Walk The Edge (Thunder Road #2)(11)

“You’re welcome.”

It’s getting darker faster, and under her touch the cell springs to life and brightens her face. There’s no way I’m abandoning her. On top of the meth heads in town, the Terror have had issues with a rival motorcycle club, the Riot.

There’s a lot of history between the Terror and the Riot. Tip of the iceberg is that they’re mad we won’t give them money for riding in their “territory.” We’re mad that they believe they have the right to ask. Last I checked, America was still the land of the free.

Over the past two weeks, the Riot have taken to joyriding near our town. They’re testing boundaries and the club’s on edge wondering if our unsteady peace agreement is floundering.

All of us are waiting for them to cross lines they shouldn’t and ride into town. If the Riot do drive by tonight and they hear we’ve been at the school, they might check it out. Leaving this girl alone with the likes of them is like offering fresh meat to a starved wolf.

“Need a ride?” I ask.

She waves her phone. “No, thank you. My family is on their way.”

Breanna peeks at me between swipes of her phone and I don’t miss how her eyes linger on my biceps. Good girls like Breanna like to look, but they don’t like to touch. A few more glances and a clearing of her throat. She’s dismissing me. Her life sucks because I’m not leaving.

“I’m Razor.” Though I have no doubt she knows and, if not, I’m aware she can read the road name patch sewn to the front of my cut.

“I’m Breanna,” she answers in this soft tone that dances across my skin. Damn, I could listen to that voice all night, especially if she sighs my name as I kiss the skin of her neck.

Yeah, I would like to see this girl on the back of my bike. As I said, I’m not a great guy, and earlier I was just going for good, but her luck ran out. My bad side took over. “I know.”

The right side of my mouth tips up as her face falls. I’m about to play Breanna like she’s never been manipulated before. I hitch my thumbs in my pockets and decide to enjoy the ride. “So, that twenty dollars? Why did you bring that up?”

“What?” She recoils.

“Do you have something you need me to protect?” I ask.

She’s lost and that’s my intention. “That’s what I do—protect things. I work for the club protecting semi loads from being stolen. Can be dangerous. Sometimes I’ve had to pull a gun. I’m assuming that’s why you brought up the money. You need me to protect something for you.”

She blinks. A lot. I fight to prevent from smiling. I press her again, knowing she’ll feel so bad for calling me a crook that the next time I ask, she’ll accept that ride. “Is that why you brought up the twenty dollars? Were you trying to hire me?”





Breanna

IS THAT WHY you brought up the twenty dollars? And things were going so well. As in I no longer thought Thomas was going to kidnap me and kill me. I made a mistake. A huge mistake. I insinuated he planned on robbing me because...well...I thought he was three seconds from robbing me. I thought if I told him what I had, the experience would be less painful.

Literally.

My phone vibrates. It’s my mother and I can hear her weary voice in the written words. Sorry? Bre. I could make excuses, but I thought your dad picked you up and he thought I got you and both of us were home and thought you were upstairs. Your dad left to pick up Zac and I let Joshua take my car. Liam’s on his way to get you now.

Liam. My fate rests in the hands of my older brother who has the mental maturity of a grape. For the love of God, he got a Froot Loop stuck up his nose this morning—on purpose.

My shoulders roll forward as I groan. Loudly. So loud that when I raise my head, Thomas is gawking at me like I’ve grown a unicorn horn.

That’s it. I’m going to die a horrible death. I’m alone with a biker who has a patch that indicates he carries deadly weapons and he already admitted he uses a gun. He’ll probably record my demise and upload a viral video as a warning to the rest of the world not to mess with him.

Twenty dollars. What reason can I think of for telling him about my twenty dollars that won’t insult him? I doubt that saying “Hey, Mr. Biker Guy, I was totally offering it as payment so you won’t kill me” would fly...or maybe it will. He protects things...semi loads...as a job... “Yes!”

His forehead furrows. “What’s a yes?”

I bounce on my toes. I’m happy. I’m excited. I am not going to die! Muppet arms are in full force. “I was offering you twenty dollars because I was going to hire you.”

He laughs. It’s more of a chuckle, but it’s a fantastic sound and it’s a beautiful sight on an already gorgeous face. My heart flutters for a moment beyond the fear, but as his laugh wanes, he narrows his frozen blue eyes on me. My happy moment fades, and my arms fall to my sides.

“I’ll bite. What are you hiring me for?”

I sweep my hair away from my face and steal a peek at the rest of his motorcycle friends, who are now talking among themselves and ignoring us. “To be my bodyguard.”

“Your bodyguard?” he repeats while crossing his arms over his chest.

He’s not buying it, but I’ll try to sell it. “I knew you protected stuff.”