Part 22 (2/2)
Addison's eyes soften and she halfheartedly yanks a strand of my hair. ”You aren't making being your friend easy this year, brat.”
She drops her arm and I catch sight of a huge bruise. I s.n.a.t.c.h her wrist and draw up her sleeve. Disgust swims through me. ”Things with your dad are getting worse, aren't they?”
Addison jerks back and pushes down her sleeve. ”It's fine.”
”No, it's not fine. This has to stop!”
Fire rages out of her eyes, reminding me of the Terror patch, as she raises a pointed finger in my direction. ”You get to preach to me about my dangerous life if you do something about yours. Until then, I'll back off you and you'll back off me.”
It's like she's reached in and fractured my soul. ”Addison-”
But she's already gone, disappeared into the crowd of people, and has left me alone. My foot edges in the direction she retreated when fingers wrap around my wrist. A grip, then a yank.
Adrenaline shoots into my veins. It's Kyle. He's been doing this more and more. Dragging me into stairwells and hallways. Begging me to tell him what he can give me in return for the papers. Explaining that he feels bad, that he's having nightmares, that he's consumed with guilt. That he's going insane.
In a flash, I'm in the stairwell and I'm greeted by red hair and blue eyes. It's Violet, a girl I've never talked to before, and now we're close to very alone.
”I need you to meet me after school,” Violet whispers as she leans into me.
Talk about being on an upside-down roller coaster. ”What?”
”It's Razor. He's been shot and he's asking for you.”
It's after school and I'm in free fall. Two million thoughts in my mind and I can't hold on to a single one. Violet's charging through the green forest and I'm on her heels. We parked a quarter mile away and she's spitting out a laundry list of warnings like...
”You're supposed to be smart. Everyone says you're smart. Why would Razor be asking for you? Everyone knows to stay away from him. Everyone! And he goes and says the name of the one girl who should have the brains to stay away.”
Razor was shot. With a gun. Metal entered his body at speeds of hundreds of miles per hour. Razor said he valued life. He said he took owning a gun seriously, but obviously other people don't share his point of view.
He could be dying and I might not ever see him again and Violet won't answer questions, at least not directly, and her nonanswers cause bile to continually inch up my throat. ”Why isn't he in a hospital?”
I'm in my sandals and have a hard time keeping pace with Violet's blistering speed. Because I'm wearing a skirt, the long gra.s.s swats at my legs and stings my skin.
”Because they're f.u.c.ked-up, that's why.” Twigs crack under Violet's feet as she glances over her shoulder at me. ”Razor used to be a normal kid. Well, as normal as you get being raised by thugs, but then they messed with him.”
”Who's they?” I stumble over a root and catch myself on the bark of a towering tree. Leaves of three on a vine. I flick my hand away.
”Who do you think? The club.” She pauses. ”He's screwed up in the head, Razor, I mean-you know that, right?”
A crow caws overhead and there's a rush of beating wings as an entire flock of birds take flight. We're surrounded by a green canopy, but the growth is so thick that the forest floor lacks full afternoon light. Despite the heat of the October day, goose b.u.mps form on my arms.
”He's been good to me,” I say.
The tough expression she wears at school dissolves, and in front of me is a girl I'm not sure many people have met. ”You're probably the only person in the world who would ever admit that.”
”If I'm not allowed at the clubhouse...” Violet explained that females aren't allowed in there without a member sponsoring them. She also said no one under eighteen is permitted. If I could pa.s.s either of those qualifications, it wouldn't matter because the clubhouse is on lockdown-whatever that means. ”And if you hate Razor so much, then why are you doing this?”
She flinches. ”I never said I hated Razor.”
”It seemed implied.” In our short time together, she's blasphemed the Reign of Terror MC to the point I've been ready for her to sacrifice an animal to complete the curse.
”You don't understand me or the Terror. n.o.body understands. All this town is good for is gossip and lies.”
I agree. I don't understand how a guy everyone is terrified of makes me feel safe. I don't understand how a guy who stayed behind to protect me when he didn't know me has been shot. I don't understand how a guy who carried me out of an alley full of shattered gla.s.s is the enemy everyone is warning me about.
Violet's mouth trembles as if whatever she's holding in is causing her pain. ”My father is dead because of the Terror. My reputation has been ruined since kindergarten. My mother is a mess, my brother has issues...my life has been damaged by the club, so excuse the s.h.i.+t out of me if I'm not their biggest fan.”
”Then why are you taking me here?” I ask.
”Because...” She struggles to breathe. ”It's Razor and he asked for you.”
When she exhales, it's like she's flipped an emotional switch from on to off. Not sure which one I prefer-the girl who felt everything or the girl who appears stone cold. ”I don't know why he asked for you, and I sure as h.e.l.l don't understand why you agreed to come with me, but some advice?”
I nod.
”Break this off with Razor, because there's nowhere for it to go. I know who you are. Everyone at school has your number. You're the supersmart girl who's going to leave Snowflake for good, and I can also tell you aren't clubhouse girl material.”
My knee bends as I s.h.i.+ft my weight and I feel oddly overdressed in my sweater and skirt. Something about the way Violet said clubhouse girl brought up the image of less clothes and more confidence.
”Maybe Razor doesn't want a clubhouse girl.” Whatever that means.
She laughs. Throws her head back and laughs. ”As I said, you don't understand. He won't walk away from the club for you.”
”I'd never ask him to.”
Her eyes narrow on me as if she could choke me with her glare. ”I sneaked into a party once, know what I saw? My dad doing body shots with a woman who wasn't my mother-his wife. Women swinging their bare t.i.ts as they danced on the bar. You aren't the kind of girl who's going to let a strange guy do body shots off you and you sure as h.e.l.l aren't the girl who's going to strip for s.h.i.+ts and giggles in front of a crowd. Are you telling me you're going to be fine being with a guy that calls that a typical Friday night?”
A lump hardens in my throat and I stagger back. No, I wouldn't. In fact, the idea repulses me. Razor's words haunt me... I had s.e.x for the first time the night I patched in...
”And let's say you can get over all that,” she continues. ”I seriously doubt you'll be okay being hara.s.sed by everyone in town and by the police. You're going to resent every whispered rumor and judgment, which means you are going to resent everyone in the world. And then there are those dark, silent and lonely nights you wait by the phone to hear if the people you love have been shot or killed. The MC path for a woman isn't a life-it's a death sentence.”
I look behind me, over my shoulder, back to the way we came. This is what I've heard my entire life...what I've been told over and over again. And this girl-Violet-she was raised with them, she knows what no one else knows, has seen what no one else has seen, and she's telling me to run.
There's a crackling of leaves and my head snaps back in Violet's direction. A woman with dark hair appears. She's older than me but younger than my mother and she eyes me and Violet warily. ”What's going on, Violet?”
”This is Rebecca,” Violet says to me as she studies the new woman. ”I texted her for help. This is Breanna.”
Rebecca inclines her head as if she understands why my name should mean something. ”How did you know?”
It's a question to Violet and Violet's response is a shrug. ”I'll wait here for her. Breanna mentioned she has to be home by four thirty, so the two of you might want to get moving.”
”Club's on lockdown. Neither of you would be permitted near the property.”
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