Chapter 10 #2
The tears that ran down her face as he removed her shoes and positioned her gutted him. Knowing this had to be done, Razor settled her to take the X-rays. Finally, he lifted her from the table and carried her to his recliner in his office. She could relax there while he studied the images.
“Do you have a blanket?” she asked, shivering.
Instantly, the fuzzy one he’d held onto for several years popped into his mind. That one was wrapped at home, waiting for someone special. He’d have to make do here in the office.
Razor grabbed two lightweight ones from the supply closet and stopped for an ice pack. When he returned, Honey slept soundly. Carefully, he spread the blankets over her and set the cooling packet on her injury. She’d doze for a while.
He returned to examine the X-rays. Nothing broken, thank goodness, but a lot of soft tissue damage. The injury would take a while to mend. He decided instantly that she would move in with him so he could ensure she healed. First, he had a call to make.
Returning to his office, Razor closed the door and selected a number on his phone.
“Is she okay?” Lucien’s controlled voice rumbled through the phone.
“It’s a bad sprain. Do you have any contacts at the Kitchen Kraft factory?”
“I do. Is that where Honey got hurt?”
Razor didn’t ask how Lucien knew his Little girl’s name. “Al Reynolds needs to go.”
“Got it. Focus on her,” Lucien ordered and disconnected.
His trust in Lucien had developed over years of observing him operate.
A man of few words but efficient actions, Lucien’s network seemed endless and wide-ranging.
Honey was now part of Lucien’s protective circle.
The MC leader would ensure her well-being.
It wasn’t the same as dealing with that worthless bastard himself, but Lucien was right.
Honey deserved all of Razor’s attention.
With that handled, Razor forced himself to tend to the men sitting in the waiting room. He checked on Honey frequently. After sending the last guy out of the clinic, he returned to find her eyes open.
“Did I break it?”
“Thankfully no. You did a number on everything else, though. No marathons for you in the near future, Little girl,” he told her, keeping his tone light. Razor pulled up a chair to sit next to her and ran his fingers through her hair.
“I used to run a few miles several times a week. That’s when I first noticed I was having problems with my balance and my foot.
Of course, I blamed it on the flu going around, working too hard, or sitting too much.
When I went to the eye doctor because my vision blurred, especially when I got hot, he contacted my primary care doctor because he suspected a serious illness.
Turns out the ophthalmologist was right. ”
“He’s a good eye doctor. Keep him.”
“He’s retiring in a few years, but his daughter is part of the practice. I like her too.”
“Good.”
“So, do I hop around my duplex on one foot while I search for a job?”
“Nope. You’re coming home with me, Little girl. I’ll help you. We’ll see if a kneeler scooter would work for you for a couple of days or if a wheelchair would be better. I don’t want you putting any weight on that ankle.”
“Not the wheelchair!” burst from her lips. He could tell from her expression that she feared having to use that device.
“We’ll try the scooter first. It requires some balance. I’ll help you practice. I have some tricks.”
She smiled at him. “Thanks.”
“Of course. I’m going to wrap that ankle to give it some support, and we’ll head home.”
Her stomach growled loudly. “Would you move my car, or can I leave it in the parking lot?”
“I’ll drive your Honeymobile home.”
“Honeymobile?” she repeated.
“I figured you bought a beige car to match your name.” Razor winked at her surprised expression. “You didn’t plan that?”
“No. My last car was yellow. Wait! That could be honey too.” Her eyes narrowed as she looked at him. “You’re not psychoanalyzing me, are you? Do you think I have some kind of natural sugar fetish?”
He laughed. “Sweetheart, if you have a honey kink, I can’t wait to explore that. I’ll order some rubber sheets.”
When her expression didn’t lighten, he knew his degree bothered her. It made a lot of people uncomfortable. He understood their feelings completely. No one wanted to think someone could figure out their inner secrets.
“I don’t go around searching for mental problems in the people in my life. If there’s something you want to talk to me about, I’m always glad to help you work through whatever is bothering you, but I’d never psychoanalyze you. That’s a huge invasion of your privacy.”
“Really?”
“I also make it a policy to never lie to anyone—especially my Little girl. There’s no future in that, and I plan to keep you.”
When she nodded and smiled a bit, he suggested, “How about if I wrap your ankle and we go have lunch at Inferno before I take you home? Are you as hungry as your stomach says?”
Her tummy grumbled at his suggestion.
“I smashed my sandwich when I fell.”
“I bet the cooks at Inferno can create an even better one for you.”