escort took a flight of open, steel stairs three at a time. He checked over his shoulder before unlocking a door on the right side of the landing. She didn’t hesitate to ask why he helped her when she spotted the crumpled form cowering in the corner.

“Not again.”

The cross between a plea and an oath terrified her.

“Shush, Gerard.” She sprinted toward the trembling man. He scurried away in a grotesque imitation of a half-smashed bug.

Isabella dropped to her knees. She crawled the remaining distance between them, hoping her non-threatening posture would penetrate the cocoon of terror engulfing her friend.

“It’s me. I would never hurt you.” She repeated herself until he stopped retreating.

“Little bell?” His confusion sent a chill down her spine. How out of it was he?

“Yes, Gerard.” She subconsciously moved to hug him.

He flinched hard enough he collapsed onto his side and didn’t rise again.

“I’m here.” She sobbed when she noted the damage to his face, his body. It took her a while to recognize his nudity. Bruises peppered every inch of his skin. Blood oozed from uncounted abrasions. His face had swollen so much she hardly recognized him.

“What have they done to you?” She wept, aching to comfort him. How could she do so when he feared her contact?

“They raped him.”

Isabella spun to face the gentle giant who’d delivered her.

“Too many times to count. Mr. Buchanan ordered the lab techs to use tiny droplets of the test formula on the guards until they went berserk. He observed. They documented the frenzy. They didn’t intervene. They made us hurt him. Again and again. Couldn’t stop. Didn’t want to…felt so good…”

His face turned an unhealthy shade of green, matching his dazed eyes.

“When I tried to stop, they turned on me.” He gestured to the slice on his face. “I took out three or four before they dosed me again. Said I was too big for one drop. Don’t remember much after that.”

“They raped you too, forcing you to act when you would have chosen not to.” Isabella closed the gap between them, hugging the man before she could think better of it. “I’m sorry.”

He patted her shoulder as though terrified to damage her. The vibration humming through him as he trembled didn’t escape her notice.