Chapter 39

I pushed open the heavy doors of The Vultures’ NYC chapter, the familiar rumble of Harleys and the scent of oil and leather welcomed me like an old friend. The guys were here, lounging around, their eyes lit up as they spotted me. I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pride as they clapped me on the back, their words of respect mingled with the classic rock blaring from the speakers.

“Yo, Doc! Heard you went all Rambo on the Iron Serpents,” one of the younger members shouted over the music, a grin spread across his face.

I just gave him a nod, my gaze scanned the room until it landed on Razor. He’s propped up on a barstool, his right arm encased in a cast, a beer in his left hand. The anger that rolled off him was palpable, and I could see the tension in every line of his body. I approached him, the noise of the room faded into the background.

“Razor,” I greeted, my voice steady. “How’re you holding up?”

He looked up at me, his eyes hard. “Better,” he grunted, but I could read him like an open book. The way he slammed the beer bottle down onto the table, the muscles in his jaw clenching – he’s a storm waiting to happen.

“You shouldn’t be drinking with the pain meds,” I reminded him, keeping my tone light but firm.

He scoffed, a ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Since when did you become such a mother hen, Doc?”

I shrugged, leaning against the bar. “Just looking out for you, man. You’re no use to anyone if you can’t keep your head straight.”

Razor took a deep breath, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. “Thanks, Doc,” he said, his voice sincere. “For getting me out of there.”

This was the first time we’ve really talked, I realize. Our paths have crossed in stories and rumors, but never in person. “You don’t have to thank me, Razor. We’re Vultures. We look out for our own.”

He nodded, taking a swig of his beer before he set it aside. “They didn’t break me, you know. I didn’t spill anything.”

I believed him. Razor might be hot-headed and impulsive, but he was tough as nails. “I never doubted you,” I said, and I meant it.

We fell into a comfortable silence, the noise of the clubhouse surrounding us like a cocoon. I could feel the weight of my father’s patch in my jacket, a constant reminder of the legacy I carried. It was a heavy burden, but one I wore with pride.

“You know,” Razor started, his voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, “there’s talk about you taking a more permanent role here. Hawk’s not getting any younger, and with you pulling off a rescue like that…”

I shook my head, cutting him off. “I’m a nomad, Razor. Always have been, always will be.”

He raised an eyebrow at me, a challenge in his gaze. “You sure about that, Doc? Seems to me like you’ve got a knack for leadership.”

I chuckled, pushing off from the bar. “I’ve got enough on my plate without adding a chapter or whole club to it,” I tell him, thinking about Darcy and the others.

Razor watched me, his expression thoughtful. “You’re different, Doc. You’ve always been different. It’s not just about the club for you, is it?”

I met his gaze, holding it steady. “The club’s my family and always will be.”

I clasped Razor’s good shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze. “We’re all different, Razor. That’s what makes us strong.” I glanced around the clubhouse, taking in the familiar faces, the camaraderie, the raw energy that pulsed through the room like a living thing. “But we all bleed the same.”

I left Razor to his thoughts, making my way to Torch. He was deep in conversation with some of the senior members, but he broke away as I approached, extending a hand in greeting. “Doc,” he said, his voice carrying a note of respect. “Good to see you in one piece.”

I nodded, accepting his handshake. “Wouldn’t be anywhere else, Torch,” I replied. “I wanted to thank you for your hospitality.”

I gave Torch a casual shrug, feeling the phantom ache in my shoulder where a bullet had grazed me during the rescue. “It’s healing,” I told him, the ghost of a smirk playing on my lips. “My omega’s been taking good care of me.”

Torch barked out a laugh, clapping me on the back. “Well, I’ll be damned! Doc, you sly dog, finding yourself an omega. And not just any omega, but one that can handle you.”

His laughter died down as he took in my serious expression. “Wait, you’re serious?” he asked, his eyes widening in surprise. “You really found an omega?”

I felt a flush creep up my neck, a rare occurrence for me. “Yeah, I’m serious,” I admitted, rubbing the back of my neck in a gesture of discomfort. “We’re scent matched. She went into heat just after I got Razor out, so I had to stick around, make sure she was okay.”

Torch’s eyebrows shot up, and he let out a low whistle. “Damn, Doc. That’s some serious shit right there. You’ve been through the wringer, haven’t you?”

I chuckled, feeling a sense of pride mingling with the lingering exhaustion. “You could say that.”

He leaned in closer, curiosity lighting up his eyes. “So, what’s the plan now? You taking her on the road with you?”

I hesitated, the weight of the situation pressing down on me. “It’s complicated,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “She’s got other mates. Might not be an option for me to just take off with her.”

Torch’s eyes widened in surprise. “Other mates? Shit, Doc, you’ve really landed yourself in the middle of a pack.”

I nodded, feeling the tension coil in my gut. “Seems that way. I’m still trying to wrap my head around it.”

Torch studied me for a moment, his expression turning thoughtful. “You know, there’s always a place for you here, Doc. If you decide you want to settle down, put down some roots, you’ve got brothers here who’ve got your back.”

I looked around the clubhouse, taking in the familiar faces, the sense of brotherhood that was as much a part of me as The Vultures’ patch on my jacket. “I appreciate that, Torch,” I said, my voice sincere. “I really do.”

Torch nodded, understanding in his eyes. “Family’s important, Doc. Hell, it’s everything in this life. You do what you gotta do to protect yours.”

I clapped him on the shoulder, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. “Thanks, Torch. That means a lot.”

I made my way outside, needing a moment of quiet to collect my thoughts. The cool night air was a welcome relief from the stifling atmosphere of the clubhouse. I took a deep breath, the scent of the city mingling with the lingering trace of Darcy’s coconut and vanilla scent on my clothes.