Razor (Twisted Devils MC Book 1)

by Zahra Girard

  “Samantha, Dr. Ayers is on leave. Indefinitely. He came in earlier today to lobby for you — persuasively, I might add — and then he abruptly took some personal leave. He looked injured and disturbed. His face was busted. He says it was because he took a fall in the shower, but it honestly looked like someone had beaten the crap out of him.”

  I suppress a laugh. I know he didn’t fall in the shower; my man must’ve gotten to him. I wish I could have been there to see it happen. Even imagining it is insanely gratifying.

  “In that case, I’d love to come back. And I can wait on the whole thing with Dr. Ayers.”

  Wait, but sure as hell not forget. As soon as that asshole comes back to the hospital, I will lay down the law with him. Maybe I’ll have Razor kick his ass again, just for fun.

  “Thank you, Samantha. Take some time and call me when you know when you’d like to start. I know the last week has been difficult for you, so there’s no rush. We’ll be happy to have you back whenever we can get you.”

  “There’s one other thing, Jackie,” I say, hesitating. My heart is still raw. Yesterday’s events come flooding back stronger and, with each passing second that I spend crushed under the weight of those violent memories, the world drains of color. Even though I want to get back to work, there is so much pain I need to process first.

  “Yes?”

  More than a few seconds pass before I’m able to talk. It’s like there’s a crushing weight on my chest. It’s debilitating.

  Why is it so hard to ask for help? I spend so much of my life helping others; I know there’s nothing shameful in it — so why am I hesitating?

  “I need to talk to someone before I’ll be able to come back. And I think I will need real professional help to understand and process everything I’ve been through. Do you know anyone I could talk to?”

  “I understand, Samantha. I was in your place, once. Different circumstances, but I needed help to figure things out and understand the things I’d been through. Let me make a couple calls and I’ll see if I can get you a referral. We have a couple great counselors on staff and I’ll see when the soonest is that they can fit you in.”

  “Thank you, Jackie.”

  “Take care, Samantha.”

  I hang up the phone and dial Razor.

  “Yes, Florence?” He says.

  Just hearing his voice lifts me and lights a warmth inside my chest that shelters me from the numbing chill growing in my heart as the pain and terror from the other night swallow my consciousness.

  He is my strength. My protector. My warmth.

  My partner. My lover. My friend.

  I’m going to be OK.

  “I just got an interesting call from my old boss. She wanted to hire me back.”

  “Well, isn’t that good news.”

  He’s smiling; I can hear it in his voice.

  “Do I want to know how you made that happen?”

  “Not unless you want the full details about how Stone and I kicked the shit out of that son of a bitch, Dr. Ayers.”

  “Stone, too?”

  “Without you, Tricia might’ve died. As far as he’s concerned, you’re club royalty.”

  I sigh. Relieved, and also trepidatious about what being ‘club royalty’ might entail. Is that a good thing? Or am I going to have to get some tattoos and start carrying a gun around?

  “Thank you, Razor.”

  “You don’t need to thank me, Florence. You earned this one. Fuck, the way you just leaped in to save Tricia even though you were all beat up… It was hot.”

  “You think that was hot?”

  “I think a lot of things you do are hot.”

  I pause. Think for a moment. Though he’ll deny taking credit for everything he’s done for me — and, I suppose, he’s right in a way that I’ve earned much of this myself — I still am racking my brains for some way to show my appreciation to this fearless and supportive man.

  Then it hits me.

  There’s something I can give him that he’s always wanted and probably never had before.

  “Are you busy next Friday?”

  He grunts. “Nothing I can’t cancel if you need me.”

  “Come by my place Friday night. Say, seven o’clock.”

  “What do you have planned?”

  “A surprise. A thank you.”

  “There are a lot of ways to say thank you, Florence.”

  “Oh, I’m sure I’ll have sex with you before Friday. This is something special, Razor. Just bring yourself and be ready for a nice evening.”

  “Then it’s a date. See you then, babe.”

  I hang up the phone. I’m smiling. Pure joy and excitement in my heart. It’s been too long.

  I can’t wait till Friday.

  I will show that man just how much I love him.

  And he has no idea what I’ve got in store for him.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Razor

  I’m not sure what to expect when I park my bike in Samantha’s driveway. A date? Some kinky sex toys that would make even Chief Barnes blush? My imagination is burning in anticipation, cooking up all kinds of sexy scenarios. Though, when I get off my bike, I’m surprised to see I’m not alone — my grandmother’s car is here. That’s more than enough to make me think this will be a different ‘nice evening’ than the one I was expecting.

  Pausing, I take a second for myself in the driveway. There’s so much good in my life right now that I’m not sure what kind of surprise Samantha could give me that could make me happier than I already am. She’s already done so much that I don’t see how she could top herself. But if anyone can, it’s her. Brilliant, strong, loving, she amazes me every single day.

  The breeze shifts and something delicious — steak and roasting potatoes — hits my nose and suddenly I’m clearing the last bit of distance between me and the door at a run.

  When I bang on the door, my nana answers.

  She’s got a glass in her hand that I’m sure is just full of straight bourbon. The cherry that sits at the bottom of her cup is probably just for appearances.

  Maybe at one time her cup also contained a few ice cubes.

  “Right on time, dear,” she says. She’s smiling. And wearing an apron. “Come in.”

  Through the open door, the smell of sizzling steaks wafts even stronger and I take her invitation without hesitation. I’m drooling.

  “What is this?” I say.

  “Oh, you’re here!” Samantha pokes her head out of the kitchen, smiles at me, and then ducks back inside. She reappears a moment later with a bottle of beer that she gives over to me. “I can’t chat long. But I love you and I want you to relax and enjoy yourself. Now, I have to get back to work — there are things on the stove.”

  Ignoring her protests about stuff burning if she doesn’t get back into the kitchen, I sweep her into my arms and give her a deep kiss that makes my nana snort in disdain.

  “I missed you,” I say.

  “You saw me last night, remember? Now, let me go so I can get back to work. This is important.”

  I let her go. “I still don’t even know what this is.”

  “When’s the last time you had a real family dinner? Everyone at one table sharing a meal?”

  “Years. So long I don’t remember. Mom was never in any shape to cook and, well, you weren’t that good at cooking either, nana.”

  “I’m still not. Florence kicked me out of the kitchen once she saw what I was doing to the potatoes.”

  “Then why are you still wearing an apron?”

  “Because I like this apron. William gave it to me and he always said it flattered my figure. I have a lot of good memories wearing this apron. And nothing underneath.”

  “Don’t start.”

  She swirls her cocktail and smiles. “What a man your grandfather was. Insatiable.”

  I leave my grandmother to those memories of hers and head into the kitchen to watch my Samantha work. She is a whirlwind of activity — searing a steak
to perfection in a skillet, basting it in butter and herbs, while taking the occasional peek into the oven to check the roasting potatoes.

  “How did I get so fucking lucky to get you?” I murmur in her ear as I come up behind her and put my hands on her waist.

  “You literally held me at gunpoint.”

  “Worth it.”

  “It was. Now, keep back — if you make me burn these steaks I will smack you.”

  It’s hard as hell taking my hands off her, but I step back and let her work. She’s so focused — moving fluidly, just like she’s on the floor of the emergency room — that it’s entrancing.

  I clear my throat. “How are you holding up today?”

  She’s so quiet at first that I think she doesn’t hear me, but then she shrugs and then shakes her head.

  “It’s still hard. Figuring out my brother’s funeral arrangements these last couple days is making it harder. It’s making everything raw. And it’s stressful. There’s some family flying in to LA tomorrow — a couple cousins, aunts, uncles — and the service will be at a funeral home down there. Once that’s done, it’s all about getting my life back together. Having tasks and chores to do helps, and I’ll be so thankful when I get back to work… but until then, I don’t know. I have my first counseling appointment on Monday and I’m really looking forward to it.”

  “Do you want me there?” I say.

  “No. Thank you. But I want you right here waiting for me when I get back. I’m going to need you.”

  “Anything, babe.”

  “Thank you. But let’s just talk about the good stuff tonight, OK?”

  “Like your cooking? It smells amazing. What made you do this, anyway?”

  “To thank you. I know how much family means to you and, with how close we’ve gotten, I wanted to bring together the people close to us. Our family,” she says. “Will you set the table and put more beers in the fridge? Trips, Rusty, and Stone and his family should be here any minute. Plus, you know, most of the rest of the MC.”

  I stare in surprise for a second. I’d been expecting a small dinner; me, her, and my nana. This is so much more. So much better. “You invited them all?”

  “Pretty much. They’re your family and I’d like to get to know them. I want to be a part of your life, too. Officially. What’s the term you bikers use?”

  “Old lady?” I say, grinning wider than the first time I started up my own Harley. “You serious?”

  There’s a knock at the door and the sound of voices out in the driveway. I hear Trips and Stone and Rusty and Mack, all of them jawing at each other and more than a couple remarking on how good Samantha’s cooking smells. Pride fills my chest.

  Pride and love.

  Sam looks away from her cooking long enough to smile at me. “I’m serious. About this and about us. I love you. Now go get the table ready. We’ve got guests.”

  “I love you, too.” I kiss her cheek and, with my heart fuller than I could have ever imagined, I head to answer the door.

  The whole club is waiting for me outside. Already, I know tonight will be a night to remember. Damn does it feel good to know my whole family will be under one roof and sharing a home-cooked meal. All I’ve wanted, in everything I’ve done, is to keep these people safe so I can enjoy these moments of true togetherness. Now I have it.

  And it’s all thanks to her.

  I look back over my shoulder and smile in the kitchen's direction.

  I really am a lucky man.

  “Something smells damn good, brother,” Trips says.

  He’s first through the door and he’s even brought a case of beer. Which is probably a good thing considering how much my brothers can drink.

  “Yeah, that’s my old lady’s cooking,” I say.

  “I call dibs on leftovers,” Trips says.

  “Like fuck you do,” Mack says. “You can’t fucking call dibs on a whole fucking meal, lad. That’s just fucking deviant. And deviance is the sole domain of Officer Rusty.”

  “You going to cuff me for claiming the leftovers, Officer Rusty?” Trips says, holding out his wrists.

  “You couldn’t afford me,” Rusty says.

  “We’ve got ice-cold beers waiting for you all. Get inside, and maybe save the sex talk until after dinner, all right?” I say, waving the guys inside.

  Stone pulls me into a hug. “You did good, brother. Hold on to her, you hear me?”

  “I plan on it. How’s Trish?”

  “She comes home in a few days. She will be on light duty for a while. But even so, I can’t wait. Life’s hard without her around, even if she is only a ten-minute drive away.”

  Stone and Tricia’s adopted daughter, Adella, enters next, and she gives me a hug. “Congratulations, Razor. I’m thrilled for you. Samantha is nice, so you’d better treat her right, or else I’ll kick your butt.”

  One by one, they all come into the dining room and soon Samantha’s house is full of family, brotherhood, and love. Everyone I could ever want in my life is right here and I feel like the luckiest man in the world to have such a great family. Then Samantha comes out of the kitchen with a huge wooden cutting board covered in the most delicious looking steaks I’ve ever seen. Every single one of my brothers turns in unison the second she sets that board down. Moments later, a plate of roasted potatoes, a big bowl of salad, and another platter of baked garlic bread gets set beside the steaks.

  It’s a huge meal, maybe even more than the whole club can eat.

  I am salivating, and I am not the only one. Every man here is eyeing the steaks.

  “Dig in, everybody,” Samantha says. There’s pride in her voice and damn, has she ever earned it.

  She takes her seat at the table and watches with a smile on her face as all of our guests serve themselves.

  But I don’t head for the food. As good as it looks, there’s something more important right now: her. I go to Samantha’s side. I take my place next to her and hold her hand in mine.

  The MC and Ruby have always been my family, but I’ve never had a moment like this: surrounded by this kind of love, this kind of laughter.

  And it’s all thanks to this incredible woman.

  Holding her hand isn’t enough, though it’s something I plan to do for the rest of my life. I give her a kiss deep enough that more than a couple of my brothers start hooting and hollering.

  “What was that for?” She says, cheeks reddening.

  I look into her eyes. They’re shining with joy.

  “That was for you. Because I love you and I’m never letting you go.”

  Epilogue

  Samantha

  One month later

  “Baker, your friends are back again,” Colleen says to me as I pass by her desk while finishing up my rounds.

  It’s my first day back on the job. A lot of counseling, a lot of late-night conversations with Razor, a fair bit of drinking, and more than a few tears were involved in getting me to this point.

  I’d forgotten how much this job can make my body ache. Feeling grateful for the excuse to take a break — and that my workload is light at this rare moment — I stop.

  “They are?” I say. “And what do you mean ‘again’?”

  “Oh, they’ve been coming in regularly since that one night. Blood drives, mostly. That older guy, Stone, has been a repeat visitor almost every week. Shame he’s married. His butt looks so good in jeans. Just so firm and round. But your biker friends haven’t come in a group this size since the disaster.”

  I look out towards the front lobby of the ER and I see them — half the club, decked in their full gear, cuts and all — making their way towards us. Razor’s there, and he’s wearing the smile that he only wears for me. Without even realizing it, I’m smiling right back at him.

  He waves.

  I wave back. Then I check the clock. I’m not due off for another hour.

  “I don’t know why they’re here. Maybe they’re donating blood again.”

  “More trouble in town?
” Colleen says.

  “No, not that I know of.”

  Razor, Trips, and the rest line up at Colleen’s desk. She raises an eyebrow at him; most men would have their smile swiftly disappear under Colleen’s frosty gaze, but Razor just winks at her.

  “What do you want?” She says.

  “We’re here to donate blood. And I thought I’d stop in and check in on Lone Mesa’s hottest nurse.”

  Colleen rolls her eyes. “Blood donations are upstairs. Second floor. You all know that.”

  “Upstairs, guys. Second floor,” Razor says to the crowd behind him.

  They start to move except, just steps away, Mack hauls Rusty to a stop.

  “Where do you think you’re going, brother?” He says.

  Rusty gives Mack a confused look.

  “To donate blood. Like everyone else. Where does it look like I’m going?”

  Mack turns to Colleen. “Excuse me, mum. Are individuals who practice risky and alternative lifestyles — like my friend Officer Rusty — allowed to donate blood?”

  “Mack, you ass,” Rusty says, punching him in the shoulder. “Ma’am, I’m not involved in any weird shit that he might tell you about.”

  “We’ve got fucking photographic proof, lad. And they’re hot photos, too. It doesn’t look fake, either. It looks real. You really work it for the camera. The way you pose is guaranteed to get anyone all hot and bothered.”

  Colleen stands up and glares at the assembled MC.

  “I don’t care what you get up to in your spare time. Get the hell out of my emergency room.”

  “See you later, babe,” Razor says to me. Then, to the MC, he says, “Come on, brothers, we got work to do.”

  I watch them leave and, when Colleen clears her throat, I get back to my rounds. The last hour flies by and even though I’m exhausted, I’m still bouncing with anticipation as I end my shift.

  I’ve made it through the day. And now I get to see my man.

  As I change into my street clothes in the break room, I take a moment and reflect on how much my family has grown and changed in the last month. I’ve lost my brother, I’ve seen friends and loved ones hurt, but I’ve gained so many special people that my heart sometimes has a hard time grasping just how good things really are. I’m surrounded by so much love that it drowns out all the fear and darkness I’ve been through. There are still times I shed tears for my brother and what I’ve lost, but as it’s set in over the last month just what kind of crazy and supportive people I now have as a family, the pain fades and I find myself crying from joy or laughter more often than not.