Chapter 3
Razor rubbed his hand over his face. Walking back down that driveway to wait for Vex last night had challenged his strong need to take care of the precious woman he’d set inside the door. He wouldn’t rush this. Honey didn’t see herself as desirable. Razor had no problem proving that to her.
Picking up his phone, he texted, I hope you slept well, Little girl.
Three dots appeared and vanished several times, and he guessed she couldn’t figure out how to answer him. Finally, she sent, Yes.
Are you working today?
From nine to five.
Her answers were short. Hmm.
Can I pick you up at home at six for dinner and a movie?
Yes, please.
He’d take that short, positive response. At least she hadn’t run away. He suspected Honey wanted to protect herself in case he canceled or messed with her. Razor wasn’t a jerk. He’d make sure she had all the information she needed to understand she could rely on him.
It’s a date, Honey.
She sent him back a thumbs-up emoji. A few seconds later, it changed to a heart. He returned the heart, feeling like a school kid with a crush. Razor shook his head, laughing at himself.
His academic training hadn’t included the use of emojis. His parents had recognized him as gifted from a young age and had challenged him immediately. Razor remembered the fun games they’d set up for him to train his memory and expand his knowledge.
Advancing quickly through elementary and middle school, Razor knew more about math and science than his teachers. Yet his mother had stressed that learning how to interact with others was as important as creating a new strain of peptides to target healing speed.
With his mother’s guidance, Razor had developed social skills.
He quickly helped people figure out that having a friend around who could solve an algebra problem at a glance or recite historical events came in handy.
Many teachers, however, found a super-brainiac student intimidating and were glad when he finished the textbook and advanced to another grade.
He had two degrees because they wouldn’t allow a fourteen-year-old to undertake a medical residency.
Having enjoyed psychology as much as his anatomy classes, Razor got a doctoral degree in that subject before pursuing medical school.
His intensive study of the brain and human nature had come in handy many times in his medical career.
After kicking off the covers, Razor forced himself out of bed. Lucien had messaged that he wanted to see Razor before the morning crew rolled in to work in the warehouse. He couldn’t be late when the MC president requested to meet with him.
He glanced at his reflection as he strolled through the bathroom into the walk-in shower. Razor had slept in the nude for as long as he could remember. Getting tangled up in the sheets was bad enough. Having your junk roughed up by sleep pants or boxers sucked.
Seeing his reflection in the mirror, Razor turned sideways and sucked his stomach in. His six-pack still stood out on his abdomen, but he’d do a few additional sit-ups at the gym. A Daddy wants to look his best. Razor grinned at his image.
He couldn’t believe he’d found her. She’d been to Inferno before, and he’d missed connecting with her.
As much as he hated that she’d fallen, the tumble had brought them together.
He laughed aloud as he spotted the fuzz on his ass.
Who could have known he’d tell a woman about his butt to reassure her?
Thank goodness the Devil Daddies hadn’t heard that statement.
He’d never hear the end of the ribbing. Lifting weights with the club had bonded Razor with the group.
Never a member of an athletic team, Razor hadn’t felt the ties that many did growing up.
The older kids outweighed him throughout his high school and undergrad years.
Razor had joined his father religiously in their garage exercise area.
Working out helped him think through complex problems and kept his head screwed on right.
He continued into the large walk-in shower and flipped on the cold water.
Dipping his head underneath the frigid spray, Razor woke himself up completely.
He shook the excess moisture from his hair before wiping the remaining drops off.
As he used his bodywash, Razor started a list in his mind of supplies he needed to stock in the house for Honey.
“Whoa,” he said aloud. She could always decide he wasn’t right to be her Daddy.
He switched to all the questions he wanted to ask her.
Razor couldn’t wait to find out more about her.
He already knew the most important things.
She’d admitted she was Little, and she’d responded to his kisses eagerly.
Honey seemed as into him as he was into her.
In twenty minutes, he walked out to his bike in the garage.
If he left now, he could grab a cup of coffee in the break area of the warehouse before his appointment with Lucien.
He pulled on his helmet and strapped it on carefully.
Funny how meeting his Little made him more aware of safety precautions.
Merging onto the public road leading to Inferno, Razor steered the bike through the early Saturday traffic. A few people were out and about to beat the rush. Lucien’s teams worked 24/7. Razor didn’t know how the MC president coordinated everything.
He parked his bike in his usual spot next to the first warehouse and the gate to the rear entrance of Inferno. Leaving his helmet on his seat, Razor walked into the warehouse to find some caffeine.
“Razor! We need you!”
Damn, I should have grabbed my bag. Racing toward the voice, Razor answered the shout with adrenaline pumping into his system. “Where are you?”
“Row J. Stab wound.”
Razor sped past the aisles, reciting the alphabet automatically in his head.
D. E. F. He didn’t waste time or energy to ask questions.
He’d deal with whatever happened. Between the machinery and the outside skirmishes the motorcycle club members got into, Razor wasn’t surprised at the emergency.
Still, he mentally crossed his fingers, hoping whatever he found on row J didn’t endanger anyone’s life.
H. I. J! He turned and spotted a cluster of guys circled around someone on the floor. As he got closer, he could see Vex’s face contorted with pain. He needed his supplies.
Razor scanned the group. “Hellcat! Go get my medical bag from my right saddlebag. I’m parked outside.”
Hellcat didn’t ask questions but rushed past Razor. “Back in a flash, Razor.” As he passed, Razor noticed Hellcat’s jeans held splotches of blood.
Razor slowed and dropped to his knees next to the bleeding man. “What happened, Vex?” He didn’t wait for an answer. Grabbing the bottom of Vex’s soaked T-shirt, Razor ripped it from the hem to the neckline to expose the obvious wound.
He shook his head at the biker’s abdomen. “What the fuck is this? Did you try to superglue a stab wound together and then come to work?”
“I’ve seen you do it,” Vex joked. “It didn’t seem too hard.” The biker known as a pain in the ass by the MC looked bad. All the color had vanished from his face.
“Not too hard,” Razor repeated, and shook his head in disbelief. “How much blood did you lose at home?” he demanded, probing the exterior of the cut. From Vex’s grimaces and movements alone, Razor knew it was serious.
“It wasn’t that bad. Like a surface wound. I hit a few potholes on the way in on my bike. Then, I picked up that box. That jogged everything loose.” Vex grimaced at the nearby crate with the dark stain.
“Someone grab me some bottles of water. A lot. And clean towels.”
“Fuck. Stop digging on me.” Vex grunted in pain.
“The knife nicked a blood vessel inside you. When you decided to haul around some heavy shit, you tore something open. I’m attempting to figure out how fucked you are.” Razor didn’t mince his words. The injury concerned him greatly. If his intestines were involved, the infection would be vicious.
“Someone called an ambulance, right?” Razor demanded.
“No, I’ll be fine,” Vex said firmly. He grabbed Razor’s hand and forced the MC doctor to pay attention to him. “I can’t go to the hospital, Razor.”
“You may have to, Vex. Where the hell is Hellcat?”
“Here, Razor. Those damn buckles on your saddlebags slowed me down.” Hellcat knelt by his side and opened the bag, spreading it widely. “Tell me how to help you.”
“Nurse Hellcat. I’m going to die,” Vex joked. Razor pressed the towel Fury handed him against the wound, and Vex groaned deeply.
“No one’s dying today, asshole,” Razor said and nodded at Hellcat. “Thanks. Pour one of those bottles of water over my hands. Fury, press hard on the wound. Don’t pay attention to his whining.”
With the blood washed off, Razor grabbed some gloves. He was working backward, but he now had a clue about the state of the cut. Vex was like a cat. He had nine lives. Well, maybe six left after this fiasco.
“I need alcohol,” Razor stated firmly.
“Damn. Me too,” Vex said. His voice sounded softer than usual. Time was essential now.
“Oh, you’ll get some,” Razor told him. “Grab the emergency vodka. And a bottle of orange juice.” Fury ran toward the breakroom where the MC stored a fifth frozen in the refrigerator. It had come in handy in the past.
Razor had gloves on and had pulled a syringe full of Novocain by the time Hellcat returned. “Vex, swallow two good draws of vodka. This is going to hurt. Then start working on that orange juice.”
“Mmm, a screwdriver. I like those.” Vex took two big swigs from the cold bottle.
When he lifted the vodka to his lips for a third time, Razor pulled the towel away and ordered, “Fury, grab the alcohol. Pour it over his abdomen. Drench the opening and the surrounding skin.”
A strangled scream burst from Vex’s throat. “Razor, tell me you didn’t do that because I beat you at poker last time.”
“Yeah, that’s why. Don’t move. Pokes,” Razor warned and methodically distributed the deadening agent around the two-inch gash. He counted a few seconds and then added more injections inside Vex’s abdominal cavity.
The pain level was challenging, but Vex held perfectly still. It didn’t surprise him to discover how tough Vex was. His backstory definitely wasn’t a fairytale.
He stopped to explain to Vex what was happening. “You’re a lucky son of a bitch. My guess is the asshole got you as you were pulling away.”
When Vex nodded, Razor continued. “As far as I can see without being in an emergency department and having some definitive images, it looks like the knife did some damage to the muscles and skin only. I’ve numbed you the best I can.
I’d move you to the health quarters, but I have to stop this bleeding now.
If you can hold still, I’ll stitch everything up. ”
“Do it.” Vex closed his eyes.
“Drink the damn juice, Vex,” Razor reminded him, giving the man something to think about as he got ready. Fury placed the small open bottle into Vex’s hand. Vex blindly lifted the orange nectar to his lips and drained it.
Razor didn’t allow him time to stew about what was coming.
He ripped off his gloves and pulled out the supplies he’d need.
“Grab a spotlight for me,” he ordered, and like magic, a bright circle illuminated the wound.
With fresh gloves on, he sterilized the area again and started suturing.
Quickly, he found a couple of bleeders to tie off and then repaired the underlying muscle.
As a last step, Razor stripped away the glue Vex had used before closing the gash.
“You done yet?” Vex mumbled as Razor drew a high-powered antibiotic to administer.
“Almost. Let’s get him rolled over so I can give Vex a shot.”
“More? I’m sure I’m fine, Razor,” Vex protested quickly and then groaned as Hellcat moved him. He opened his eyes to glare at his MC brother. “You’re way too helpful.”
“Next time, dodge better. You got blood all over my new jeans,” Hellcat said.
Razor glanced at Hellcat’s torn-up work pants. New? He raised an eyebrow at Hellcat before yanking down Vex’s loosened waistband and administering the potent dose of antibiotic. “You’re headed back to the compound. Who’s off today to take care of him?”
“Scythe’s got the day free,” Street informed him.
“I don’t need a babysitter,” Vex told them.
Razor ignored him. “Great. Street, text him and let him know to check in on Vex every hour. I’ll need him to pick up a prescription as well.”
Razor stopped to assess his patient. His color had improved already. A fraction of the tension in Razor’s shoulders eased. That was a good sign. “You’re off work for two weeks to heal, Vex. Maybe more if that doesn’t knit together quickly.”
“No way. I’ll be better by Wednesday,” Vex argued.
“Text Scythe to break into his house and steal his glue,” Razor said, ignoring Vex’s ridiculous statement.
“You’ll be out for at least fourteen days, Vex.” Lucien’s deep voice held steely determination. “I’ll come see you for a report later this afternoon.”
“Gotcha,” Vex said, relenting.
Hellcat and Fury each took a side and lifted Vex to his feet.
Vex, of course, had some choice words about their care.
Hellcat volunteered to take him home so he could change pants, and the pair headed for one of the vans.
Razor made a mental note to hide the injured man’s bike in someone else’s garage.
Lucien turned his attention to Razor. “You about ready to talk?”
“Sure. Give me five minutes to gather my things and wash my hands.”
“I’ll meet you in my office. You know, if our enemies wanted to whittle down our numbers, all they’d need to do is convince you to switch sides.”
“That’s never going to happen.”
Lucien raised his chin, acknowledging the promise before turning. Razor wondered what was going on as Lucien walked away.
“What does he want to discuss with you?” Street asked.
“I don’t have a clue.”