Razor: A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance

by Landish, Lauren

  Moaning with pleasure, I reached out next to me, to feel his strong muscular body, but all I felt was . . . an empty bed.

  Oh no. Not again.

  My heart pounding, I began to roll out of the bed when I heard a chuckle from somewhere nearby and froze.

  “Looking for me?” I heard a click and then light from a lamp flooded the room. Mason, who was garbed only in his boxers, was seated near the window at a small table, staring at me.

  “What the hell are you doing over there?” I demanded. I was suddenly aware that I was still naked, and Mason seemed to be taking delight in staring at my breasts, but I didn’t care. He’d seen every part of me now anyway, and would hopefully be seeing it for the rest of his life.

  “I was just staring at your beautiful face,” he explained.

  I made a face. “In the dark? And from way over there?”

  “I,” he brought a fist to his lips and coughed. “Woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep. I didn’t want to disturb you.”

  I looked around, stretching my arms above my head and yawned. “What time is it?” It felt like I’d slept forever.

  Mason glanced out the window. “Around 6 am.”

  I grimaced. “Shit. I had no idea I slept that long.”

  “That’s what happens when I unleash the Razor.”

  I snorted. “Pfft. Give me a week and it will be you who’s dead tired when we’re done.”

  Mason’s eyes sparkled with challenge. “I’m going to make sure to hold you to that.”

  I yawned again. “So what do we do now?”

  “We’re hitting the road in another thirty minutes after breakfast. We’ll find a nice little place in Mexico to hole up.”

  I frowned. I really didn’t want to go, but I knew Mason would feel safer. “Um, Mexico?”

  Mason nodded. “Then we’ll decide what non-extradition country we want to go to.”

  I became silent, thinking. Life on the run wasn’t all too appealing to me. As long as I had Mason I’d be happy, but I just hoped it wouldn’t be a long-term thing.

  Mason reached down and took something out of a sack and tossed it at me.

  “What the hell is this?” I asked, making a face and picking it up. It was a damn joker’s face mask with red, rosy cheeks, like the mask from the SAW movies.

  “We’re headed to Los Santos before we cross into Mexico,” Mason explained. Los Santos was a sanctuary city that bordered the U.S. and Mexico. I assumed Mason chose it as our destination because it was known as one of the easiest places to slip across the border.

  “And I have to wear a mask to go there?”

  Mason shook his head. “We couldn’t be going at a better time. Los Santos is holding their annual street faire. A lot of people get all dressed up in costumes to celebrate. Wearing those masks, we’ll blend right in.”

  “Oh joy,” I muttered, fingering the mask. “I can hardly wait. What are we going to do when we get there?”

  “Enjoy the faire a bit and then wind down. We’ll head out in the early morning with a group Shadow set us up with.”

  I thought for a moment. “Do you think Maddy will follow us?”

  Mason shook his head. “Doubt it. Even if she does, we’ll be long gone by the time she catches on.”

  “Mason,” I said, lowering my head. “About Brian. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you at first. And I still don’t know if the hatred is as bad as you think, but the cold, heartless way he talks about you makes me think he wouldn’t care too much if you did end up in prison, or maybe even dead.”

  “That’s because he doesn’t,” Mason said.

  “But why though?” I asked. “You still haven’t told me. I mean, I could see him a little upset at you just dropping out and leaving like you did, but it seems to run deeper than that.”

  Mason sighed. “You killed my boner, you know that?”

  I shrugged helplessly. “Sorry.”

  Mason half-chuckled and then adopted a serious expression. “Just kidding. Ok. I’ve never told anyone this story. Shortly after I was born, my mother died from complications.”

  “I knew that already,” I said.

  “Yeah, but you haven’t let me get to the rest.”

  “Sorry,” I apologized. “You know I have a penchant for interrupting.”

  “Don’t I know it? But that’s what makes me love you all the more. Anyway, Dad was heartbroken for many years because of it. He didn’t know what to do with himself — it was awful. I was too young then to know what was going on, but as I got older, Dad would say things to me that no parent should say to their child.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like he wished I’d never been born.”

  I gasped, putting my hands to my lips. “Mason, that’s horrible.”

  Mason nodded. “I know. And it got worse before it got better. Anytime I did anything bad, he would remind me of how much of an ungrateful little shit I was and how I was the reason why mom died.”

  “Don’t take this as I don’t believe you, Mason, but I’ve never heard him say anything like that to you.”

  “It got better as time went on. And once he got with Sherry, things were better. I guess his heart was on the mend — but both of us have resentment toward one another because of it.” Mason shrugged.

  “Geez,” I said, shaking my head. “I know Mom always blames me for everything, but she’d never go that far.”

  Mason’s eyes grew distant. “You know, when they married, you became the closest person to me in my life, even if it didn’t feel like it. I wanted to tell you things, but I didn’t want you to have those negative emotions in your system or to think I was trying to influence you to hate my dad. And in a way, I think him blaming me for mom’s death shaped me into who I am today. Always wanting to do things my own way — to be a rebel.”

  A tear rolled down my cheek. “Mason, I’m so sorry. I never knew.”

  Mason frowned. “Don’t cry, Carly. It’s not like I’m exactly a total lost cause because of it. You see how good I turned out — a fucking model citizen.”

  I laughed and wiped at my tears with the back of my hand. “A model citizen all right.”

  He went back to what he was saying. “So yeah. That’s where our hate comes from. He blames me for Mom’s death, and when I left, it brought those feelings back up I think. It’s probably worse now with him and Sherry being split.”

  Mason’s expression brightened suddenly. “But enough of the depressing talk. Once we cross the border, all of that bullshit will be behind us.”

  I was silent for a moment, digesting everything. “Do you think we’ll ever be able to come back?” I asked softly.

  While I was happy to be with Mason, it was a pretty sobering thought to think that I might be leaving for good. I mean, it’s not like I had much going on, but it’s all I knew, and leaving the country kind of put a nail into ever fixing my relationship with my mother. It was a thought I wasn’t sure I was ready to give up on.

  “Having second thoughts?” Mason asked as if sensing my apprehension. “You still have the choice to stay if you want to.” He seemed to tense, as he waited for my response.

  “No, no,” I said quickly not wanting him to get the wrong idea and think I was getting cold feet. “I’m committed.”

  Mason sighed with relief, visibly relaxing. “Good. Because after what happened at the cabin, I’d like to get far away for a while.”

  “How are we going to survive, though? What are we going to do for money?” I damn sure didn’t have any stored away.

  “Don’t worry about money, Carly,” Mason said. “I have that covered.”

  I made a face. “Another one of those things you won’t tell me?”

  Mason nodded.

  “I should’ve known.” I shook my head. “So with no job, I don’t understand what we’ll be doing when we get there. It seems like we’ll have a lot of free time with nothing to do.”

  “I think I know what we’ll spend a lot of time doing,�
� Mason remarked with a grin.

  “What?” I asked, knowing what he meant but still wanted to hear it.

  His grin grew wider. “Work on your cock gobbling skills.”

  I snatched a nearby pillow and threw it at him, but he caught the pillow, laughing. “You wanna go, Missy?”

  He lobbed the pillow at my head and I ducked, barely dodging it. Next thing I knew, he was on top of me and I was being tickled relentlessly from all sides.

  “Stop!” I screamed, laughing so hard it hurt.

  Mason grinned and continued his assault. “Not until you say sorry.”

  I tried my best to push him off me, but his weight kept me pinned down. Finally I could take no more. “Mercy!” I yelled breathlessly. “Mercy!”

  He stopped, but stayed on top of me, grinning in my face. I could feel the heat from his body, and down below I could feel his bulge on my stomach as he stared at me.

  Deep aching pulsed down below, reminding me of the danger of engaging in another roll in the hay. I’d have to settle for something a little tamer for now.

  Looking back at him, I wrapped my arms around his neck. He never looked so handsome — like my prince charming.

  “Promise me,” I whispered, my lips inches away from his lips.

  “Promise what?”

  “Promise me you’ll never leave me again.”

  Before he could respond I pulled him into a deep kiss that had me seeing twinkling stars. When he finally pulled away, we were both breathless.

  “I promise,” he said, his eyes brimming with affection.

  Chapter 22

  Carly

  Despite 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.