The Biker's Fate Chapter 659

Razor

A FEW DAYS later, I was securely ensconced at Hatch and Maisie's home, and Katie had made a surprise visit to check on me. I was not happy to see her.

Let me clarify.

I was happy to see her in the sense that I adored her, but not happy to see her in the sense that she always told me the cold, hard truth.

And she was doling out said truth right now, and I was not in the fucking mood to hear it.

"Look, buddy, if you don't get some serious PT, you're gonna lose use of your hand and arm," Katie warned.

I scowled. "And how the fuck am I gonna do that, Kate, if I can't leave Hatch's home or the compound?"

She sighed. "Haven't figured out that part yet."

"And, maybe we don't talk to Katie like an asshole," Hatch suggested, walking into the room. Of course, his suggestion wasn't a suggestion, and I knew it.

"Sorry, Katie," I said.

She smiled as Hatch made his way to her and kissed her cheek. "Hey, sweetheart."

"Hey, yourself."

Hatch nodded toward me. "I think we can get you to PT and back without raising any red flags."

"Yeah?" Katie asked, hopefully.

"You just gotta dress like a civilian."

"What does that mean?" Katie asked.

"No cut, no colors, nothing to indicate you're in a club," Hatch said.

I frowned. "No fuckin' way. I don't roll up anywhere undressed, Hatch. You know this."

"It's temporary, brother."

I scoffed. "You're my prez, how can you ask me to do this? It goes against our code."

"I'd rather you not be dead than follow any kinda code right now, kid," he said.

I scowled deeper.

Hatch raised an eyebrow. "Have one of the girls or a prospect drive you. Cash has some time, he can drive you too. We switch up cars and routes each time."

"Why can't you do my PT?" I asked Katie.

"Because I'm not a physical therapist." She patted my cheek, a little harder than might be necessary. "Plus, you'll be way nicer to someone else."

"Hey, I apologized."

"Yeah, but the fact you had to apologize in the first place proves my point."

"Fair." I reached for her hand with my good one and gave it a squeeze. "I really am sorry, sweetheart."

"All good, buddy." She smiled. "I am happy to drive you, though. And sit in on the first appointment if that makes you feel better."

"That'd be great." I released her hand. "Thanks."

"You ready to shower?" she asked.

I tried not to let the humiliation sink into my bones. "Yeah."

Hatch and Katie helped me into the bathroom where Hatch helped me undress, then Katie slid on my cast covers, before Hatch was up again to guide me into the shower chair. He covered my dick with a hand towel, then Katie walked back in.

"You want me to do your hair, then you can do the rest?" she asked.

I nodded.

She cupped my chin. "I'm a medical professional, buddy. Remember that. None of this should bother you."

"Well, the fact you're washing my privates is kinda humiliating."

"Pretty sure you can handle your privates, big man." She smiled gently. "Well, other than one armpit."

I let out a quiet grunt.

"Would you rather have Hatch do it?" she challenged.

"Hell, no."

She chuckled, grabbing the handheld shower sprayer, and washing my hair. Once that was done, she gave me some privacy so I could finish up, staying within shouting distance.

It took me far too long and a shit ton out of me to finish, but I did it and I did it alone.

"I'm done, Katie," I called, and she reached in and turned off the water. She then handed me a towel from around the curtain and waited for me to dry off. Well, as much as I could sittin' on a wet shower chair.

"You ready for me to get Hatch?" she asked.

"Yeah," I breathed out.

After the 'committee' finished assisting me with my shower, I was wiped out, so I was settled (forcibly) into a recliner in the family room by Hatch.

"I've cleaned out your portable urinal and tidied up your bedroom a bit, so I'm going to head out," Katie said. "Call or text if you need anything, okay?"

"Thanks sweetheart," I said, giving her a tired smile.

She grabbed her coat and walked out the door and I closed my eyes. The drugs I'd taken earlier started to kick in, especially after the exertion of the shower. They did not, however, block out the screech of my sister's voice as she entered the house soon after I'd fallen asleep.

I startled awake and sighed. "Angelica," I hissed.

She came rushing into the room, followed by my mother and sister, Francesca. She was closest to me in age and working in fashion.

In New York.

"Frankie?" I frowned. "You're supposed to be in New York."

"Well, when my baby brother nearly gets murdered, I get my ass on a plane and come home," she sassed, leaning down to kiss my cheek.

"Language, Francesca," Mom admonished.

"Sorry, Mamma," she said, then mouthing to me, "Asshole."

"You weren't supposed to be told about this at all," I complained.