Chapter 10
In the middle of sewing up a gash on Wraith’s forearm, Razor paused when his phone buzzed in his back pocket. He ignored it to focus on his patient. “Caroline is going to worry. I’ll put a smiley-face bandage on here to disguise it.”
“Thanks, Razor,” the big man said gratefully as Razor tied off the last stitch.
“A tetanus shot and you’re finished. Go home and let that Little girl fuss over you for the rest of the day.
No weight-bearing activities for the next three shifts with that arm.
Light duty here until those stitches come out,” Razor told him as he applied a small row of bandages with emojis on them.
“Really, a poop emoji?” Wraith complained when Razor snuck in an alternative to the cheerful ones.
“Stop getting yourself ripped up.” Razor grabbed the tetanus vial and drew a dose.
“I’m sure I’ve had one of those recently,” Wraith suggested.
“If you puncture yourself with something metal, you get a shot. Caroline would be unhappy if you got lockjaw.”
Wraith shook his head once and rolled up his sleeve. Razor had his choice of bulging muscles to jab. He’d worked out with Wraith in the compound’s gym. The man was a beast.
“Ouch!”
“You can cry if you want. I have tissues over there.”
“Fuck you,” Wraith growled and hopped off the table.
“You’re welcome. Home for today. Light duty tomorrow and all the days to come until that’s healed.” Razor repeated his instructions, suspecting that Wraith would be tempted to rush back to work.
“Yes, Doc. Thank you,” Wraith told him.
He disappeared quickly, eager to see his Little girl, who might need inspiration for the next sex scene in the motorcycle club romance novel she crafted. Razor smiled at the empty room. They were perfect together.
His phone buzzed again. After stripping off his gloves, Razor grabbed the device from his pocket and answered. “Honey? What’s wrong?”
“I got fired from my job at Kitchen Kraft. And I hurt my ankle.” Her voice sounded wobbly and rough. She was crying but trying to hold it together.
Instantly, Razor needed to hold her. His instincts to take care of his Little girl demanded he act. “Where are you, sweetheart?”
“I’m in the parking lot at Inferno. Are you here?”
Razor ran for the door.
“Hey!” an injured MC member in the waiting room called as Razor flew past him and the other three men sitting in the waiting room. They’d been hurt too, in the same accident as Wraith. Razor had addressed the bleeding wound first. They could wait.
“Emergency!” Razor didn’t stop. He pushed the door open and ran across the empty space toward the gate separating the warehouse area from Inferno. Ignoring the greetings from his MC brothers as he dashed by, Razor focused only on getting to his Little girl.
The bustle of Inferno delayed him as Razor dodged customers and the servers.
Finally, he made it back into the sunshine and down the stairs to the parking lot.
Scanning the vehicles, he spotted Honey’s car and raced for it.
The vehicle sat in the middle of four parking spaces, and his heart rate ramped up.
When he yanked on her door, it resisted him. Honey looked up. Her eyes changed from steely determination to desperation. He needed to get to her.
“Honey. Push the unlock button, Little girl.”
She fumbled on the controls. Finally, he heard the click of the lock releasing. He threw the door open and dropped to a knee to wrap his arms around her. “I’m here, Honey. Are you okay?”
“I got fired. And… and I hurt my ankle on the way out,” she told him in a tragic tone as if those two items repeated in a loop in her mind. Honey stopped to scrub the tears from her eyes and smeared her makeup.
“I would have stopped at urgent care, but I guess I don’t have insurance anymore,” she said, sobbing. “I… I couldn’t figure out what to do, so I came here.”
“Thank you, Little girl. You’re at the right place. Let’s get you out of this seat so I can help you.”
“I… I broke my coffee cup,” she said sadly.
“You fell?”
“I got my stupid feet… tangled in a chair… and hit the ground,” she shared with him between sobs.
His heart broke for her. She was so upset.
He needed to get her to stop crying. Razor pulled out a bandana from his pocket and wiped the tears from her face.
He held it to her nose and told her to blow.
When she followed his directions without protesting she could do it, his concern multiplied. She was definitely not herself.
“What a crappy day, Little girl. These tears are going to make your head hurt, and we don’t want that to happen. Let’s take a few deep breaths together.” When her first inhales were shallow and shattered by sobs, he placed a hand on her upper abdomen. “Inhale from here, Honey.”
She nodded. He watched her face still as she concentrated on his suggestions. Slowly, she calmed down.
“Good girl. You’re doing so well. Am I going to hurt you if I lift you out of the car?”
“No. What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to carry you to my office and patch you up.”
“I don’t have any insurance,” she whispered.
“I couldn’t give a rat’s ass about money. All I care about is making sure you’re okay.”
Her mouth quirked with laughter. “A rat’s ass?”
“Or any other part of the rodent.”
“I can walk,” she suggested.
“Not until I check out that ankle. Which side hurts?” Razor asked.
“My right one.”
“You injured your right ankle, and you drove here?” Razor double-checked. She needed her bottom spanked. He stood to slide his arms around her waist and under her legs. Carefully, he maneuvered her out of the driver’s seat.
“I need my purse,” she said, reaching behind to grab it.
“Anything else?”
When she shook her head, he told her, “Find your keys, Honey.”
As she rummaged through her purse for her key fob, she shared, “I drove with my left foot. It was hard.”
Razor shook his head, biting his tongue to keep from lecturing her. Honey didn’t need him to detail the hazards of dangerous driving. She’d probably experienced more than he could imagine. His stomach twisted inside with guilt and concern. He should have been there to help.
“Why didn’t you call me immediately?” he asked, crossing the parking lot with big strides.
When he climbed the steps into Inferno, Honey hid her face against his chest. “I look awful.”
“You are absolutely beautiful, sweetheart.”
Scythe stood at the entrance. “Everything okay, Razor?”
Razor met Scythe’s gaze. “No. Would you move a car for me?”
“Of course. Got the keys, or do I….”
Interrupting the rest of that question, Razor asked Honey. “Do you have them, sweetheart?”
She held them out without peeking.
Scythe took them from her, his brow wrinkling with concern. He glanced back at Razor silently asking how he could help. Razor knew his MC brother was all in for whatever revenge Razor deemed necessary.
“Honey’s car is beige. It’s in section E. You’ll see it. Park it in the back lot near the fence if you can.”
“On it. Your baby’s safe with me, Honey,” Scythe assured her.
Razor didn’t know if the other biker heard her whisper, “Thank you.” He nodded his appreciation to Scythe before continuing through Inferno to his health clinic. Someone held the door for him at each entrance and exit.
Finally, he reached the X-ray chamber Lucien had finally approved a couple of months ago. Razor stretched her gently out on the table. “Do you need some pain medication, Honey, before I check on your ankle?”
“Will you have to move it?” she asked nervously, shifting her foot slightly. Her immediate, pained gasp answered Razor’s question.
“Don’t wiggle your ankle,” he warned her.
“Now you tell me,” she muttered, making him hide the smile that curved his lips upward.
“I’ll take that as a yes. Can I trust you not to move?” he asked.
“Yes,” she promised, nodding.
“Two minutes,” he promised.
“I’ll stay right here.”
“Good girl.”
Razor dashed for the supply of pain meds he kept locked in his office. He grabbed a syringe and filled it with a fast-acting painkiller, vowing her boss would pay for every second of Honey’s discomfort. Returning to the screening room, he found Honey sitting up.
“What part of don’t budge was unclear to you?” Razor growled.
“The table is cold,” she whispered.
“Sorry, sweetheart. It has to be like that. We’ll do this as fast as possible so you can get some relief.” Razor set the capped syringe and an alcohol swab on the upper end of the table.
Honey stared at it, shaking her head. “I don’t like shots.”
“No one enjoys needles.” He helped her stretch back out and rolled her carefully onto her left side. “Bend this top leg and rest your knee on the table to prop you up.”
When she had followed his directions, Razor raised her skirt to reveal the pair of pink panties he’d helped her put on that morning. Quickly, he tugged the waistband down to expose her buttocks. She didn’t struggle at all but trusted him to take care of her.
“This will be cold,” he warned before ripping open the small packet and cleaning her skin. His patented slight pinch a few inches away from the injection site distracted her long enough for him to dispense the medicine.
“You pinched me. Wait, are you done?”
“Yep. You should feel that quickly,” he explained as he helped her roll back flat. He brushed the hair away from her face. “Why’d you get fired?”
“Because Mr. Reynolds hates me. I refused to pay for the mistake he made.” Her eyes crossed slightly before refocusing on him. “Whoa. Is that the medicine working?”
Concealing his anger at her explanation, Razor forced himself to focus on his Little girl now. He’d deal with everything else later. “I’m sure it is. How’s the pain?”
“What pain?”
Razor smiled for the first time as the strain vanished from her face. “Let me move your foot, please. No helping,” he warned, waggling his finger.
She saluted and giggled. “You gave me the good stuff.”
“I did. This is still going to hurt, Honey, but I’ll be as gentle as possible.”