Page 9 of Claimed By the Rebel

“Are you okay?!” Razor exclaims, looping his fingers around my right wrist and pulling down so he can look at my hand. I forgot about the initial cut there and must have wiped blood on my face while cleaning away my tears.

“Oh, this is nothing,” I tell him as an automatic response.

“You’re bleeding,” he says flatly. “That’s not nothing.”

I'm about to tell him I've had worse cuts, but Razor turns on his heel and leads me by the arm toward a car I didn't notice parked across the street from the compound. "Let's get you bandaged up and then we can discuss the next steps. Can't concentrate when you're hurt," he adds as he opens the door for me and clicks my seatbelt in place.

His tone is gruff but his words are impossibly sweet. He wants to take care of me. He's so invested in my health and comfort, that he can't even have a discussion knowing I'm in pain.

As Razor leans back and is about to stand and walk around to the other side of the car, I surprise him and myself by kissing his cheek. Razor freezes, then the tips of his ears turn bright red. Is he blushing? Oh, lordy, I’m in trouble. How is this man adorable on top of his crazy sex appeal and perma-scowl?

I’m not sure how he’s going to react, but the next second, Razor presses his lips to my forehead. I’m sweaty and gross and smell like stale beer, but he doesn’t care.

We stay like that for a few moments, and then Razor closes my door and runs around to the driver's side before hopping in. I watch the broken-down buildings and faded red farmhouse grow smaller and smaller in the side mirror until the entire compound disappears completely.

I don’t know what this next chapter in life will bring, but I hope and pray I’ll never be back to the Serpents’ clubhouse.

7

RAZOR

Igrip the steering wheel with sweaty palms, looking over at the precious woman sitting next to me. Aurora has been silent the entire ride to my place, her forehead pressed against the cool window, and I don’t blame her. She just changed the course of her life. She broke free. And I’m so damn proud of her.

I knew something was wrong when I saw my girl burst through the backdoor of the farmhouse, her blonde hair whipping around her face as she ran. I was out on a stakeout, though I’ve finally admitted to myself that it wasn’t for the club. It was for Aurora. I’ll never apologize for being there when she needed me most.

Aurora had a frantic, almost manic energy about her, and I hopped out of my car as fast as I could to get to her. My heart wedged itself in my throat when I saw her almost roll her ankle after jumping over a scrap pile of logs. Thank all the gods in the universe that I got to her before she fell onto the unforgiving gravel and concrete.

“Razor?” my girl asks, her voice shaky and tentative.

“I’m right here,” I reassure her.

She nods then readjusts so she’s leaning over the center console, resting her cheek against my bicep. My heart kicks into high gear at her touch, and I curse this stupid car for not being a motorcycle. If I had my bike, Aurora would be wrapped around me, holding me tight while I weave through the streets and bring us safely home.

We pull into my driveway, but instead of opening the garage door, I leave the car parked outside. I don’t know how Aurora would react to seeing a motorcycle in my garage. She’s already dealt with so much tonight. It will have to be a conversation for another time.

At least, that’s what I’m telling myself to justify not talking about it yet. If Aurora doesn’t want to be involved with someone in an MC, that would break my goddamn heart that I just started using for the first time in decades. I’m not lying to her, I’m just… protecting her from upsetting information.

Sounds an awful lot like lying, my unhelpful inner monologue adds.

After helping Aurora out of the car, I wrap an arm around her waist and lead her into my home. She’s leaning against me, giving me most of her weight while I direct her down the hall and to the left, where my bathroom is.

We stop in front of the mirror, Aurora’s hazel eyes widening when she sees her appearance. With tangled hair, scrapes on her cheeks and chin, and the wild, terrified look on her face, I’m sure she’s a little taken aback.

“You’re always beautiful to me,” I tell her, kissing the top of her head despite the twigs stuck there and the smell of beer.

Aurora shakes her head no, then buries her face in her hands as if she can’t stand the image of herself. Another devastating blow to my already heavy heart. My girl has been through hell and back and I know it will take time to undo all the lies she’s been told over the years. I just hope she lets me be the one to build her back up.

“It’s true,” I whisper, gently turning her around so we’re facing each other. I remove her hands from where they’re covering her eyes, kissing her knuckles before holding her hands in mine. “I’ll remind you every single day.” I don’t know where these words are coming from, but Aurora seems to relax more and more with each one. “Why don’t you rinse off in the shower and then I can bandage you up and see what the damage is?”

Again, my girl nods, as if that’s all she’s capable of at the moment. I take her left hand in mine, examining the original cut I saw there. It’s not as deep as I first thought, but I decide to give it a quick cleaning and wrap it in gauze as a placeholder while Aurora takes a shower.

She stands there, her eyes unfocused as she circles her arms around her stomach as if protecting herself from the world. It kills me to see her this way, but I know a shower will make her feel better. Well, maybe not better, but at least more human.

“You’re safe here,” I tell my girl softly. She doesn’t even acknowledge my voice, her mind a million miles away. I can see it all in those magical, multi-colored eyes. “I’m going to turn the shower on, okay?” This time, she nods her head.

Reaching behind her, I turn the water on hot, testing the temperature before standing in front of Aurora again. She’s trembling and I’m almost afraid to touch her.

“The shower is ready, baby,” I murmur, grazing my knuckles down her arm in the lightest of touches. She flinches, making me want to punch myself in the face.

---