Thunder Road: Walk The Edge Part 34

"You fit in here."

I brush her hair out with my fingers and then smooth it back up. "I didn't think I did."

"Sounds like you were the one not listening."

The rubber band snaps her hair in place, but it's the snap inside me that hurts. "What?"

Elsie glances at me from over her shoulder. "Like when I don't fit in with the other girls, you tell me I have you, which means you have me. And if I have Zac and Paul and Joshua and Liam, then that means you do, too. It sounds to me like you aren't listening."

My body goes numb as my mind begins to disseminate the information. Is it possible... No, I mean Clara has always treated me like... But there are eleven people in my family and she's one. And Liam-he's willing to give up his dreams of independence because he's concerned for me.

"If you're sad because you're in trouble," Elsie says, "then don't be. I get in trouble all the time, and sometimes after I cry, those are the times Mommy hugs me the hardest and you look like you need a hard hug."

And she does it. Elsie hugs me hard, throwing her entire being, soul and all, into loving me. I hug her back and try to fight the lump hardening in my throat.

"It's like you said when Daddy forgot to pick me up at ballet. Sometimes these bad things happen to prove you're strong enough to be a Miller."

My eyes shut with the wetness forming there. I did tell Elsie that. She was sad. I was sad for her and I made being forgotten in the pickup rotation a badge of honor, and it's not until this moment that I realize how right she is. This family is messed up, but it's still my family.

Just like the club is Razor's family. Razor loves me so much that he's willing to go to any length to protect me...even involving his family.

A sense of urgency rushes through me. I need to find Razor. I need to talk with him and tell him I understand his drive to inform the club, his family, but there has to be a way that we can stay together without anyone getting hurt.

"I love you, Elsie." I kiss her temple, and when she eases back, I touch the end of her nose. "And I'm glad Mom and Dad didn't stop at eight."

She grins widely to show two adult teeth and a bunch of crooked baby teeth. "Me, too."

"Let's go get some cookies." I offer my hand, she accepts, and the two of us walk in. Elsie continues to chatter as we pa.s.s the living room, and when she settles into the seat at the kitchen, eats her cookie and drinks her milk.

Razor loves me and he's going to freak when he sees the post. When Elsie hops down from her seat and races off to play with Zac, I stare at Liam's car keys on the island.

I'm already in trouble. Not sure I can go much deeper. Especially when my parents discover the post and how I ran off with Razor earlier today. One more outing won't matter.

Before I lose my courage, I s.n.a.t.c.h Liam's keys and text Razor: Meet me at the bridge. We need to talk.

RAZOR.

WAITING.

It's never been my strong suit and, until Breanna, neither had trusting.

Right now, I'm doing both.

Waiting and trusting.

I'd rather get shot and take a spill on my bike with no jacket and have my skin sc.r.a.ped off by the blacktop than wait for the board to decide how they're going to handle Breanna. Unfortunately, my single option is to sit here in the beat-up chair near the pool tables.

Oz sinks the eight ball in the corner pocket, then tosses the stick onto the table. It rolls until it hits the other side of the green felt. He obviously isn't into this waiting s.h.i.t, either. "You should have come to me."

I tip the chair until the back of my seat smacks the wall behind me so I can rap my head against it. I came clean over an hour ago and I'm already sick of hearing how everyone has faced a demon similar to mine. Truth is-what I hate is how they're right.

Oz eyes me like he's p.i.s.sed. "I handed my cut to Eli thinking I couldn't make it in this club."

My seat falls forward with a crack. "You serious?"

"Dead." He doesn't once blink as he holds my gaze. My best friend isn't lying.

Chevy barrels through the door to the clubhouse. "Try answering your d.a.m.n phone!"

Great. Another guy to lay into me. "Board took my cell." To look at the pictures I took of the detective's files. To research how deep this detective is digging to threaten either us or the Riot. They're also studying the info I gathered on the guys blackmailing Breanna. "They're in Church now."

Church is how the club refers to their private board meetings.

"We got problems."

I stand, hands out in a stop sign. "I told the board and we're working on it."

Chevy yanks his phone out of his pocket, slides his finger across it and tosses it at me. "It's Breanna. She's dropped a mother of a bomb."

On the screen is Breanna's account, but confusion muddles my thoughts. It's the picture of me and her. "Did the son of a b.i.t.c.h hack her account?"

"She posted it and she named Kyle. Whether she realized it or not, Breanna started a war. And here's the thing, we were at practice when he found out. Kid looked crazy and he tore off."

Ice water seeps into my veins. "Why didn't you stop him?"

"I tried," Chevy says. "But coach physically held me back. As soon as he left, so did I and came straight here. If I was Kyle and my world was falling apart, I'd go after the source of the pain, brother, and we need to get to Breanna before he does."

I could race out of here now. Return to controlling this problem. It's what I've done for years. What instinct screams at me to do, but I can't continue to rely only on myself. This doing it on my own...it's what makes me weaker. The club is what makes me stronger.

I turn to Oz as I dial Breanna's number. "Interrupt Church. If Kyle's on the warpath, I need a wall of cuts surrounding her."

Chevy pulls out his keys as Oz runs up the stairs. He pats me on the back as we head for our bikes. "Never thought I'd say this, but let's go win you the girl."

Win me the girl. It's what I want, but for now, I'll settle for her being safe.

Breanna answers after two rings. "h.e.l.lo?"

I almost swear with relief at the sound of her sweet voice. "It's me. Tell me where you are. I'm coming to get you."

"The bridge. I'm driving to the bridge because I want to talk to you."

Breanna Miller @breanna212 2 hrs I'm Breanna Miller. The smart girl. The quiet girl. The one who belongs to a large family. I'm Breanna Miller. Number 5 in the line of 9. The girl who everybody knows and n.o.body sees. I'm Breanna Miller. A girl who went to Shamrock's and ended up falling in love with Thomas Turner-Razor of the Reign of Terror. The boy who everybody sees and n.o.body knows. I've been with him for months. I'm in love with him and I don't care who knows.

I'm Breanna Miller. I don't know what I want to do with my life. I don't know yet who I want to be. I'm Breanna Miller and I'm not sure what my future might hold.

I'm Breanna Miller and Kyle Hewitt took this picture of me and Razor after Razor saved me from a potentially dangerous situation. Kyle took pictures of me when I was vulnerable. He took this one when Razor was being a perfect gentleman. He took it in a moment where it looked like more happened than what really did.

And even if something did happen, that is between me and Razor and not between me, Razor and the rest of the world. Private lives should remain private. Period.

Kyle has been blackmailing me to write his papers. His first one is due on Monday. I won't be writing it. In fact, because of this picture, I possibly won't be in school anymore, nor will I be in Snowflake, and any dreams I've had for my life might be ruined.

I'm Breanna Miller and you'll think of me whatever you want. Some of you might call me a freak. Some of you might call me a s.l.u.t. Call me whatever you want, but I'm Breanna Miller and I know who I am and it officially doesn't matter what any of you think.

Share, like, comment. It doesn't matter. At midnight tonight, I'll be deleting this account.

Breanna LIAM'S ENGINE WHINES when it hits forty-five, so I've kept the speedometer to under forty. He's going to be furious when he discovers I "borrowed" his car without his permission, but there's too much at stake.

The muscles in my neck tighten as I turn onto the access road that leads to the bridge and my skin vibrates with nervous antic.i.p.ation. This dread is like a sixth sense screaming at me that the world is collapsing. That's because it is. It's been a bad day, a bad night, just a bad...life.

But then I think of Razor's hands touching my bare back, the way his lips feathered kisses along my neck. It's not all bad. Some of it has been very, very good.

Razor. It's like my soul breathed his name.

Razor is the only thing that's been right in my life.

A rumble of an engine from behind me and my eyes flicker to the rearview mirror. The late-afternoon sun glints off the windshield and nausea strikes my stomach hard and fast. Cherry-red muscle car. It's Kyle.

He lays on the horn and uneasiness tiptoes through my bloodstream. This area is isolated. No traffic, no houses, no farms. Just very, very alone.

Kyle blares his horn again and my palms sweat. Fading fall gra.s.s borders both sides of the narrow road. There's nowhere to go. No sanctuary in sight.

He revs his engine and his horn sounds off again as he swerves. Kyle pushes alongside of me, the left side of his car angling up as he races along the gra.s.s. My heart beats hard and a million thoughts collide in my mind. Stop. Don't stop. Grab my phone. Call for help. Go faster. Hit the brakes. Be better. Be smarter.

A flash of red. Metal crunches against metal and the steering wheel jerks. My body jars with the impact and I fight the losing battle to keep the car on the road. The frame shudders as I press the brake, but the car hurtles toward the tree. I'm going faster, why am I going faster? The brake, the brake, the brake.

I lift my foot off the gas, rip the wheel to the side, slam on the brake and miss the tree by inches. My body whiplashes to the side. Pain against my skull. And the entire world possesses a dreamlike haze.

The door to the car creaks. A combination of the warm sun and the cold autumn breeze drifts across my skin.

"Come on!" It's Kyle's voice, but his face is nothing but a blur.

The seat belt is unbuckled, my body is moving because of a pull on my arm and it's odd how my legs work. There's a humming in my ears and I close my eyes to gain my bearings.

When I open them, it's too bright, and as I strain to make sense of my surroundings, the blue sky appears. The tugging on my arm grows stronger. My feet instinctually pick up the pace.

Kyle's mouth is opening and closing. Words I can't hear fall from his lips. There's just the loud buzz and my moving feet. I blink. One time. Another. Recognition in the form of a memory causes me to trip over my feet.

"This is where Razor brought me." My own voice sounds muted. Far away. As if I'm talking through a thick gla.s.s.

The hold on my arm tightens and it's painful enough that a sharp "Ow" leaves my throat. That one declaration causes the fog in my head to sweep away in time for Kyle to step on the bridge looming before us.

My breath catches in my throat. Kyle.

Kyle has me and he's yelling and he's furious. His face red, his eyes wide, he's spitting as he continues to scream at me and this isn't Razor's bridge. This is the other bridge. This is the one that the trains use. I snap my arm back and it slips in his clammy hand. "No!"

I spin on my toes and spot motorcycles. Four of them, then two more. They park in the gra.s.s next to the abandoned car. Racing off their bikes, yelling at us to stop. One of them has blond hair and he's faster than the others, running as if he's watching his life coming to an end.

"Razor!"

An arm around my waist and I'm being dragged. Onto the train tracks, onto the bridge, and below us the rapids swirl. The roar of the water replaces the buzzing in my head. White foam waves lash up, then get sucked into the undertow.

I have to get off this bridge. I need to get to safety. I prepare to kick, raise my elbow to strike a blow, then Kyle circles us and I can't breathe.

We're on the edge and he's leaning me over. My feet scoot back and smack his and I recoil, but the more I struggle, the more he uses his body weight.

"Stay back," Kyle shouts. "Stay the f.u.c.k back!"

Not quite a hundred feet-the drop is easily that huge. Into the rocky ravine. Into shallow rapids. At forty-eight feet, the chance of surviving a fall is fifty percent. At eighty-four feet, ten percent. I wish I had never read that article. Wish I could remain ignorant.

"Why did you do it? Why did you write that post? Why did you ruin my life? I'm going to lose everything. Everything."

"You did this. You're the one that took the photo."

"But I never would have released it." We shake as he yells and I press back, into him, away from the edge. "It was just a threat. To scare you. I never would have released it."

"You released the one of Violet."

"That was them. Not me!" He shoves us closer to the edge again. "That wasn't me!"

"Calm down," comes a voice, and it's not Razor's. I rip my focus away from the water and there's a man with blond hair and a cut like Razor's slowly approaching the bridge. His hands are up-a sign of submission. "Just calm down."

"I said stay back!" Kyle's voice vibrates against my back.

My pulse pounds in my ears. "Please, stay back!"

"Breanna," Razor calls. "It's going to be okay. I promise."

A promise. Razor's next to the other man and I don't see the terror inside me reflected on him. Razor is calm, too calm, and he subtly nods at me. "I promise," he repeats.

I swallow to ease my dry throat and nod back. Razor never makes a promise he doesn't intend to keep. It's then that I realize that my fingers have a death grip on Kyle's arms. The one wrapped near my throat, the other snaked around my waist.

"Were you stalking her?" the guy next to Razor asks. Pigpen. I bet this is the Pigpen Razor has talked about.

"No!" Kyle shakes his head, b.u.mping mine. "I drove by her house to see her and I saw her taking off. I followed her. That's it."

"Now you're holding her over a bridge. How do you see this playing out, kid?"

"Get on your bikes and leave." Kyle's voice trembles and so does his body. "That's what's going to happen. I'll let her go then and then I'll leave. I'm not the bad guy in this. I didn't take or put up the picture of Violet. I'm not the one!"

"Promise you won't hurt him," I say.

Razor tilts his head to show he's consumed with the thought of hurting Kyle, but he remains silent as Pigpen says, "Hurting you was never an option on the table. We don't operate like that. Hurting kids isn't how we work."

"I'm not a kid!"

"A man wouldn't be holding a girl on a bridge like he's about to toss her over. I swear on my patch, killing you is not in the Terror's plans."

I blink as I hear the promise and Razor raises his head for me to not tip their hand. They don't have plans to kill Kyle, but anything else, like maybe jail time, is up for negotiation.