Chapter 1
Chapter One
One month later…
Razor stood talking to a few of the brothers. On more than one occasion they had all protected one another; all willing to give up their lives for a brother. Coming up in the world of bikers wasn’t a walk in the park. Sometimes it was a minefield.
It meant always being on the radar of other clubs and the cops. It was like having a target on your back. What most people didn’t understand was what it meant to be in a club.
The term “brother” wasn’t the same as buddy or friend. It meant more than being a sibling. It meant that person would be the one standing between their family and any threat.
Being in the club meant his life was always at risk.
Always. His family had been in the lifestyle for decades.
Razor knew all too well, his life had not been his own for a long time.
The way the clubs were run in the past weren’t how they were ran now.
When his granddad started out with the clubs, things were simple.
They were a riding club, men hanging out drinking, fighting, and taking care of one another.
When his dad joined the life, things had started changing.
In the seventies, drugs like meth, heroine, and cocaine had become prevalent.
Most of the guys joining were ex-military coming home to a country that didn’t want them.
Or didn’t know what to do with them. They came home with opioid habits.
After the drugs came running guns, after that came everything else. Brothers killing brothers. Razor didn’t know which was worse. The drugs, the gang mentality, or the killing within the clubs. Some of his feelings he kept to himself.
Looking over towards the bar, he watched people coming and going. The place was busy with a variety of patch holders from another one percent club and their support clubs. It seemed they had stepped into a party.
Keeping his eyes peeled, his thoughts went from club life to home life, which wasn’t much to think about.
“You look like you could use a friend.”
Razor glanced over at a blonde standing next to him. To any other man she might be someone to take for a ride. From her bleached blonde hair to her blood red toenails she did nothing for him.
If he wanted to blow off steam with a woman he’d go to The Red Door for some playtime. It was easier. Cleaner. No attachments. Just uncomplicated sex with rules and a signed contract.
“Nah, I’m good.”
“Whatever.”
Tipping back his beer bottle, he drained it as he tried hard to keep from laughing at the blonde as she stomped off.
Turning his attention to movement at the side of him, Razor noticed a few of the brothers looking on edge. Vicious caught Razor’s attention, letting him know it was time for the guys to fire up the bikes.
“Let’s get going,” Vicious told him, pointing towards the door. “Let’s head to the clubhouse.”
“We should look into purchasing another club. Not a strip club, but a place like this one,” Razor said offhandedly as they all stepped outside.
The club had its own businesses, some legal, some not. Some of the chapter members owned, worked, and ran them. “Bring it up at church this month,” Vicious told him.
Once outside, he tossed the beer bottle in the trash, then straddled his bike donning his helmet and face covering.
Holding up his finger, he twirled it around signaling to the others it was time to go.
As they pulled away from the curb, he watched a girl sauntering down the street.
Taking his time rolling past, he lost sight of her when she stepped inside a small bistro.
Easing by the restaurant he got caught by the redlight.
Glancing to the side, he watched the same girl getting seated at a table perched by the window.
As she slid into the chair and took her glasses off, Razor smiled from behind his face covering.
It was Lottie. The woman definitely had a presence about her.
Even at work in scrubs she rocked her look.
The sound of an engine sliding into gear had him turning back and shifting into first.
It didn’t take long for them to make their way across town.The rumble of the bikes slowly faded as they pulled into the clubhouse parking lot, the air still thick with the sounds of engines and the shared energy of a solid day on the road.
The guys killed their engines, the roar dying down to a satisfying hum of idle chatter.
Their day of riding had been one of those perfect runs, miles of open road, a few beers with other clubs at the designated stops on the poker run, some good-natured talk, and rivalry.
But more importantly, it had given them the chance to size up a few prospects for hang-arounds.
When his phone rang, Razor knew something was up. Checking it, he missed multiple calls from the clinic. Knowing the tension and the headache that was growing would only get worse the longer he put off checking in.
Calling the clinic he listened to his colleague explain he wasn’t feeling well and needed Razor to come in and take over for him.
Every time he had a day off the older man called, having one excuse or another why he couldn’t stay. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear there was something else going on that was causing the man to leave work.
With no one else to cover the other doctor, he had no choice but to go in.“Boys, I have to work.”
“Let me guess, Primo can’t stay,” Hemlock said, shaking his head as he pulled open the clubhouse door. “Razor, you should let me buy the old man out of his share and take me on as a partner.” Staring at Razor, Hemlock wondered when the brother would take him seriously.
Razor looked at Hemlock. “Don’t tease me.”
Hemlock continued staring at Razor with an equally serious look. He’d been wanting in on the clinic for years. “Do you see me laughing?”
“We’ll sit down and talk.” Razor pointed a finger at Hemlock as he headed for his private room to change.
Hemlock decided to take the opportunity and force the brother’s hand on the matter. “How about I come with you to the clinic, and we can talk there.”
Staring at Hemlock, Razor realized the man was serious. If he was right, and Hemlock took over for the other doctor, the clinic could get a fresh start. A much-needed re-vamp. “Get your ass changed. We leave in ten.”
“I’ll be ready in five,” Hemlock said, rushing to change clothes. He’d been filling in for over a year, so maybe it was time to make his move. To become a partner in the clinic.
Twenty minutes later they pulled into the corner lot. Parking the car in the back of the building Razor looked around the empty lot and at the dark aging building as it stood like a soldier against the coming of the night.
The entire corner and the building were all the clinic’s property.
The first floor was the clinic and offices.
The second floor held apartments that weren’t in use any longer due to them needing repairs.
If they could buy out the other doctor, the club could make a play to purchase the building.
If they bought the building and created business suites on the other floors, it would be another legitimate business.
Razor would even consider living on the property once the repairs were made. It would be easier and closer to the clubhouse. Just like he planned, he would suggest the idea at church once he and Hemlock talked.