The next morning, the apartment felt like a pressure cooker.
Jax was on the phone, pacing like a caged animal. “Bring Razor in. Alive. I want to look him in the eyes when he explains why he sold us out.”
I sat on the couch, wrapped in one of Jax’s shirts, my body still sore from last night’s intense lovemaking. The bank records and the new photo still burned in my mind. The mysterious sender was getting bolder, and now Razor one of Jax’s most trusted brothers was at the center of it.
Jax ended the call and came to me, pulling me into his lap. His hands were gentle as he stroked my hair.
“I’m sorry you’re caught in this,” he murmured, kissing my forehead. “Razor was with me for eight years. I trusted him with my life. If he’s working with Marcus… I need to know why.”
I looked up at hi
