Razor's Edge: Men in Blue, Book 2 (23 page)

“I saw the marks.” JRad added while she blew her nose. “They’re everywhere on her abdomen. Dozens of shallow slices. Meant to sting like hell but not scar. How the fuck could anyone do that?”

“You don’t have to say anything else, Izzy.” James shifted as though to remove her from the crowd. “Enough.”

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “There’s not a lot left.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah. I can handle it, James.”

“I’m not sure I can.” The sheen of tears in his eyes surprised her.

She pressed a delicate kiss to his clamped lips. After hugging him tight, she rested on his shoulder. “I thought I had reached my limit. I opened my mouth to scream, to cry, to beg them to stop. I almost moved, to hell with whatever that crazy lady had told me. But she showed up again. She shouted over their catcalls and the grunts of some of the men who had started touching themselves.”

“Shit!” Matt stalked from their group into the kitchen.

“Lily called them off. She warned them they were too close to ruining someone’s merchandise without having paid for it. They gave her some lip about riling them up until she offered them free service upstairs, whatever the hell that means.” Isabella sighed. “In any case, it was effective. She proclaimed the bidding open for twenty-four hours then ushered them from the room.”

Relief had nearly knocked her unconscious.

“I heard her talking to Malcolm. Like a child. Similar to how she’d talked to me. She told him to run along and play since he’d pleased the Master for once. He seemed hesitant. She shooed him off, after promising him she’d look after me. Of course, he didn’t hang around.”

“I’ll kill that bastard.” James vibrated with anger beneath her.

“I would gladly settle for breaking free of him.” A tear splashed onto their joined hands. She couldn’t say who it belonged to.

“Lily untied me. She apologized. Swore she’d had no idea they intended to hurt me. She didn’t have time to stay or she’d risk raising suspicions. Still, she hurried to clean the blood off me, bandage the area and wrap the envelope between the layers of gauze. While she worked, she told me I had a thirty-minute window. The next day…last Tuesday…at four thirty.”

“The day of your press conference.”

She nodded at Tyler.

“Malcolm thought she would bring the buyer then. She planned to delay him until five, the best she could do without raising suspicions. They’d cleared the house to protect the bastard’s identity. She told me why Malcolm wouldn’t be home along with some other details. I can’t remember. All the details sank into the haze in my mind when she led me to a room. It held dozens of beds. Women were chained there. Not moving much or fighting. They looked at me like I looked at them—listless, dazed and defeated. I
had
to help them. That’s all I could think about. I think I tried to set them free. Someone slapped me. Lily? I don’t know. I couldn’t focus. I think I passed out, or zoned. When I came to, I had my dress on. Malcolm had dumped me on top of our bed in his mansion and disappeared. My bad ankle had been lashed to the bedpost.”

Jeremy traced the edges of the support there with the tip of his finger.

“I would have thought it all some crazy dream if not for the bandages, the envelope and my throbbing ankle. No way would I take some psycho bitch’s word for it and wait for the next day. I tried to break away. It was no use. When a couple hours had passed with no change, my panic started to evaporate. I could think a little clearer. I ripped the envelope out of the bandages and stuffed it between the mattresses. Thank God because not ten minutes later, Malcolm stumbled into the room with a huge grin on his face.”

She shuddered. “He seemed drunk…or…something. I couldn’t help it. I freaked. I screamed at him, tried to kick him. He pinned me to the bed, snarling in my face. He told me it was about time I started earning my keep. He refused to let me ruin his plans. When I argued, he backhanded me. That’s how I ended up with the black eye the reporters loved so much.

“Not exactly husband of the year material.” Isabella couldn’t help the sarcasm pervading her speech. “But, hey, the craziest bastard of all has to be the one who planned to pay upwards of five million for the right to rape a virgin. At least I wasn’t dumb enough to marry
him
.”

“Izzy—” Razor’s tortured groan couldn’t stop her.

“It’s not about me, James. Please, now you know. You guys have to help me. You have to help
them
. No one else will.” She sighed. Relief wilted the determination she’d powered herself with these past few days. “Those women need us.”

Razor rested his palm on the cool door when he called softly, “You okay in there, Izzy?”

A sniffle migrated through the thin barrier separating them. He ached to hold her, to comfort her. She shouldn’t have to suffer alone anymore. Never again, if he had anything to say about it.

“Can I come in, princess?”

The lock
snicked
a moment before the knob rotated. He squeezed through the crack she’d created to admit him. Izzy sat cross-legged on the floor, her knee blocking the door from swinging all the way open in the confined space.

Once inside, he relocked it before joining her on the braided rug Lacey had bought to dress up his sink. Their shoulders rested on the cabinet beneath the basin. For the space of several breaths he didn’t speak, opting to sit in silence while she tore off another strip of toilet paper to blow her cute nose.

When she finished, he set his left palm face up on his knee. She entwined their fingers, squeezing his hand and hanging on. Thank God.

Razor hated to make things worse for her. He had one more shred of bad news to share before he could help her recover from the chaos of the morning. At least now she’d be better protected. The guys could work in the open around her. Of course, she didn’t realize he’d been on the case all along. Guilt burned his conscience. No matter how he’d framed it, the chief had refused to grant his request to brief Izzy on all the facts. He’d been ordered to maintain his cover.

For the first time ever, he hated his job.

“Go ahead, James.”

His head swiveled until her watery gaze met his. “With what?”

“Whatever it is that has you rubbing your scars. I can take it.”

His right hand froze in its circuit across his chest.

“We sent Clint undercover as an agent from the studio to pick up Gerard from your father’s estate. He told your father you’d asked for the butler to come to the taping. We planned to ask him questions en route.” Izzy had identified the man as a witness who could corroborate most of her story. She’d told them of how the butler had assisted her when she’d fled. How her father had not. “I’m sorry, Izzy. He’s gone. He quit.”

“What? That can’t be right.” She frowned as she angled toward him. “He has nowhere else to go. I asked him to come with me when I moved in with Malcolm. He declined. He’s lived at the estate almost all his life. His wife headed the cleaning staff while he managed the outdoor crews years ago. When she died of breast cancer, I think he… Well, he told me once, leaving would be like saying goodbye to her memories. He said he could never do that.”

Razor cursed under his breath.

“You have to believe me. He’s in trouble. I know it.” Izzy sprang to her feet in the tiny enclosure, pacing to the tub and back. “They were soulmates. They stared at each other across the room when they thought no one watched. Touched each other every chance they could—a caress while transfering a basket of laundry, a peck on the cheek while passing by or strolling arm in arm while they walked in the garden at night. If it weren’t for them, I wouldn’t have known what real love looked like. That it existed at all. They—”

“Shh.” He grabbed her around the waist, tugging her close. “I understand.”

“You do?” She peeked from beneath those thick lashes at him.

“Yeah.” He nuzzled the corner of her lips. “I’ll never go to sleep in my bed without remembering last night. How hot you were. How sensual. How sweet.”

Izzy blushed. She wrapped her arms around his neck, dragging him closer for a kiss that speared straight toward his heart. He wished he could show her what it could be like between them. He’d sacrifice another Christmas with his family, maybe five or ten, to make love to her. To take away a fraction of her pain.

He wouldn’t make a move though. He wouldn’t beg her to reconsider.

Razor would rather die than pressure her to abandon her values despite the fact her bastard husband didn’t deserve her consideration. In his mind, the fuckwad hadn’t truly married her. He’d conned a young, unsuspecting virgin into signing away her life along with her wealth. Simply to own her. A priceless trophy he didn’t really want.

Izzy separated their lips long enough to whisper, “Am I doing something wrong?”

“No, princess.” His hand flexed over the firm swell of her ass. When had it wandered there? “You’re perfect. Being around you drives me crazy. I want to make you burn. It would be so easy for us both. You’ve locked all your passion inside. I don’t know how you did. It’s hard for me to follow your lead.”

A fresh tear squeezed from her puffy eyes. “Can I tell you something else?”

His heart skipped a beat at the dread creasing her pale brow. “Anything.”

“I ran in here because I was scared you’d see. They’d see.”

“See what, Izzy?” Razor smoothed her hair off her checks, tucking it behind her ears.

“Even though I felt sick when they touched me… Even though I’ve never been so scared in my life…” Her graceful throat flexed. No sound came out.

“You were aroused?” His arms banded around her, absorbing the shivers wracking her body.

She nodded against his chest. “How fucked up am I? From the moment I put on the outfit Malcolm had picked out to the time I woke up in my bed, something pulsed through me. Beneath the fear, confusion and pain, it lingered the entire time. Desire. Hot and dark. Forbidden.”

“You’re twenty-two years old. You’d never had an orgasm.” He had to pause to catch his breath when he remembered her first. “Adrenaline can do extreme things. I think it’s natural for your body to react—”

“It didn’t feel natural. I couldn’t resist it.” She shook her head. “Plus…”

“What, Izzy?” He tipped her face up so she could see his acceptance. Nothing she admitted would change his opinion of her bravery, her generosity or her compassion. Those things mattered to him, not some crazy physical reaction she’d had while under extreme duress.

“When I came to in the dungeon, I thought Malcolm had tied me.” A deep flush crept up her neck to her cheeks. “I thought if that’s what it takes… I kind of liked it.”

“Lots of people enjoy being restrained by a trustworthy partner.” He groaned. “It’s called bondage.”

“Have you tried it?” Her genuine curiosity made him hard as steel.

“Yeah.” He decided to give her as much of the truth as he could. “I enjoy strapping a woman to her bed. I’ve gone to clubs a couple times before. Maybe even the legitimate side of the one you were at.”

The thought had his pulse slowing a tad. Had women suffered in the basement while he played with a willing partner above them? What kind of cop did it make him if he hadn’t had the slightest clue?

“So, there’s nothing wrong with me?” She gnawed her lip until he licked the spot she abused.

“I told you already. You’re perfect.”

A ghost of a smile tilted her full lips as she rocked her hips, stroking her belly over the bulge of his erection. “It hurts. I want you so bad.”

“Believe me, I know the feeling.” He leaned in, bumping her shoulders into the wall behind her. He slid his palms along her arms until they reached her wrists. His fingers encircled the dainty bones there before raising them and pinning them to the wall beside her face.

The moan she couldn’t repress spurred him on.

Razor crowded her, stealing any iota of personal space she had remaining. They were plastered together from head to toe. She undulated with him, urging him on. As if he needed encouragement. The pebbled tips of her breasts gouged him through the thin cotton of the shirt he’d dressed her in.

Beneath it, she would be bare. He debated his ability to bring her pleasure without seeking his own for less than two seconds before he stole a final taste of her lips, intending to sink to his knees. He would binge on the slick arousal perfuming the air, causing his nostrils to flare in an attempt to catch more of her scent.

As soon as he finished devouring her mouth and her mewling cries for more.

“Razor!” Two fierce knocks accompanied JRad’s shout. At the ruckus, they jerked apart like guilty teenagers caught making out. Not that they could put much distance between them in the tiled box of his bathroom.

He had to try twice before he could answer. “Yeah?”

“The network called. You’re late.”

Damn it! He’d lost track of time. “Give us a minute, okay?”

“No more. We can’t afford to tip off anyone watching. Things have to seem normal.”

“Understood. JRad, do me a favor? Put out a missing person on Gerard. Something’s not right there.”

“I’m on it. You two have to move. Now.”

After several regulated breaths, Razor turned to the sexy sprite lounging against the wall. Her sparkling eyes and mussed hair complemented the flush of arousal painting her cheeks bright pink.

“Are you sure you’re up for this?” Screw the investigation. If Izzy balked over the show, he wouldn’t force her do it. “How’s your ankle?”

“It’s fine.” She answered without rotating it or putting all her weight on the injured joint. “I’m ready, James. I wasn’t lying during our practice. I need to do well in the competition. I have to prove to myself I can cut it on my own. If I work hard, things will turn out okay, right?”

“Better than, princess.” He cupped her cheek in one palm then promised, “I’ll do my best for you.”

“Thank you.” Izzy’s lips brushed the center of his hand. “For everything.”

She shoved past him, into the other room and began to dress. “Remember your posture. Keep your arms up, shoulders down, chest out…”

Chapter Sixteen

Razor gripped the arm of the makeup chair so tight he expected it to dent. Every minute they kept Izzy out of his sight had him more on edge. The producers had refused to allow him in her dressing room. Too much to do, too little time, until they went on the air in front of hundreds of thousands of viewers kicked back in their ratty PJs while he suffocated in this ridiculous tuxedo.