Thunder Road: Walk The Edge Part 30

Dad contemplates the question. "Maybe I agreed with her. Maybe I decided I wanted you to grow up in peace. Maybe I couldn't stomach watching you fall into a pit of vipers. Maybe I'm the complete b.a.s.t.a.r.d you think me to be."

Everything that's been said whirls in my brain and the insanity I've fought for so long pulses as it longs to be released. "Did whoever send Mom over that bridge-did he pay for his sins?"

The atmosphere practically crackles with p.i.s.sed-off energy. I'm staring Dad down. He's doing the same to me. I overp.r.o.nounce my words so there's no mistaking my thoughts on his efforts to prevent a generational war. "Was there justice for my mother's death?"

Dad angles forward on the table and his low voice rumbles along the wood to me. "Know that trust I was talking about?"

I nod.

"You will show it to me and to this club before you ever get that answer. Now the question is on you, son. Can you trust your brothers to have taken care of this, or are you going to do what you've done time and time again and take matters into your own hands, even if it means blowing this club to h.e.l.l in the process?"

Breanna THROUGH THE PROPPED-OPEN back door to the Barrel of Fun, the cool autumn breeze rushes through the trees and a waterfall of vibrant leaves falls to the ground. My eyes and lungs burn from the harsh cleaning products infecting the air. The ice cream shop officially closed last night and today I'm making extra cash by preparing it for the winter.

My boss hacks as the bleach in the bucket sloshes over the sides. I prop my mop on the wall and jack my thumb toward the back door. He nods. We both quit talking an hour ago. Either to prevent ourselves from inhaling more poison than we should or because we both lost the ability to speak.

I seriously need to find a new job.

I step outside and the intake of clean oxygen is like a pillow for my lungs. The stray pieces of hair that had escaped the bun stick to my sweaty face and I peel my sweatshirt off my skin in an attempt to cool down. As much as today's manual labor has been constant, it hasn't been enough to ease my concern for Razor. I'm not sure anything will ever erase the memory of how he looked so absolutely broken.

My boss coughs again and I head for the thick trees. In the distance, a car honks and a semitruck rumbles past on the road out front. My cell never vibrated in my pocket, but I pull it out anyway, hoping for a message from Razor. But like last night, there's nothing.

Me: I've been thinking of you. I'm here if you need to talk or not talk. Either way, I Razor and I have never said certain words aloud. We've definitely expressed our emotions physically and in the calm silences in between those precious kisses and touches. We've also referenced how we feel about each other, but we've never fully admitted it.

I bite my bottom lip. In my daydreams as a child, I imagined a guy saying it first, but I care so much about Razor that he needs this-especially since his world has been torn apart.

Me: Either way, I love you.

The edges of my mouth lift when I see the words on the screen. I do love him and it's not as scary to confess as I thought. In fact, it feels natural.

Razor: I cut out on my bike last night to clear my head. I'm in Tennessee, but I'm heading back now. Straight to you. I want to hear those words out of your mouth.

The smile on my face grows. He's coming home to me.

Another vibration. Razor: I love you too.

b.u.t.terflies. A million gorgeous b.u.t.terflies. My fingers are flying across the screen and not keeping up with the gazillion thoughts in my head and then my phone is gone.

Gone.

Ripped from my fingers, and when my head snaps up, a hand goes to my throat and my back slams into a tree. The air rushes from my body as two soulless eyes bore into mine. It's Kyle and he's gone insane.

Panic floods my system. No air in, no sound out, nothing. Dizzying thoughts overwhelm me as the pressure on my throat nears painful. He's killing me. Kyle is killing me.

My fingers scramble for my neck, claw at the stranglehold. My feet kick and, with a flick of his arm, pain shoots into my spine as he rams me against the tree again. A flash of black as consciousness is on the verge of being lost and I fight to keep my eyes open.

"Did you and Razor honestly think you could play me?"

White dots mar my vision and my lungs hurt. I crane my neck, desperate for air, and only a pathetic squeak erupts from my mouth as he pushes on my body again.

Kyle leans forward and his breath is hot on my ear. I flinch at the way his mouth moves against my skin. "We found how your boy was hacking us, and for that you are going to pay."

The pressure on my neck releases, a gasp of air from my body, and I drop to the ground. Coughing, choking, my hands landing where he was crushing my bones.

Kyle paces in front of me. A short loop and his eyes are on me. "The day you asked to work with me instead of against me. You used me. You helped him get into my phone."

Tears well up in my eyes and I throw my head back to yell, but no sound escapes.

"He has four of us, but not all of us, and you tell that a.s.shole that the one he can't find, he won't. He's the one that figured out we were hacked. He's the one that noticed we were connecting to a dummy server. I don't know what the h.e.l.l Razor was planning on doing, but I'm back in control of this game. I want my d.a.m.ned papers, Breanna. I want the first one on Friday and I expect perfection."

He crouches in front of me. "And in case you're wondering how far I'm willing to take this, I left a present for your parents at your home. Manila envelope. Your mom's and dad's names on the front. I dropped it off, rang the doorbell, then watched from across the street as your mom answered and picked it up. In case you're wondering, inside was the photo. f.u.c.king push me again and that photo will be up on Bragger before you can say my name."

Kyle stands, throws my phone at my feet, then a piece of paper drifts from his hands. It's the picture of me and Razor and it's spelling my demise.

I've been banished to my room, but I'm not sure what the consequences will be if I leave. They've already told me I'm forbidden to set foot outside the house, forbidden to talk to anyone on the phone, forbidden to do anything more than breathe.

When I walked in from work, my parents confiscated my cell. My father then grew angry red when what they thought was my pa.s.sword didn't work and I refused to give them the real one. Razor's codes are on my phone. So is the picture of me and him together at Shamrock's and the ones of me drinking. They've seen the picture of me and Razor, but somehow for them to find it on me would be worse.

Funny how I was terrified of them seeing that photo and being disappointed in me. Now I'm scared they'll see that photo and judge Razor. I'm holding out hope my parents will calm down and grant him a chance.

It's one in the morning and my parents are fighting. So loud I can decipher most of what they say from my bedroom. Mom's blaming Dad for being busy at work, Dad's blaming Mom for ignoring me when I went to her for advice and Elsie's crying in her room.

Neither of them seem to hear her or care.

Part of me had been praying Razor would show under the streetlamp on his motorcycle, beckoning me to climb down so we could run away. It hasn't happened and it won't.

My door creaks when I open it, and across the hallway, Clara, Joshua and Liam are gathered on Joshua's bed. They stop their intense whispers and study me as if I'm a stranger. In the end, I guess I am. It's never been a secret that I'm the outsider.

"Mom told you to stay in your room." Clara's home on break and I wish she would get a life like my two oldest siblings and never return. "Did you hear what I said?"

Clara reminds me of a dog nipping at another's heels to force them back in line. She's always been snapping at me and I've always turned tail and fled, but I'm not her submissive puppy anymore.

"Elsie's crying," I say.

Her sobs grow louder and so does Mom's voice. "...do you expect of me? I can't handle all of this on my own! My job is important, too..."

"Do you think acting perfect is going to make them like you again?" Clara smirks as if her words were sharp enough to draw blood.

"You won, Clara. They hate me. Everyone in this family hates me. If you don't mind, I'm going to let you continue your gloating party while I take care of Elsie."

She rolls her eyes and she calls out, "You're getting what you deserve."

"You never know when to stop, do you?" Joshua reprimands, and I'm not sure if he was talking to me or Clara and I don't care.

Elsie's My Little Pony bedsheets are twisted around her legs, and her nightshirt, which is actually Liam's old T-shirt, dangles off her shoulder. The night-light plugged in on the wall near her bed casts a faint glow over my youngest sibling. Her face is red, her eyes swollen. Tear tracks mark her face.

She lifts her arms in the air, and when I'm within jumping distance, she launches herself at me and buries her head in the crook of my neck. Hot wet drops land on my skin and I close my eyes as I hug the little girl I wanted desperately to evade months ago.

I sit on her bed and she keeps herself curled around me, but the sounds of despair have ceased. Across the room, Zac watches me from the bottom bunk, Paul from the top. Both of them peek out from under their covers like owls terrified to wander from the safety of their nest.

"Is it true?" Paul asks. "Are you dating someone from the Reign of Terror?"

Elsie throws her fears into the mix. "Are Mommy and Daddy going to be mad at you forever?"

"Are they going to make you leave?" asks Zac.

Elsie's dark eyes fill up again and her lower lip trembles. "I don't want you to go."

More questions pour from them about Razor and my parents and leaving and then the light flicks on. Liam and Joshua stride in and Clara hangs back to c.o.c.k a hip against the door frame. From downstairs, Dad yells something about how Mom never has enough time for him and Mom shouts back asking why she should spend time with someone who doesn't acknowledge her existence or worth.

I smooth back Elsie's hair from her hot, sweaty face and consider laying my palms over her ears until the argument is over. Joshua picks up a pillow and swats Zac with it until he allows him room to sit and Liam rests his back against the frame of the bunks.

"You should be at work," I say to Liam.

He hooks his thumbs into his jeans. "Getting a text telling me that there's a picture of my little sister making out with a guy from the Terror at a bar changed my plans."

"We didn't do anything that night." The making-out portion had come much later. "And Thomas is more than a member of the Reign of Terror." Using Razor's real name feels like a better strategy than his road name.

Joshua's eyes narrow into slits. "They're killers."

"You don't know that. You don't know anything about them other than what people say."

"Is it true?" Liam barks, and I rub my hand along Elsie's back when she shudders. "Did you tell Mom and Dad you're in love with this b.a.s.t.a.r.d?"

Anger tightens my muscles. "His name is Thomas, and yes, I am in love with him. He's in love with me, and if you'd give him a shot, you'd find out what a great guy he is."

Liam throws out his arms. "He carries a gun!"

"So what if he does? He's a million times better than half of the people at school!"

He bangs the back of his head against the bunks so hard that the frame shakes. "Jesus, Bre, you're too smart to be brainwashed. You're too smart for any of this, but evidently you're having a brain lapse and it's time for you to get your head out of your a.s.s!"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You gotta break up with him." Joshua squishes Zac's pillow in his hands. "One-he's dangerous. Two-the people he's around are lethal."

"I'm not going to break up with him." I press my lips to Elsie's forehead when she sniffs like she's going to start crying again. "I'll introduce him to Mom and Dad. They'll see how great he is and how smart he is and-"

"Mom and Dad are sending you away." Liam cuts me off and the breath is knocked out of my body.

"What?"

"The private school. The one you were accepted to. I'm here because they called me over to see if I would move home so I can pick up the slack that will be left when you leave."

It's what I wanted. Months ago. My mouth gapes, and like when Kyle had tried to squeeze the life out of me earlier, no sound leaks out. If Liam had told me this in August, I possibly would have leaped into his arms and cried like a newborn, but now I'm encased in cold numbness.

The bunk squeaks when Paul hops out of the top and scurries to Elsie's bed. He tucks a pillow to his chest and doesn't look at anyone. A few seconds later, Zac bolts over the invisible line that has always separated me from everyone else.

Zac encircles his arms around my waist as Elsie tightens her hold on my neck. I'm leaving them. I glance around the room. Joshua has his head down and Liam's staring at the ceiling as if we told him of an impending death.

"What did you tell them?" I whisper.

"I told them I'd do it. I'll do anything to keep you safe."

My mouth feels like a desert and it's difficult to breathe. "What if I don't want to go?"

Liam meets my eyes. "It doesn't matter what you want. The decision's already been made. You're leaving this week."

RAZOR.

We need to talk about Kyle as soon as you get back. That was the last text Breanna sent before I hauled a.s.s to Snowflake.

Sitting on my motorcycle in the student parking lot, I can hear the time bomb ticking in my brain. There was no other contact from her. No other text, no voice mail. Kyle did something to shake Breanna and each second of silence from her is causing my mood to become deadly.

A growl of motorcycles and two bikes from a pack of Reign of Terror driving past the school break off and turn in to the parking lot. Only one wears a three-piece patch and, from his bike, I can tell it's Oz. Chevy rides beside him. They fly into the empty spot beside me and I do little more than glance at them as they dismount. Where the h.e.l.l is Breanna?

"Where have you been?" says Chevy. "No one's heard s.h.i.t from you since Friday."

No, they haven't, but I can't deal with the club. Breanna's best friend, Addison, slips out of the pa.s.senger side of a car and her gaze hits mine. The wires that are crossed inside me cause the ticking to speed up. Everything is wrong.

"Razor!" Oz steps in front of me. "What's going on?"

I push past Oz and he easily gives as I stalk toward Addison. She waits for me and the lone sign that she's nervous is how she adjusts the backpack she carries on one shoulder.

"Addison!" her other friend chides as she looks at me as if I'm the devil bent on stealing their souls. "Let's go."

"Go on without me. Thomas and I need to talk." Addison rips her glare from me to behind me, and because we have always backed each other up, I have no doubt Chevy and Oz are coming up on my six.

Her friend leaves and I don't waste time. "Where is she?"

"Home. Reagan and I pulled in to pick her up this morning and her older brother Liam came out and told us she's not going to school."

An edge of worry shakes my frame. "Is she sick?"

"He said she's not going to school anymore. Breanna's parents are sending her away." The perfect cheerleader leans into me like she's the Riot willing to go to war. "I'm a.s.suming they found out about you, and if you're the reason why I'm losing my best friend, I'm going to make sure you pay."

She wants a piece of me, she can have it, but not now, not until I know how deep this hole goes. "Have you talked with her?"

Addison grimaces like I struck her, but she's quick to recover. "I was allowed to hug her goodbye. Thirty seconds. I've been her best friend for years and because of you I got thirty seconds and you know what she told me to tell you? That the warning shot was sent. Not sure what that means, but I hope it means you'll rot in h.e.l.l."

My entire body straightens as p.i.s.sed-off energy rolls off me in waves. "Did she say anything? About Kyle? About a picture?"

Addison's head ticks back. "No, but what do you mean Kyle and a picture? Is Breanna in trouble? Is-"

No time. The seconds are counting down in rapid succession. The explosion's imminent and Kyle will be part of the damage. I'm through the crowd, scanning faces, and there's footsteps behind me, and unlike on Friday, they aren't trying to stop me, but they're moving with me as if we're a synchronized machine.

The son of a b.i.t.c.h is by his car, chatting with a freshman girl who believes he's G.o.d.