Page 21 of Vex’s Chaos

"Vex."

"Check her neck, too."

Razor slowly turns toward him.

"Brother."

"What?"

"You're not helping. Go make yourself useful somewhere else."

I press my lips together.

Oh, this is priceless.

The enormous biker who just shot a man without hesitation looks thoroughly offended at being ordered out of a room.

I'm trying very hard not to laugh, but my shoulders start shaking.

Vex notices.

"Something funny, darlin'?"

"Absolutely not."

Razor folds his arms.

Vex mutters something about ungrateful bastards before heading into the hallway.

The moment the door closes, I let out the laugh I've been holding.

It hurts my lip.

Worth it.

Razor sighs.

"He's usually less talkative."

"Really?"

"Much."

"I like you."

"Most people do."

He finishes checking my knee, examines my neck, and asks about my breathing and the accident.

By the time he's finished, I'm relieved to hear that I seem to have escaped with bruises, a sore knee, and a split lip.

He gives me instructions about resting, ice, and symptoms that would mean getting further medical attention.

Then he opens the door.

"Vex."

My rescuer appears immediately.