That pretty much sums us up. But sometimes we get confused and we don’t know how to act.”
I sucked in a breath. “Especially the damaged ones.”
“Well, I kinda think you got through to Summers in a way nobody else could. Not even his own family.”
I stuck my chin out. “Well, Harrison will have to prove himself to me first. He can’t disappear off the face of the earth and then come and pretend to be a knight on a white horse. It just doesn’t work that way.”
Ryder let out a soft low chuckle. “I nearly pity the fucker. Nearly.”
Chapter 40 — Harrison
Shaking with rage, I struggled to not pull the fucking trigger. I’d uncovered a lot more about our senator in the last few hours than I could comfortably live with. I couldn’t believe that I’d barely stepped off one plane and onto another, but the six hours we flew to Hawaii was put to great use as Savage and I dug deep to get information from our source.
It appeared that the senator had pissed off many more people than what we had thought at first. Beneath his thin veneer of decency and charm lay hidden a dark side of debauchery and corruption that would rival any blockbuster movie script. Sometimes real life was stranger than fiction, and when Savage came to me with a whistleblower source that leaked some of the shit the honorable senator was up to, it became clear that it would be a public service to rid the world of a twisted fuck like Nolan Parker.
Not in the least bit surprised by the bribes and money laundering stories, it was when I found out about the Mexican sex slaves he kept hidden for his pleasure, promising the girls—some as young as fifteen and sixteen—a new life and a green card, that I lost my shit.
During our flight we’d strategized, each man taking on a specific role so that our little coup would run smoothly and without bloodshed. Pity I agreed to that, because my finger was burning to pull the fucking trigger.
My gaze fell on Razor. He was probably as thirsty for a bit of action as I was. He’d leaned forward and with a sneer he spoke to the brawny fucker he was holding down.
“Make my fucking day. Move one more inch and I slit your fucking throat.”
On the way over, Razor had complained when I’d instructed him to use a gun on his target instead of the knife he’d tucked into his belt. I’d heard about the deadly razors in the tips of his boots, wondering if it was urban legend, but seeing the way the biker’s face was filled with anticipation, I’d bet it was all true and that he was just looking for a reason to slice some skin.
The ugly-as-fuck dude groaned as Razor put his foot on the back of his head and pushed his cheek into the ground. For an ex-military man, the hefty fucker wasn’t putting up much of a challenge, and Razor actually looked disappointed.
I feel you, man. It would make my day too if I could put a bullet through the skull of the man in front of me. I shuddered to think of what he may have done to Eva.
Did I really want to know? It was a double-edged sword, because if he’d hurt a hair on her head I’d be making sure it was the last time he hurt a woman. He’d be in a pine box rotting like the filth he was beneath the polished exterior. I hated unscrupulous frauds and women molesters even more than I hated bikers.
At least bikers had the courage of their convictions; they stood for something and they stood with one another. They were not like the kind of man Parker was, who used people for his own gain and discarded them like trash when he got what he wanted.
Razor glanced at me with a pleading expression on his face, one that begged to make somebody bleed. In the strangest of ways, I felt connected to the biker at that very moment.
Seems we weren’t that different after all.
Becoming aware of Cobra snatching cameras from the photographers, I smiled. None of this shit was getting splashed in the media. As much as I wanted to show the world what a fucking creep and dirty rotten scoundrel their elected senator was, there were other ways to deal with him that didn’t get our faces on the covers and names in the