The Biker's Fate Chapter 698

Razor

TWO MONTHS LATER, my cast was finally off, my physical therapy was down to every other week, and Waverly and I were more in love than ever. In fact, it was her night to cook, so I headed to her place, knocking on her door, frowning when I got no response. She said she'd be home early, so I tried again. Still no response.

Glancing around the hallway, I saw nothing that raised any suspicion, but before I used the key she'd given me and let myself in, I leaned toward her doorbell camera. "I'm comin' in." I unlocked her door and walked inside. "Fizzy?" I called out. No response.

Locking the door behind me, I dropped my duffel on the floor, set the case of beer I'd brought on her island, and shrugged off my cut, laying it over the chair in her living room, then headed down the hall.

That's when I heard the faint sound of crying.

"Waverly?"

More crying. It was coming from the bathroom, so I opened the door slowly, and that's when I saw her.

She was in the tub, her knees pulled up to her chest, arms wrapped around her legs, and she was sobbing. I don't think she'd even heard me walk in.

"Baby?"

She continued to cry, so I kicked off my boots, and moved further into the bathroom.

"Hey," I said, sitting on the edge of the tub, and she turned her tear-soaked face up to me. "What's goin' on?"

"I got a call from the DA in Colorado. Damon's in the wind."

"What do you mean, 'he's in the wind'?"

"He escaped custody."

"Shit," I hissed, standing before stepping into the water.

"What are you doing?" she squeaked.

"Slide forward, baby."

"Gio, you're fully dressed."

"I'm aware," I said, as I sat behind her and pulled her up against my chest.

"You hate wet socks." She craned her head. "And jeans."

"My baby's in a crisis, so I'm gonna deal," I retorted, kissing her temple. "Tell me what this asshat of a DA said."

"He just said he went in for a follow up after his appendectomy and there was a mix-up or something, and Damon escaped," Waverly bit out on a sob. "They had him, Razor. They let him go."

Mix up, my ass.

Of course, I kept that thought to myself.

"You ready to let me handle this now?"

"The way Snarl handled it?" she rasped.

We had come to learn Snarl had been the one to emasculate Boneyard and leave him to rot. No one but Sundance, Lennon, Hatch, Snarl's brother, Rocky, and now me and Waverly knew that to be the case, but Waverly had taken the news surprisingly well.

"No, baby, the way I'm gonna handle it."

She craned her head again. "What does that mean?"

"What'd we talk about you askin' questions you don't actually want answers to?"

She let out a quiet sniff. "I just put your body back together. I don't want you broken again."

"Is that all you're worried about?"

"That and you doing something that gets you sent to prison."

I kissed her shoulder. "Well, neither of those are things you need to worry about, so you gonna let me handle it now?"

She sat up on her knees and faced me. "Promise?"

"Promise."

Biting her lip, she met my eyes, then sighed. "Handle it, Gio."

I shook my head. "Gio ain't handlin' shit, baby. This is all Razor."

She nodded. "Handle it, Razor."

"You got it."

She leaned in and kissed me. "Now, how about you strip out of those wet clothes so I can dry them. I've got chili in the crock pot. You want cornbread?"

I frowned. "What kind of question is that?"

She put her fingers and thumb together and waved her hand in the air like a bona-fide Italian. "The kind of question I'm asking my full-blooded Italian man who doesn't typically eat down home, southern cookin'."

"We need to change that narrative, baby," I said.

"Oh, yeah?"

I nodded. "If you're cookin' it, it could be shit pie, and I'll eat it."

She grinned. "That's high praise coming from someone with a mother like yours."

"I'm aware," I said.

And she was right about that. My mom cooked like her life depended on it, and if I still lived at home, I'd probably weigh a metric ton.

Kissing me quickly, Waverly stood, reaching for a towel and stepping out of the tub. I followed, only, I stripped out of my wet clothing while she dressed.

"Throw everything in the washer, honey," Waverly called out from the kitchen. "There's a robe in my closet you can borrow. Unless you want to walk around buck naked."

I chuckled as I pulled open the accordion doors that housed her washer and dryer. "You got shit you want washed?"

She suddenly appeared at the mouth of the hallway holding a rubber spatula. "Are you offering to do my laundry?"

"Yeah." I frowned. "Is that a problem?"

"If I didn't have to get these muffins in the oven, I'd kneel before you and suck you off right here and now."

I chuckled. "In a few minutes, I'll be walkin' around buck naked, so you'll have easy access."

"My darks are in the hamper in my closet next to that robe I mentioned."

With a sassy swish of her hips, she walked back to the kitchen, and I dropped in a load of laundry before joining her.

"Smells amazing," I said, wrapping my arms around her waist and kissing her neck. "Can I help?"

"You can open that bottle of wine," she said, turning to face me, raising her head for a kiss.

I grinned, covering her mouth with mine, sliding my hands to her ass and squeezing.

"We should really talk about you leaving some things here," she said. "I'll clean out a drawer."