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.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
After weeks of staying with Razor, Lottie had finally returned to her apartment. Not that she didn’t love staying at his place with the amazing view of the Saint Lawerence River, Lottie didn’t want to crowd him.
Lottie stood in the middle of her apartment, the familiar scent of lavender and cedar greeting her like an old friend. The space felt smaller somehow, quieter than she remembered. After weeks of living in Razor’s place her apartment felt almost stifling. Still, it was hers, and she’d missed it.
She set her bag down on the couch and looked around. Everything was just as she’d left it: neatly arranged bookshelves, a throw blanket draped over the arm of her favorite chair, a half-empty mug of tea still sitting on the windowsill. It felt strange to be back, like stepping into a memory. She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.
The time with Razor had been incredible, despite the circumstances. His home had become a safe haven in the wake of the accident, a place where she didn’t have to think about the crash or the red car or Shannon’s threats. Razor had made sureof that. He’d been there every step of the way—cooking meals, helping her dress when her clavicle made even the simplest movements excruciating, and sitting with her through sleepless nights when the nightmares came.
But as much as she loved being with him, Lottie couldn’t shake the feeling that she was intruding. They’d only just found their footing as a couple before the accident threw their lives into chaos. Living under the same roof so soon, especially under such dire circumstances, felt like a test neither of them had been prepared for. Razor never once complained. He was endlessly patient, endlessly kind—but Lottie worried it might have been too much, too soon.
As she wandered into the kitchen, the silence pressed down on her. She missed the sound of Razor moving around his place. The way he hummed under his breath when he thought no one was listening, the soft scrape of his boots on the floor as he paced while taking a call, the quiet “Hey, sweetheart” whenever he caught her watching him. The quiet here wasn’t the same; it wasn’t the kind of quiet she wanted anymore.
Her phone buzzed on the counter, pulling her from her thoughts. She smiled when she saw Razor’s name light up the screen.
Razor: You get in okay?
Lottie: Yeah, just got here. Feels weird to be back, though.
The reply came almost instantly.
Razor: Want me to come over?
Her heart warmed at the offer, but she hesitated. Razor had done so much for her already. She didn’t want to cling to him or make him feel like she couldn’t stand on her own.
