Chapter 12
Honey squeezed Beatrice to her chest and looked over her shoulder at the suitcases in her backseat.
Razor had packed virtually all her clothes and had remembered all her necessities—even tampons she wouldn’t need for a couple of weeks.
She hadn’t protested after trying to step gingerly on her foot and bursting into tears.
Staying here on her own wasn’t an option unless she wanted to crawl everywhere.
“Are you worrying, Little girl?” Razor squeezed her thigh gently, drawing Honey from her thoughts.
“It’s hard not to. I don’t have a job. I screwed up my ankle,” she said, feeling the weight of the world on her shoulders.
“From what you told me, they’re going to be paralyzed without you. How long do you think it will be before they call?”
“My phone has buzzed several times already. Maybe I should check,” Honey said. She leaned forward to grab her purse from the floor and rummaged inside to grab her phone.
“Got it. Let’s see…. Oh my god! My boss has phoned twenty-seven times.” The sudden rumble of the phone scared her, and she dropped it into her purse.
Snatching it up, Honey glanced at Razor. “Should I answer it?”
“Why not. See what’s happening.”
Honey accepted the call and pushed the speaker icon. “Hello?”
“Where the hell have you been? I’ve tried to get ahold of you for two hours straight.” Mr. Reynolds’s angry voice burst through the phone.
“You remember you fired me, right?” Honey asked, refusing to let him act like he was the injured party here.
“I’ve had to shut down production on one of the lines, and I have a half dozen buyers and vendors threatening to cancel contracts and deliveries.”
Thrilled by the panic that filled his voice, Honey grinned at the device in her hand and waited to see what he would say next.
“Are you there?” her ex-boss yelled.
“I’m here. Have you reconsidered giving me the severance package we talked about?” Honey asked, keeping her tone even.
“I’m not paying you five thousand dollars to fix this mess!” His voice bellowed through the device. In person, she would have been intimidated. Somehow, sitting next to Razor gave her courage.
“I’m sorry to hear that. Good luck.” Honey disconnected the call. Immediately, her phone vibrated again.
“You’ve been working for him?” Razor asked, his face tight with anger.
“Yes, since I was a teenager. As his secretary for several years. He’s a jerk, but it’s a job.”
“How screwed is he without you there?”
“Two hundred percent. I haven’t figured out exactly what he does. My boss doesn’t have a clue. I took care of every order,” Honey told him.
“You should have his position.”
“And his paycheck, but he’s the son-in-law of the owner,” Honey shared.
“Of course he is. Do you think he’ll change tactics to get your help?”
“He’s not capable of being pleasant.”
“I’m glad you’re out of that place. That keeps me from arranging a tragic accident,” Razor said, slowing her car to turn onto an unmarked road with a manned gate. A thick man wearing a leather Devil Daddies vest stepped out of the guard shack.
Honey ignored the device in her hand as Razor stopped next to him and lowered the window. She hadn’t met that guy yet.
“Hellcat.”
“Razor. New wheels?” The biker grinned at him.
“This is Honey’s vehicle. She hurt her ankle so she can’t drive. Will you add her and this car to the approved entry list?”
“Honey?” Hellcat leaned down to glance into the car. “Hi, Honey. Could I see your driver’s license?”
She glanced at Razor to make sure this was a normal request. He nodded for her to proceed. “Why do you need my license?”
“No one is allowed into the compound unless a Devil Daddy vouches for them. I’ll put your license on file, and whoever is at the gate can give you access,” Hellcat explained.
“Oh!” Honey set her phone in a drink holder between the front seats and searched through her bag to find her wallet.
“Got it.” After a brief struggle to free her ID from the tight plastic sleeve, Honey reached sideways to hand it over.
She gritted her teeth as pain flared through her when she jostled her ankle.
“Someone wants you to answer,” Hellcat said, waving her license toward her phone that seemed possessed now.
“My ex-boss. He’s a jerk,” Honey explained.
“You’ll be safe here.”
The certainty of his statement echoed in her mind as Hellcat straightened. He walked around her car, taking pictures of the front and back before heading into the small building. In a couple of minutes, he returned to hand the small card back to Razor.
“Congratulations, Razor.” Hellcat ducked to meet Honey’s eyes again. “Nice to meet you, Honey. Tell me if you need any ex-bosses handled.”
“Thanks, Hellcat. Is Vex in his cabin?” Razor asked.
“Yes. He called up here for his motorcycle about an hour ago, and I told him you’d put it in jail for a week.”
“He’s delusional. Thanks, Hellcat.” Razor drove on through the entrance, shaking his head.
“I haven’t met Vex. Why’d you take his bike away?”
“He tried to mend a stab wound with super glue and go to work, loading a truck.”
“That doesn’t sound smart,” Honey said.
“And now that I have him all stitched up, instead of healing, he thinks he’s going on a ride. I’d tie him to his bed, but he’d enjoy that too much.”
A snort of laughter burst from Honey at Razor’s dry observation. “You guys really like each other, don’t you?”
“We’re brothers. Like a real family, we squabble from time to time, but each member would give his life to save mine and I would do the same for them.”
A chill ran down her spine at the thought of anyone dying. “Is being a MC member dangerous? Are you good guys or bad guys?”
“That’s a hard question to answer. Sometimes what appears bad is good and vice versa.” Razor dodged answering.
“That’s not really an answer,” Honey protested, glaring at him. He never lied. Was the answer too horrifying that he couldn’t tell the truth?
“No, it’s not. Here’s my cabin.” He pulled into the driveway and triggered the garage door opener. “Let’s get you settled and then I’ll carry in your things. Look! You’ve got wheels. Someone brought over a knee roller for you.”
Spotting the device, Honey pushed her desire to know what he was involved with away and promised herself to bring the subject back up later. She leaned forward to check out what he’d gotten for her with a laugh at his statement. “Wheels, huh?”
“No drag racing allowed,” Razor warned. “And no loaning it to Vex.”
“Yes, sir!” Honey smarted off, saluting.
“Yes, Daddy,” Razor corrected, making her melt inside.
“Yes, Daddy,” she repeated, feeling happy. She liked calling him Daddy.
“Good girl.”
Honey didn’t understand why the praise did so much to her inside.
Crossing her fingers, she hoped she never got immune to the phrase.
Or anything he did. She squeezed her thighs together as Razor slid out of the driver’s seat and prowled around the car like a powerful beast. Her hungry gaze followed him, unable to resist his allure.
“Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you and Beatrice inside. I bet I have a movie you might like to watch while you wait for that jerk to double the amount you requested.”
“He won’t do that,” Honey protested as Razor carefully lifted her from the car. She clung to his wide shoulders, enjoying the feel of his body against hers. Razor made her world so much easier.
“We’ll see.” Razor carried her through the garage and into a sterile kitchen.
“Do you cook in there?” Honey asked as he proceeded into a spacious family room.
“Of course! I like to eat.”
When he set her down, she relaxed against the scrumptious leather couch only to sit up straight when he snapped his fingers and announced, “Hold on. I’ve got something for you and Beatrice.”
Razor returned, taking a gray blanket out of a clear plastic wrapper. He shook out the folds before draping it over her. “Now you’re officially part of the Devil Daddies MC.”
Honey rubbed her face on the soft material. Her fingers brushed over a stitched section. She lifted the patch up to study it. “It’s the same design as the one on your jacket.”
“It is. A reminder of who will always be there to protect you. These blankets are special. Lucien created them. Each member of the MC gets one.”
She looked at him carefully, suspecting he’d stressed the word for a reason. “One?” What did it mean for her to have it?
“Yes. We guard it and only give it to the person we know is our Little.”
“Oh. This is so special. Maybe you should keep it safe,” she said, gathering the warmth to fold it.
“No, sweetheart. You don’t understand. That blanket is now yours. I won’t take it back. You’re the Little girl I wish to have it.”
Tears sprang to her eyes. “How can you be so sure I’m your Little?”
“You don’t think I can recognize who belongs to me?”
She searched his face. His gaze held hers steadily, with no doubt or wavering. The broken pieces inside her seemed to snap back into place. Her diagnosis had shattered her. Then to be alone—it had been so hard.
Carefully, Honey smoothed the blanket over herself. Razor helped, making sure her toes were covered. He squeezed her left foot before pulling out his phone to snap a picture of her.
“I can’t imagine I’ll ever forget this moment, but I want to remember it clearly. Now, no zooming around the house on your knee scooter until we practice,” he told her with mock seriousness.
“Definitely. I can tell it wouldn’t be a good idea for me to pop wheelies, Razor.”
“Daddy,” he corrected her automatically.
“Sorry. It takes a while to remember. I’ll work on it,” she promised.
“I’ll look forward to that day,” he told her with a smile.
Meeting his gaze, she said, “Thank you, Daddy. For everything.”
He braced a hand on the seat beside her and leaned forward to press a kiss on her lips.
The heated exchange thrilled her. His touch felt electric, bringing her to life.
Deciding not to question how this man had such an impact on her, she focused only on her enjoyment.
When he raised his mouth from hers, Honey lifted her lips for a second kiss.
“Stop tempting Daddy, Little girl.”
“But it’s fun.”
“It is.” Razor cupped the side of her face and studied her. To her surprise, his scrutiny didn’t make her uncomfortable. His face was solemn and intent, but his lips curved up at the corners. She pleased him.
Honey had never felt so valuable to anyone. “I’m very glad I found you, Daddy,” she whispered.
“Best day ever.”