Walk The Edge (Thunder Road #2)(39)

“The guys put up a picture of Violet and the Terror didn’t do a thing.” It’s the crazy in his eyes that scares me. “What makes you think he’ll do anything for a one-night stand?”

“I didn’t do anything with him.” I grit my teeth. “He’s my friend.”

“Razor doesn’t have friends. His own club is terrified of him. Even his mother drove over a bridge to get away. If the Terror didn’t save Violet, Razor sure as hell isn’t going to help you.”

“What if I still say no? What if I tell you to go to hell?”

He looks me point-blank in the eye as if he’s a firing squad. “Then I walk away from here and tell the people who run the Snowflake Sluts account to push send.”





RAZOR

Cyrus: I have something for you. Something Olivia wanted you to have.

ACROSS THE YARD, the clubhouse is shut up and the yard is empty. It’s Monday around noon. Most of the guys from the club who are employees for the security company are out on runs. The other half of the club, the guys who work normal jobs, are out doing their thing. It’s quiet—lonely—and the only sound is the rustle of leaves moving with the breeze.

In front of Cyrus’s log cabin house, my hand’s poised on the railing ready to go up. If it weren’t for Cyrus’s text, I wouldn’t be here. Dad said the patch on my back is borrowed—that no one believes I’ve earned it. It’s an open-palmed slap in the face and being anywhere near the club wounds my pride enough that my skin crawls.

But Cyrus brought up Olivia. I lower my head. She was the one person in the world who didn’t think I was f*cked-up beyond belief.

“Are you coming in or not?” Cyrus appears on the other side of the screen door.

I climb two steps at a time and Cyrus holds the door open. The place looks the same as when Olivia was alive. She passed a month ago, but even if ten years had gone by, I can’t imagine the house changing. We loved her too much for this to be anything less than a living tomb.

Eli bought the flat-screen television and sectional couch for Olivia, his mother, after his stint in prison. There’s a throw rug on the wooden floor and picture frames are everywhere. Olivia insisted on having visual reminders of the people she loved.

There’s a ton of pictures of people in the club: Olivia and Cyrus; Eli and his brother, James; Olivia’s granddaughter, Emily; and then plenty of the brat pack: Oz, Chevy, Violet and me. We weren’t born to her, but we were her children. She loved us when we were unlovable.

Cyrus enters the kitchen and I hesitate near a framed three-by-five of me and Olivia. Olivia’s beside me and I have my arm lobbed around her shoulders. I’m smiling because she was laughing. Olivia had a contagious laugh and the world is too silent without it.

“Where did you stay last night?” Cyrus calls out.

Figures Dad would notify the club I left. Leaving: another thing I’ve done to add to the list of how unpredictable and untrustworthy I am. “I drove around.”

“All night?” Cyrus pops his head around the door frame. He strokes his long gray beard as he watches me for the lie.

I did drive around, but then I went to the one place no one knows. A place that can soothe my soul. “I haven’t slept yet.”

It’s an answer in a nonanswer and he accepts it. “Second day of school was today.”

The combo of the fight with Dad and no sleep would have made me a lit fuse. Olivia said a smart man knew which battles to fight and which ones to abandon. I waved the white flag on the war otherwise known as school.

Cyrus reenters the living room with a cardboard box in hand. “Your dad reached out to the club to find you. You should call him. Let him know you’re okay. Oz and Chevy went looking for you. You should reach out to them, too. They didn’t like you being MIA.”

Funny how Dad didn’t call or text me, but Oz and Chevy did. I messaged them this morning that I was good, but they were pissed I wouldn’t confess where I was holed up. They didn’t tell anyone we had contact because the three of us are still tight.

“None of us liked you being AWOL.” Eli strolls into the house and pats my shoulder as he walks past. “Why didn’t you come to me or Cyrus last night? You know we’re safe havens.”

They wait for an answer. I’ve admired Cyrus my entire life and then worshipped Eli the moment he rolled into town when I was ten. Before today, before I was patched in, I relied on Eli and Cyrus like a second skin, but after Dad’s admission that the club considers my membership the equivalent of a handout, I’m not sure what my relationship with them is anymore. In fact, I feel like a poser still wearing the cut, but I can’t bring myself to remove it from my back.

Eli’s gaze flickers from Cyrus to the box Cyrus holds in his hand. “This is the moment? Did Olivia choose this specific day or was it an event?”

“Event,” Cyrus answers in a gruff tone. “Makes you scared, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, it does.” Eli cracks his neck to the side. “Let’s do this.”

Eli motions for me to sit on the couch. I do and Cyrus settles into his recliner as Eli pulls a wooden chair out of the kitchen and straddles it across from me. Eli rubs the stars tattooed on his forearm. The guy is hardcore, but ask him what his tattoos mean and most women will weep.