Chapter 36
Chapter Thirty-Six
Lottie’s hospital room was a blur of soft beeping monitors, sterile white walls, and the faint antiseptic smell mixed with the floral fragrance from more than a dozen flower arrangements that decorated every viable surface.
And all of those smells seemed to cling to everything.
She felt fragile, her body stiff and aching with every small movement, but the real discomfort came from the memories.
Flashes of the crash. The blur of the red car, the jarring impact, the sheer helplessness, kept replaying in her mind like a relentless loop.
She couldn’t shake the image of Razor, his bloodied hands trembling as he worked to stop the bleeding, his voice raw with desperation as he called her name. That memory hurt more than her injuries.
Razor had hardly left her side in the first hours after she’d been admitted.
He was there when the doctors stitched her wound, his hand gripping hers tightly enough that she could feel his unspoken fear.
Even when she was too groggy to stay awake, she felt his presence, his protective energy like a shield around her.
Now, as she blinked awake from another fitful nap, her eyes searched for him automatically.
Instead, she found Sway sitting in the chair by her bed, flipping through a magazine she was clearly uninterested in. When she noticed her stirring, she leaned forward with a grin. “There she is. About time you woke up, sleepyhead.”
Lottie managed a weak smile. “How long was I out this time?”
“A couple of hours,” Sway replied, setting the magazine aside, Lottie didn’t need to know she’d been out for more than five hours. “Razor’s grabbing coffee downstairs. He didn’t want to leave you, but I told him I’d keep watch. Don’t worry, you’re never alone.”
Her heart twisted at that. She knew Razor was protective, but the way he and the brothers had rallied around her since the crash made her feel something, she wasn’t sure she deserved so much of their time.
“Sway,” she said hesitantly, her voice hoarse from disuse. “What’s going on? I mean, really? Why is everyone so on edge?”
Sway’s easygoing demeanor faltered for a split second, but she recovered quickly. “Razor’ll fill you in when he’s back,” she said, dodging the question. “For now, just focus on getting better. That’s all you need to worry about.”
Lottie frowned but didn’t push. She was too tired to argue, and the pain in her collarbone reminded her she wasn’t exactly in fighting shape. Instead, she leaned back against the pillows and closed her eyes, letting the quiet hum of the hospital lull her back into a semi-relaxed state.
Razor returned a few minutes later, a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and his phone in the other. His face softened the moment he saw her open her eyes, she was awake, his shoulders losing some of their tension. “Hey,” he said, setting the cup down and moving to her side. “How’re you feeling?”
“Better,” Lottie lied.
He saw right through her. “You look like hell,” he said, his tone affectionate despite the words. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “But you’re still beautiful.”
She felt heat rise to her cheeks, a welcome distraction from the pain. “Thanks,” she murmured, looking away.
Razor pulled the chair closer and sat down, his knee brushing the side of the bed. He took her hand gently, mindful of her injuries. “Listen, I need you to know something,” he began, his voice low and serious. “What happened wasn’t an accident.”
Her breath hitched, but she didn’t interrupt.
“That car… it wasn’t random. I think it was Shannon.”
The name hit her like a punch to the gut. Shannon, Razor’s ex, had been a problem before, but this? This was something else entirely. “You think she tried to…?”
Razor’s jaw tightened. “I don’t think. I know. She made threats, and now this. Until we know for sure, I’m not taking any chances. That’s why one of the brothers is always here when I’m not. And when you get out of here, you’re staying with me. No arguments.”
Lottie opened her mouth to protest but stopped when she saw the look in his eyes—steely, unwavering, and filled with more fear than he’d probably admit. “Okay,” she said softly. “I trust you.”
His shoulders relaxed slightly at her words, but the tension didn’t leave him entirely. “Good. You’re the most important thing to me, Lottie. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
The rest of the day passed in a steady stream of visitors. Hemlock showed up with flowers he’d clearly picked from the side of the road, grinning as he plopped them into a plastic water cup. “They’re wild, like you,” he joked, earning a laugh from Lottie and a scowl from Razor.
Truck brought snacks that the nurses promptly confiscated. “No junk food on my watch,” one nurse scolded, but she softened when Truck flashed his charming smile. “Fine, she can have one bag of chips. One.”
Even the normally stoic Blackjack stopped by, his gruff voice softening as he told Lottie to “get better quick.” It was overwhelming but comforting. Each visit reminded her that she wasn’t alone, and that Razor’s brothers were just as fiercely protective as he was.
That night, when the hospital quieted and it was just her and Razor, she finally let herself relax. He sat beside her bed, his hand in hers, his thumb brushing gentle circles over her knuckles. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“For what?” he asked, his brows knitting together.
“For putting you through this. For being… a liability.”
Razor’s hand tightened on hers. “Don’t you ever say that,” he said, his voice firm but tender. “You’re not a liability, Lottie.” What he wanted to tell her was she was everything to him, instead he chose to say nothing.
Tears pricked her eyes, but she blinked them away, nodding silently. “When can I go home?”
“Hopefully tomorrow. But you’re not going home. You’re coming home with me, remember,” he told her as he brushed his thumb over the back of her hand he was holding.
She was about to lose her shit, “I can’t stay with you.”
“Why not?”
“You don’t need to be worried about me.”
“If you’re not with me, I’ll worry more. We’re both pretty banged up.” He smirked. “Might as well stick together, don’t you think?”
“Yeah. Okay,” she agreed, gripping his hand.
They stayed like that for a long time before a knock came at the door.
Razor glanced over as it came open. Chuckling under his breath, he watched as half the chapter started filing in—arms loaded with food, and more flowers than one hospital room could handle.
Someone shoved a tray of takeout onto the deep windowsill like they were setting up for a damn feast.
And then came the bear. An oversized stuffed thing, nearly as tall as the brother hauling it in over his shoulder, it’s limbs swinging uselessly as he tried not to trip over it.
That finally did it. Razor barked a quiet laugh, shaking his head as Lottie broke first, laughing so hard she had to press a hand to her mouth. Just like that, the weight in the room cracked open.
And for the first time that night, it actually felt like they could breathe again.