Razor's Mark: (Marked Book 1) (2 page)

Devon pulled out his phone and plugged in headphones before laying down on the table. While Devon got situated, he swapped
his
gloves for another clean pair. This was going to be at least a six-hour tattoo, which would put them right at closing at ten.

Listening to the hum of his gun, he held the barrel and concentrated on the fine details of the design. He changed it slightly, but only to fit his chest. The concept was kick ass, and he wanted to make sure he did it right. It was black and white, but it worked. Ignoring the world around him, he got to work. He didn’t need someone talking to him, but a few times
Tex came over to look
at his work, and Devon asked a question here and there. Once it was done, he cleaned his work before showing Devon to a mirror.

“Damn, this is tight. Oh shit, you made it look like it's part of me.”

“Yeah, I added some lowlights and highlights,
so it makes your skin look as if it is torn and shredded. I had to go back and do some more shading to give it more definition and a 3D effect.” Razor had to say this was one of his better pieces.

“Hell yeah. Fuck me mad. This is, wow, so much better than I thought!”

“Glad you like it. Now come on over here, I want to take a picture of it, and put the goo on before covering it. I’m sure you know all about aftercare and all that shit, right?”

“Yeah, not my first rodeo, man.” After finishing and taking a picture, he settled the bill where he was given a fat tip; he loved those. Drinking money.

“You clean up your station, I’ll turn everything down,” Tex
offered. Razor nodded and threw the gloves away and took his trash out. It was still raining outside, but the nightlife was going strong. After both he and
Tex locked
up for the night, he jumped into his truck and headed home. Getting to his apartment, he parked his truck and headed
inside. That
's when he saw some people waiting for him outside his door.

“Can I help you?” His whole body was on alert, not sure what to expect. He didn’t do drugs or gamble; well, not with cheap ass bookies.

“Are you Jason McCoy?”

“Depends on who's asking.” Both men were in suits, one reached into his pocket and pulled out an ID.

“I’m Agent Broody,
and this is Agent Cane. We’re here to talk to you about your brother.”

“Yeah? What did Mr. Perfect do now?” Razor knew his brother worked at some high tech, high clearance type of job. His parents used to point out that his older brother was more successful and that he was helping people while he simply colored on people’s skin. But they’d died a few years ago, and John was the only family he had left. Then again, his older brother was from his father’s first marriage, so technically they were half-brothers.

“Mr. McCoy, can we go inside?”

“I don’t think so, just tell me what he needs? Is he in some type of trouble?”

“No, none of that. I’m sorry to have to inform
you,
but your brother was killed yesterday.” Razor stood there frozen, not sure what to say or do.

“I think we should go inside; we
have some questions we need to ask you.”
This time,
he nodded and opened his door letting them inside. Somehow, he knew this would turn his world upside down.

Faith Hillman was never seen or heard at work, but if they needed information or something analyzed on a situation, they came to her. She had been working for Hamilton and Rogers for six years now as part of a research and development team. She came straight to them right out of college, which she had graduated early. Now, at twenty-six, she was still one of the youngest in her field.

Currently, all of her training and brainpower were focused on the incriminating information she had before her. And Johnathan was nowhere to be found. He’d given her an assignment but asked for it off the books. What she’d found out could possibly cripple an entire company, and cause a breach in national security.

Not trusting anyone, she gathered her laptop and left the secured building. Everywhere she looked, she felt like eyes were on her. She wasn’t one for being paranoid, but after what she found out, she needed to be.

“Hey, Faith, where you
running to?” It was only about noon on Thursday.

“Oh, heading to get some lunch,” she told Ivy, the receptionist at the front desk.

“Do you want some company?” Okay, this was a first from Ivy.

“Oh no,
that’s okay. I’m just going to read and eat a sandwich at the food court. It’s warmer today.” She smiled sweetly at her, hoping she would buy her excuse.

“Oh, okay.
Well,
see you later then.” And just like that, Faith was dismissed.

Trying to walk calmly to her car, she jumped in and locked the doors. Clicking on her cell phone, she tried to call John again, but it went straight to
voicemail
.
Damn him
, growling to herself she
drove home. Her
one bedroom
apartment wasn’t much, but it would do until she’d saved up enough money to buy a house in Arlington, outside the District.

Getting out of her car, she ran upstairs into her apartment, shut the door and set all three locks. She didn’t know what to do, or who to trust with this. So many people could be involved. John had the rest of the information to tie it
together,
but she’d never expected that she would find what she did. Her body was shaking when the sound of her email pinged. Pulling out her phone, she saw it was from John. As she opened it, it didn’t look normal. Crap, he’d sent an encrypted email.

Grabbing her laptop, she pulled up a secured internet connection before loading her email program. Clicking on John’s email, she started to enter different sequences of encrypted code before a video finally popped up on her screen. It was John. She put her headphones on and listened.

“Hey, Faithy
, I want you to listen very carefully. If you have gotten this email, it means I’ve either been taken captive and can’t get to my computer to reset the program, or I am in fact dead. Either way, I need you to know that you’re in danger. The file I sent you has a second part to it. I sent it to someone else I trust, which is where I’m sending you. My brother, Jason. No one would suspect me to send you to him. He won’t know you’re coming, so you need to tell him I sent you. If he tries to push you away, tell him I’m calling in his debt to me from third grade. He owes me so he'll know what that means. I’m sorry,
Faithy
, so sorry I got you into this mess, but you need to hurry. Go to the shop he works at. It’s called the Ink Spot. I’m sure you can find the address.”

And just like that,
it cut off. Shit, she knew something bad had happened. She knew John didn’t take things lightly when it came to safety. He had only mentioned his brother
once,
and it was when he’d been drinking at a Christmas party.

Looking around her apartment, she didn’t know if it was bugged. Grabbing a few pairs of jeans and shirts, she headed out, acting like she needed to do laundry. Her apartment complex had machines in the basement, which would allow her to sneak out the backdoor. Once in the basement, she pulled the small bag from the bottom of her basket out before loading it with her stuff and taking off.

She left her car
and headed to the metro to hop a train to the area of the shop. Who knew all the weird tricks her brother had taught her would ever come in handy? Faith pulled up maps on her phone and was relieved that she’d be able to walk to the shop from the subway. She memorized the area before she tossed the phone into a nearby trashcan then jumping onto the green line. At least she knew where she needed to go now.

The train stopped,
and Faith made her way to the street. It wasn’t a bad
neighborhood,
and it was one with a decent amount of foot traffic. This made her feel a little at ease with so many people around. Finding the building was easy enough with its
bright,
bold colors that resembled a splattered pattern. Opening the door to the shop, a woman’s greeting was the first she heard.

“Hi, sugar, welcome to Ink Spot. How can I help you?” A beautiful, curvy woman with rainbow colored hair stood at the counter.

“Yes, hi. I’m hoping you can point me to the right person. I need to see Jason.” “Jason?” The woman said his name as if trying to figure it out.

“Yeah, I-I mean a friend said he works here.”

“No, Jason. Oh shit, do you mean Razor?”

“Oh God, I don’t know. I was told a Jason worked here.”

“Someone call me?” She looked
over,
and a man with hair dark as chocolate and several tattoos came walking out from a back room. He stalked to the counter while looking her up and down as if weighing something.

“Yes, are you Jason?”

“Depends on who's asking. What’s it to you, kitten?”

“Um…can I talk to you privately for a moment?”

“Razor?” the colorful woman asked.

“It’s okay, Sparkle, she doesn’t look like she bites. Can I use the office for a second?”

“Sure.”

“Follow me.” And he turned and walked away. Faith followed on shaky legs. Praying she hadn’t made a mistake. Once in the office he shut the door behind her and leaned against the desk. “So, what do you need?”

“Are you Jason McCoy?”

“I said it depends on why you are asking.”

“I’m here because of your brother, Johnathan.”

“You know Johnny?”

“Yes, I do. Do you know where he is?”

“Oh shit, kitten, I hate to be the one to tell you, but he was killed a few days ago.”

Faith saw the world start to spin. John had told her to come to him if something happened, but she had secretly hoped it was a glitch in the
system,
or that maybe he was keeping a low profile. But hearing his brother confirm that he was killed, was all she needed. Now it was only a matter of time until they found out she knew what was going on as well.

“Damn, are you okay?” Jason was right in front of her now, kneeling as she started to shake and fall to the ground, unable to stand on her legs. “Were you his girlfriend or something?”

“No, no we weren’t dating. We worked together, but he is, or was, one of my close friends.” The tears started to well in her eyes as she tried to blink them away.

“Here, come sit over here for a minute.” He picked her up and carried her over to a small couch then sat down next to her. “Why did you need to see me?”

Faith forgot for a second about why she had come, but she needed him to know. John was
dead, and it seemed the only one he trusted her with was his brother.

“You are really Jason?” She needed him to actually confirm it.

“Yes,
I am. Call me Razor. Only Johnny called me that.
Kinda hard to hear it right now, ya
know.” She looked up at
him,
and instantly she noticed similar features between the two. They both had the same soft brown eyes and strong
jawline
.

“I’m Faith.”

“Faith, I like it. Why are you looking for Johnny if you work together?”

“He told me to find you.”

“Find me, why?”

“Because he said he sent you something and that I could trust you to keep me safe.”

“Well I haven’t gotten anything from him, and as for keeping you safe, I need to know what from. An ex, an evil stepmother
… you need to be more specific.”

“I need you to keep me safe from the Department of Defense. They killed John, and he thinks they’re going to kill me next.”

Razor didn’t know what to think. He just heard about Johnny’s death last night; however, he couldn’t stay home and think about it, he needed to work. Johnny was his older brother and the only family he had left. The last time he’d talked to him was at their parents’ funeral five years ago. Now he was supposed to take care of some woman he didn’t know? She was a
mousy
little thing too, with her blonde hair pulled back into a tight French braid. She seemed to have a decent figure, but it was hard to tell under
ill-fitted
jeans and a large blue hoodie.

“Look, kitten—"

“Faith.”

“Huh?”

“My name is Faith, not kitten.”

“Right, anyway, I don’t know what Johnny was thinking sending you to me, but I can’t help you. And how do I know
he
sent you to me?”

“I have a video of him telling me to.”

“Can I see it?”

“No, I need a secure network to pull up the email again.”

“Well, no video
means no helping. Kit-Faith, you are barking up the wrong tree.” He went to stand and leave, but she started to shake, and he worried about her getting sick. “Look, maybe try the police or something.”

“No, he said
you
and only
you
.”

“I can’t do it.”

“Wait, he said something else. Something about third grade. He said you would know what it meant.”

Shit, Johnny did send her. Fucking bastard.

“Damn, okay, well let me see if I can take off or leave you here for a bit.” She nodded as he headed out the door.

Third grade was a hell of a time and Johnny had been in fifth grade at the time. Some kids had come after him because he had told the teacher they were smoking behind the school. Razor tried to fight
them,
but it was four on one. He was small for his age. They were kicking the shit out of him when Johnny came running around the corner. One of the older kids pulled a knife and went to stab Razor, but Johnny jumped on him taking a knife in his leg. The kid went crazy, but Johnny didn’t stop even with the knife in his leg, he started to punch back until someone came and got him. If Johnny hadn’t come, they would have killed him. He owed
Johnny,
and now that shithead was collecting his debt from the grave.