The feel of her arms around his waist felt...right. Her grip let him know she trusted him to keep them both steady. Her hands rested lightly against his stomach, and the warmth of her touch seeped through his shirt, a surprising comfort he’d come to crave. The press of her thighs against his own, snug and secure as the bike moved with the rhythm of the road, grounded him in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time.
In the side mirror, he caught glimpses of her head swiveling from side to side. Her curiosity was almost childlike as she took in the scenery, the open road stretching out before them like an invitation to freedom. The wind tugged at her, but she didn’t seem to mind. If anything, she looked captivated and entranced by the endless horizon, the sense of movement, the raw energy of the ride.
Razor couldn’t help but let the corner of his mouth twitch into the faintest smile. His instincts had been right. This was exactlywhat Lottie needed. The tension he’d seen in her shoulders back at the clubhouse had started to melt away. He could feel it in the way she leaned into him, not out of fear but out of trust.
The road blurred beneath the tires, the vibration of the engine a steady, familiar hum. Out here, there was no noise from the outside world, no distractions. Just the wind, the roar of the bikes, and the bond of the ride.
For a fleeting moment, Razor let himself hope. Maybe this was what he needed too. Curve after curved the rhythm between he and Lottie became stronger, smoother.
It happened so fast no one had time to react as a car came flying around the line of bikes and weaved into their lane right on top of Razor and Lottie.
The bike wobbled violently, lurching to one side as Razor fought to steady it. The handlebars jerked in his hands, the tires skidding on loose gravel. Instinct kicked in, and his arm shot out toward Lottie. “Hold on!” he shouted, his voice drowned out by the roar of the engine.
The next moment unraveled in slow motion. The bike tipped further, the ground rushing up to meet them. Razor tightened his grip on Lottie, but the momentum was too strong. They were flung into the air, weightless for a breathless second before the world came crashing down.
Razor hit the pavement first. The impact knocked the wind out of him, a shockwave of pain radiating through his body as he skidded across the blacktop. Gravel tore at his exposed skin, embedding itself like shards of glass. The roar of the engine and the screech of metal scraping asphalt filled his ears, followed by the sickening thud of bodies hitting the ground.
Lottie was ripped from his grasp as they tumbled. He reached for her, but the force of the crash sent her sliding out of reach. His heart clenched as he watched her roll to a stop, her body crumpled on the road. “Lottie!” he roared, his voice raw with panic.
Every movement was agony as Razor pushed himself up. His ribs screamed in protest, his vision swimming, but none of it mattered. He staggered to his feet, his legs trembling beneath him. The bike lay a few feet away, its twisted frame hissing and groaning as it settled. He shoved it aside, barely registering the pain that shot through his leg.
Across the road, Lottie stirred. Relief flooded him, then he saw her hands reaching for her helmet. “Don’t…” he started to shout but it was too late, Lottie had pulled her helmet off, but it was short-lived. She moved sluggishly, her hands shaking as she touched her forehead. Blood smeared her fingers, and her face twisted in confusion and pain. Razor’s stomach dropped.
“Lottie!” he called, limping toward her. His foot caught on debris, nearly sending him sprawling, but he didn’t stop. Every step felt like an eternity as he closed the distance between them.
When he dropped to his knees in front of her, his heart broke. Her jacket was torn, blood seeping through the fabric and staining the pale material. Her eyes were wide, unfocused, her chest rising and falling in uneven gasps. “How bad are you hurt?” he asked, his voice tight with urgency.
She blinked at him, her brow furrowing as though she couldn’t quite process his words. “Facial hematoma… fracture… maybe broken clavicle,” she murmured, her voice distant. She held up her hand, her fingers bent at unnatural angles. “Two jammed fingers.”
Razor’s jaw clenched as he scanned her injuries, his hands hovering over her trembling frame. He wanted to fix it, to take away her pain, but all he could do was force himself to stay calm. “Okay,” he said, his voice softening. “Now tell me how youfeel.”
Her lips quivered, her gaze darting around the chaotic scene. “Confused. Shaken. What happened?” she asked, her voice breaking.
Razor exhaled, his chest tightening as guilt and anger warred within him. “The bike… it went down. I don’t know why, but we’re gonna figure it out. Right now, we need to take care of you.”
Lottie’s eyes flicked to his hands. “You tried to save me,” she whispered. “You could’ve… ”
“I’m fine,” Razor cut her off, his voice firm but kind. “You’re my priority.”
His stomach churned as he noticed blood pooling around the collar of her jacket. Gently, he unzipped it, peeling it back to reveal a jagged gash near her neck. The wound was deep, dangerously close to her carotid artery. His breath caught.Too close. Too damn close.
“Truck! Call an ambulance!” he bellowed, his voice carrying over the sound of groaning metal and distant shouts. He turned back to Lottie, his expression softening. “I need you to stay with me, sweetheart. Look at me.”
It was probably pure adrenaline that was keeping her upright. “Someone get my bag from my bike. He saw Hemlock dropping down next to him already pulling ut gauze and medical supplies.
Lottie’s gaze was unfocused, her breath hitching as her eyes fell on his bloodstained hands. “That’s… not paint,” she murmured, her voice trembling.
“No, it’s not,” Razor admitted, his throat tightening. He pressed gauze from his medical bag against the wound, his hands steady despite the chaos in his mind. “But you’re gonna be okay. I’ve got you.”
Each second felt like a lifetime as he worked to stem the bleeding. When her eyes fluttered shut, panic surged through him. “Lottie, stay awake!” he demanded, his voice breaking. “Don’t do this to me.”
Her lashes flickered, and she murmured his name, grounding him. Relief washed over him, but the fear lingered, sharp and unrelenting.
The wail of sirens pierced the air, and moments later, EMTs swarmed the scene. Razor fought the urge to push them aside, his protective instincts screaming at him to stay by her side. Truck’s firm grip on his shoulder held him back. “You’re too close, brother. Let them work.”
Razor’s fists clenched, his jaw tight as he watched them stabilize her and load her onto the gurney. Her pale face was a haunting image he couldn’t shake. “Take care of my bike,” he said to Truck as he climbed into the ambulance. “I’m riding with her.”
The ride to the hospital was rough, every bump jarring. Razor sat close, his hand lightly resting on hers. “I’m here,” he whispered. “I’m not going anywhere.”
