Razor: A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance (18 page)

D
espite being a sanctuary city
, Los Santos was a pretty cool place. While smaller, it reminded me a lot of San Diego, which was only a short drive to the west. It had New Town and Old Town districts and the faire we were going to be held in Old Town.

Garbed in costume, the entire town seemed to be out on the streets celebrating, making for a festive atmosphere that almost made me forget about the predicament we were in.

The day couldn’t have been better for it either, hot with clear, vivid blue skies.

I probably would have been enjoying myself a lot more if it wasn’t hot as fucking hell. So hot that I was practically dripping sweat from body parts I dare not mention.

It wouldn't have been so bad if it weren't for all the crowds of people and the ridiculous SAW mask Mason was forcing me to wear.

Luckily, he’d informed me that I didn't have to wear the damn thing much longer — just until we made it to the meeting place Mason's hacker buddy had set up for us.

"We'll meet them first, let ‘em know that we're here, and then go enjoy the faire," he had said once we arrived in the border city.

Apparently, Los Santos had a black market filled with people who were willing to smuggle people in and out of the U.S. all the time — for a sizable fee.

When I asked Mason how much it was going to cost, he wouldn't say. I figured it was another one of 'those' things that he simply wouldn't discuss.

“This thing is itching like crazy,” I complained, scratching at the skin under my mask as we weaved our way through a crowd of chattering people. I hated wearing the stupid Mask in the blistering heat, but I was doing it to make Mason happy. Besides, he was just trying to be safe and take every precaution, so I couldn't blame him. “I might scratch my face off, if it doesn’t melt first.”

Mason eyed me through his mask and I could see the amusement in his eyes, though I couldn't see his smile. “Oh stop it. You look so damn cute with that on."

"You really think this shit is funny, don’t you?" I snorted, rolling my eyes. "I look like a fucking moron, you mean. Do you see what these other people are wearing?" I said, gesturing at the people milling about around us. "We look like we’re auditioning for a horror movie — a fricken D-list one at that."

Mason said people dressed up in all kinds of costumes for the faire, but these people were mostly dressed in a more festive manner with a lot of the costumes being colorful and bright.

Mason laughed. "Lighten up, C. You'll be able to take it off in a little while when we reach our destination."

I scowled at him. "Don't call me that."

"What?"

"Don't call me 'C'. Don't reduce me to a single letter." Mason had never called me that before, and it was lame. I'm sure he was just trying to be funny.

"Alright, alright," he laughed. "You know I was just playing. Lighten up, will ya? We’re already in a depressing enough situation as it is, and it won’t help matters if you’re pissed off."

"Sorry, but I'm not amused," I said flatly.

"But damn you're sexy when you're mad, especially with that mask on."

I flushed. It was funny how easily Mason could take my anger away with a compliment.

"Whatever."

We continued on, sluggishly moving through the crowds and viewing the sights. There were all sorts of activities and food vendors lined up throughout the area and street performers of every type.

We'd made it several blocks before I saw something that made my mouth instantly go dry.

The Police.

And a lot of them.

Though I knew it was protocol for law enforcement to attend such events to ensure public safety, just the sight made my heart pound in my chest.

"Mason," I whispered fearfully.

Mason glanced over at me as we avoided a crowd of people watching a juggling clown. "What?"

I nodded up the street. "Do you see all those men in uniform?"

He followed my nod. "Yeah, so?"

I swallowed. "What if they see us?"

"That's why we're wearing these masks," Mason said. “We don’t look any different than anyone else — just a young couple enjoying the festivities.”

It was hard to shake my sudden anxiety and share Mason’s optimism. "But what if they come up to us and demand we take them off?"

"Seriously? And you said I was the paranoid one."

"I don't like this at all," I said, my voice tinged with panic, my breathing ragged. I was seriously starting to sweat even more and the crowds were starting to make me dizzy with anxiety.

"Look Carly,” Mason whispered in my ear. “They're not going to come up to us. We’ll be just fine — if you stop acting like something is wrong."

I tried to heed his words, but I couldn’t help it. I couldn't shake the feeling that something was going to go horribly wrong.

My anxiety only grew stronger with each step we took, and I only made it to the next block before I tugged on his arm with urgency.

Mason stared at me, concern in his eyes. "Are you okay?"

"I c-c-can't do this,” I rasped, shaking my head. "The crowds, this stupid mask, the heat, those policeman . . .”

"Fuck," Mason muttered. He stared at me, assessing my condition. "Let's get you cool and maybe something to drink,” he decided. “I'll let you rest and pull yourself together before heading to the meeting. Okay?"

"Okay," I agreed, feeling relieved.

Mason led me down a side street away from the crowds of people and we entered a corner building that looked like a mini office building.

Inside, the floors were made of white polished marble and furnished with expensive furniture. I deduced we had entered some sort of waiting room or lobby.

"What is this place?" I asked Mason, taking my mask off and sighing with relief as cool air hit me. Now that I was out of the blistering heat and away from the massive throngs, I was already feeling a lot better.

"Shit Carly, I told you keep that on while we were in public,” Mason growled in disapproval.

I wiped the sweat off my brow and gestured at the empty lobby. "There's no one here.”

Mason glanced up into the corner. "Yeah, but there are cameras."

Mason pushed back his mask, wiped at his sweaty face, and glared at me. “Anyway, it’s too late now. Both our faces are on camera."

"Well, I'm sorry."

Mason's glare evaporated. “I’m not mad at you, I just want to make sure we get across this border safe and sound.”

Sympathy rolled through me at the concern in his eyes. He meant me no harm by making me go through all the discomfort. His greatest concern was making sure that I was okay. "You're so sweet," I said placing a hand on his arm. It was clammy with perspiration. He had to be just as hot as I was out there, but he hadn't made a single complaint. It made me feel embarrassed of my prissiness.

I walked over to a chair and sat down. I fanned myself with the mask, still feeling hot in places. "Let me catch my breath and then we can continue on."

“Sure. Five minutes.”

Mason opted not to sit down next to me, content on looking around the lobby for unexpected visitors. After a moment, he nodded over at a vending machine that was on the far side of the large room. "Oh yeah. I’ll get us drink. What kind do you want?"

I flashed him a smile. I loved how considerate he was being. "Dr. Pepper, please, if they have it.”

Mason made his way over to the machine and dug in his pocket then started depositing change in it. He had just got my Dr. Pepper when the front doors flew open and someone walked in.

"Mason!" I screamed. "Watch out!"

Mason, who was too engrossed with getting the sodas to notice the man that walked in, looked up. But it was too late.

With a roar, Andre charged him, knocking him into the vending machine. The vending machine rocked violently on its bottom before falling over onto the floor with a loud bang and several sodas went rolling out of the dispenser.

Regaining his balance, Mason roared back, launching himself at Andre and colliding with his midsection.

Their faces twisted with rage as they grappled with each other, their veins standing out on their necks from strain.

I watched the epic struggle with worry, my heart pounding in my chest, wondering who would win. Andre was a bit taller and more broad, but I knew Mason was trained in martial arts and could kick some serious ass.

Andre slung Mason away from him, sending him flying into a chair and knocking it over.

Mason quickly tried to regain his footing, but before he could, Andre pressed his advantage, grabbing a chair and rushing forward to deliver an incapacitating blow. He swung the chair at Mason’s head. At the very last second, Mason spun, narrowly avoided being struck, and delivered a solid kick to Andre’s right leg and buckling his knee.

Andre let out a gasp and dropped the chair, grabbing his knee in agony. Not wasting any time, Mason balled his fist and delivered a cross to Andre’s face.

Mason grabbed the dazed brute by the front of his shirt and pulled his fist back to deliver a blow that would probably render Andre unconscious, when a cold voice shouted out.

“You hit him again and your little stepsister is dead!”

Maddy.

I spun around . . . right into Maddy’s fist. Gasping with surprise, I stumbled, the blow leaving me temporarily stunned.

Mason quickly let go off the dazed Andre and advanced on Maddy, his face a mask of rage. “Get away from her.”

Maddy grabbed a hold of me before I could recover, placing me in a chokehold and using me as a human shield.

“Don’t take another step,” Maddy commanded.

Mason froze, eyeing her wearily. “You don’t have to do this Maddy,” he argued, his voice calm. “We can talk about this — we can make things right.”

Maddy sneered and shook her head. “Things will never be right between us. Not after what you did to me.”

“We can talk about that,” Mason said softly, gesturing with his hands. “Just let her go and I’ll talk about anything you want.”

By the tone in his voice, I could tell he was planning something, much like in the library where he’d rescued me from Aubrey. I watched as his hand slowly went to his pocket. He was about to do something and I needed to be ready when he did it.

Except there was one problem.

Andre was recovering and was picking up the large vase off of the floor. And I didn’t have to be a rocket scientist to know what he intended on doing with it.

I opened my mouth to warn Mason, but Maddy placed a cloth over my mouth and nose, muffling my warning.

A few seconds later, I became drowsy and my vision began to darken.

The last thing I saw before I slumped in Maddy’s arms was Andre raising the vase high above his head and slamming it against Mason’s skull.

O
n the floor
, barely conscious, I watched through a haze of pain as Andre grabbed Carly and threw her over his shoulder and went out the front door.

I tried to rise to my feet to chase after them, but fell back to the floor, my skull pulsating with stabbing pain.

Fuck
.

I stayed on the floor, gritting my teeth, fighting to stay conscious through the wall of pain. After about five minutes, the pain abated enough for me to be able to stand up.

A wave a dizziness hit me as soon as I was on my feet, threatening to send me back to the ground. I grabbed a hold of a nearby seat to steady myself, slowly breathing in and out.

I touched a hand to my scalp to assess the damage and pulled back blood. Andre’s blow had cut the skin, but it didn’t seem to be too deep. Still, I could have a concussion and not know it.

Well if I do, it’s going to have to wait
, I thought, wincing at the stabbing pains.
My main priority is finding Carly.

Pushing away the pain, I grabbed my mask, stumbled out of the lobby and back outside. I glanced around the building. One way led up the street back to the parade, the other went to a commercial area where there were a couple of hotels.

I knew that they couldn’t have gone to the faire — a big man carrying an unconscious girl over his shoulder would be bound to draw attention, so I made my way toward the hotels, ignoring my pounding skull every step of the way.

As I made it up the street, my blood boiled with rage and I grew more determined with every step.

I didn’t care where or how far Maddy and Andre took Carly, I was going to find her.

And when I did . . . there would be hell to pay.

“
S
he’s awake now
,” said a feminine voice.

My eyes fluttered opened. I looked around the room, rapidly blinking, until my vision became more focused.

I was lying on a large bed in a white room, filled with opulent furniture. It looked like a hotel suite of some kind. Maddy was standing over me, grinning down at me with malice and Andre stood off to the side. I was scared shitless.

But it wasn’t being in a strange room with the two villains that really made me do a double take, it was the vision of Brian standing in the middle of the chamber.

He was dressed in a suit, gazing at me with an expression of disappointment.

“Brian,” I gasped with shock, sitting up in the bed. “What are you doing here?”

Brian didn’t respond immediately and instead seemingly took a moment to gather his thoughts. “I came here to collect my son,” he said when he was done. “And ensure that he answers for his crimes.”

I shook my head in confusion. “What? What are you talking about?”

“Carly, Mason belongs in a jail cell. He’s never really had to suffer any consequences in his life, and it’ll be the best thing for him. The SFPD have a warrant out for him, but they’re not going to actively pursue him. But the FBI on the other hand . . .”

I scowled. “Unbelievable. You talk about crimes, yet you are working with these criminals. You do realize that, don’t you? These people,” I pointed, jabbing a finger at Maddy’s evil face, “Are far worse. Why are you so set on vilifying your son?”

“These two individuals claimed to know your brother and were confident in their ability to track him down, so I paid them to bring him to me so I can convince him to face the consequences of his actions.”