Part 17 (1/2)

I kiss her cheek and walk away. She follows, smacking my a.s.s, and smiles as she shoulders by me. ”You're too young to be in love, Razor, but whoever it is, she's a lucky girl.”

I s.n.a.t.c.h her wrist before she disappears into the crowd in her search for her rebound good time. ”I'm not in love.”

Amy sadly laughs and it's the type that hits her eyes in that sympathetic way I hate. ”I lied about just now finding you. I've watched you text for the past half hour. Me and you-we had fun together, but I never made you smile.”

She touches the edge of my lips. ”You should smile more often, but if whoever it is makes you sad, you know where to find me.”

Here on any Friday or Sat.u.r.day night. ”Have fun tonight.”

She waggles her eyebrows. ”Will do.”

My back pocket vibrates and I leave the clubhouse, striding past the bonfire and groups of guys cutting up. The night is dark, no moon, and it's even darker when I enter the tree line and head for the towering oak Chevy, Oz, Violet and I used as home base. I can almost hear Violet singing, ”Not it.”

There's a shadow of a form leaning against the tree and I'm impressed she showed. It's taken me two weeks of groveling to get her to agree to this, but I did grovel because this will be my first solid lead. ”You missed your dad's memorial.”

Violet powers on her cell so the two of us have light during this clandestine reunion. ”It's the club's fault he died. Why would I partic.i.p.ate in something that will ease their guilt?”

I cross my arms over my chest, not caring to get into a p.i.s.sing match with her. ”The picture of you that was put up on Bragger, were you being blackmailed?”

She goes pale against her red hair. I smacked the nail on the head.

”How did you know?” she whispers.

”It's happening to someone else.”

”Who?” she asks, then answers her own question with an annoyed huff. ”Breanna Miller.”

I don't verbally confirm it, but I do meet her eyes.

”That sucks,” she says. ”Not that it should happen to anyone, but she's too nice for someone to be messing with her.”

”This stays between us.”

Violet nods and I can't decide if I'm comforted or mad that the two of us fall so easily into our friends.h.i.+p even though she has s.h.i.+t on everyone else I love.

”What's going on with you and Breanna?” she asks.

I shrug. ”She's helping me with something personal, so I'm going to try to help her with this, but I need to know what I'm dealing with.”

”No way. My life may suck because of that picture, but I will not have club blood on my hands. Does Breanna know she's making a deal with the devil?”

”This is on me, not the club. I promised her they wouldn't be involved.”

Violet's head jerks back. ”You're lying to the club?”

Why is she shocked? ”I kept what you've told me quiet.”

”Yeah, but I didn't think you would, which is why I didn't tell you everything. Razor-if the club finds out you're hiding something big like this from them, they'll kick you out.”

She's not wrong. The club would want to know about anything involving Violet. She was the daughter of a brother who died. They feel it's our job to protect her now. As for the stuff going down with Breanna, they probably would be p.i.s.sed if they knew that I'm seeking retribution without their knowledge or consent. Then again, Violet doesn't understand how close I am to being thrown out to begin with. ”That's my problem. Is it Hewitt that blackmailed you?”

She's silent as she weighs whether or not she should tell me. What's seriously jacked is that I have a cut on my back that says I have an entire clubhouse of men who should trust me, but the only ones putting that trust into action are two seventeen-year-old girls.

”No,” she says. ”I had no idea Kyle was involved. Not until you just told me that Breanna's being blackmailed, and, by the way, how is that possible? The girl is a saint. What on earth can he have on her?”

Tension forms in my neck and I pop it to the right. ”He has a picture of me and her together, and before you go there, don't. We didn't do anything.”

She smirks. ”You must have been doing something, and go you for 'not doing anything' with the smart girl. I bet her family must be thrilled she's not only into a Terror boy, but she's dating the notorious Terror boy.”

”We're friends.”

A ”psh” leaves her. ”You don't have friends, but for s.h.i.+ts and giggles, let's say you are just friends-keep it that way. Don't mess up that girl's life by dragging her into the club.”

My patience level is depleting fast. ”Who blackmailed you?”

”Promise no club involvement.”

”I already gave my word to Breanna.”

”Great, but you gave it to her for her situation. I want your word on my situation.”

Keeping a secret from the club regarding Breanna-I could justify that. She has no club involvement. But keeping a secret of who has caused Violet pain and misery, the secret I swore to tell the board the moment I found out-I'm entering near d.a.m.nation. Good thing I've been teetering on this ledge for a while. ”You have my word.”

Trusting I'll stay true, she immediately answers, ”Rob McEntire.”

A muscle in my jaw twitches and Violet shrinks. That's the a.s.shole she was making out with the night the Riot flew into town. ”What was he blackmailing you for?”

Violet raises her chin and creates a fist with her fingers. ”Something that I took the risk of not doing, and you saw how that blew up in my face.”

I'm a d.a.m.n pot on the stove getting ready to boil. Violet's smart. If she said s.e.xual favors out loud, I would already be on my bike and would be seconds away from ripping his heart from his chest with my bare hands. ”He's still blackmailing you.”

She looks away now, at the tree, and her foot begins to tap. ”I lost my chance at a scholars.h.i.+p out of this dump town over that picture. I was a finalist and they called and I was happy and Mom was happy and a few days after the picture went up the college called back and told me what they found on the internet and that I was no longer-” she uses her fingers to create quotation marks ”-material that lived up to their standards. So, yeah, I said yes to Rob and in return he took the picture down.”

But it's still out there. And other places now. She knows this. I know this, but like Kyle had warned Breanna, they probably had more.

”You should have come to me,” I say.

”I did!” Tears form in her eyes. ”You demanded that we go to the club when I needed my friend. The moment I said a name, Chevy, Eli or Cyrus would have taken a gun to his head.”

”What makes you believe I won't?” I ask. ”I'm the crazy one, remember?”

”You're emotional,” she says. ”But you think before you leap. They don't just leap-they go psychotic. Eli went to jail over a temper tantrum gone wrong and I'm sick of it. I'm sick of living in this d.a.m.ned town!”

My fingers curl in and out because the need is to shout. To throttle her because she knows this club is legit, that they never would have killed anyone, but then there's a question in the back of my head. A lingering doubt. My mom. I have to swallow the hurt tightening my throat.

Something caused Violet to walk away from her family, and whatever that something is, I wonder if it's on the same level of agony as my mother.

Violet hugs herself and she looks so d.a.m.n pathetic that my chest aches. I swear under my breath, then wrap my arms around her. Her shoulders shake and each deep breath she takes to keep from crying causes the anger inside me to build. My heart breaks for her, for the friends.h.i.+p that's been floundering this past year, and for how Breanna must also be emotionally crumbling.