Razor's Edge (Afflictions) (7 page)

A door slams.

I stand and run a hand through my wind-whipped, spiky hair.

Shay’s headed our way, clutching her beanie in both hands. Her eyebrows are narrow and there is a glare to her eyes. She’s pissed and shakes her body out as if to rid it of a creepy feeling. I don’t blame her. My nerves are shot. They’re lucky they’re not injured.

"What did the tow company say?" Tryst asks.

She bends down, hugs Ben and kisses his head.

He pushes her away. His cheeks are red as he glances back at me and rolls his eyes. "I’m fine, Mom. Jeez."

She shakes her head and sighs. "It’s a state of emergency and their hands are tied." She stands up and puts her beanie back on. "There were a ton of accidents tonight, and since I’m fine and my car is off the road, I’m low priority. They can’t have anyone out here until tomorrow afternoon. I gave them my number, and they said they’d call when they were sending someone out."

"Tomorrow afternoon?" Tryst growls. "How long does it take them to clear the damn roads?"

"It depends on the number of accidents and how bad they are." I shrug. "I used to work for a towing company when I was a teen. They gave you that time to cover their asses. They’ll probably call you sooner than that."

"Fabulous!" Shay throws up her hands.

I smile. Can’t help it. I’m glad they’re okay. “Come on, we’ve got an extra room at the cabin.”

              Eight

Shay

Morgan’s leather seats are cozy, erasing the winter chill in my bones and his Hummer has that new-car smell.
How does he have the money to afford something like this?
This is not how I envisioned spending my night, but sitting next to him almost makes it worth it. Wish I hadn’t wrecked my front end, though.

Morgan keeps his concentration locked on driving. Gone is the fear I saw in his eyes when he got out of his car. It’s almost like he cared about what could’ve happened to me. We might not know each other well, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen Gary panic in a situation like that. Well… only when it came to me not doing something right. It was always my fault when events turned sour. Morgan’s different. He sneaks a peek at me, a slight smile on his face then turns his attention back to the road.

Busted.
A blast of heat fills my cheeks and I can’t help but smile.
He caught me staring at him.
Awesome.

I look out the window. Anything to keep my vision from straying to the man I couldn’t get my mind off of earlier. It’s a lost cause. Knowing that he’s sitting just inches away from me, my eyes travel back to him.

His strong brows are narrowed and he plays with his lip ring. The dead focus he has on getting us to the cabin safe sends a blast of arousal through me. He’s in protection mode, playing hero and protector to our situation.
Need to look at something else.

The snow whirls and dances in the headlights. The
wind howls a warning of how deadly it is. It’s so strong it makes the Hummer swerve a little. Morgan’s a great driver and does an excellent job of keeping it on the road. Even given what happened before, I’m not afraid of crashing in this beast.

"And she swerved." Ben makes a brake screeching sound as he retells our adventure for the fifth time.

Wiley groans.

I turn to look at him. "Ben, honey. I know you’re excited, but can we talk about something else?"

Morgan clicks on his blinker and makes a slow right onto the long road that will take us to the highway. "Hey, Ben you wanna watch a movie?"

"Yeah!"

Morgan smiles. "
Despicable Me
, okay?"

What is a guy like Morgan doing with a kid’s movie? He didn’t strike me as a guy who had a kid. Does he? Does he have a wife? I look at his hand. No ring or tan line.
Girlfriend?

"I love
Despicable Me
." Ben’s bouncing between Wiley and Tryst.

Wiley sighs, long and full of frustration, and his drumming on the window is getting louder.

What the hell is his problem? Like a kid about to watch a movie is a big inconvenience to him.
I don’t say anything, though. I don’t want to start shit. 

“Shay, the DVD is in the center console, can you grab it?" Morgan asks.

I do as he says and pop the DVD in. The movie starts. Everyone’s quiet. Fifteen minutes go by and my eyes get heavy.

“We’re here,” Morgan says and I snap awake. 

We’re going down a long driveway and the storm has died down some.

Wiley groans from the back. “’Bout fucking time.”

“Hey.” I turn around in my seat to glare at him. “Watch your mouth in front of my son.”

“Kid’s asleep.”

“You want me to put you to sleep?” Morgan glances back at him in the rearview. “Show her some respect, man. She’s had a hard night.”

“We all have.”

“Boo-hoo.” Tryst’s gravelly voice comes from next to Ben.

This whole time I completely forgot Tryst was in the car. I hate when he does that crap. Makes you forget he’s there because he goes all stone quiet on you.

“Whatever.” Wiley looks out the window.

Some men can’t take being turned down. This guy is a mega jerk, making a pass at me when I’m down on my luck. Maybe going into the story about Gary was the wrong thing to do. Damn my mouth for not wanting to shut up. I should have kept it to “I’m not looking to have fun right now,” but that would have been a lie.

“Ignore Wiley.” Morgan pulls up to a huge two-story cabin. "He acts like a little bit–" he glances at Ben in the rearview, "baby when things don’t go his way."

Wiley gets out of the Hummer and slams the door. An Arctic blast fills the interior with his
fuck you
.

Ben’s snore cuts out but quickly dips back in. He can fall asleep during anything and stay that way. Gary’s to thank for that one, blasting his heavy metal in our loft when Ben was just a baby. Guess he grew a tolerance for loud noises.

"What’s up with your friend?" Tryst opens the door and begins to unbuckle Ben. "He’s the one who wanted you to turn around."

Turn around?

Morgan takes the keys out and opens the door. "He gets testy when he’s tired."

“No, it’s clear. Wiley doesn’t want me here.” I’m stuck. We’re out in the boonies and I have no way to get home until morning. A night in a cabin with Wiley? I’m not scared of him with Tryst and Morgan here. But what happens when they conk out? Wiley’s a stranger and he kind of reminds me of another Gary. I didn’t like the way he was staring at me while I made my phone call and his attitude toward me since hasn’t convinced me that he doesn’t have it out for me.

Morgan gets out of the car, but leans back in. "What’re you going to do, Shay? Sleep in the Hummer?"

He reaches behind his seat and grabs the backpack I brought along. There’s a tightness to his face. Wiley really pissed him off. I don’t want to be the bitch between them.

"If it will make Wiley feel better, then...” That’s the perfect solution. Wiley doesn’t have it out for my son and Ben deserves a warm bed. Tryst will watch him if I ask. "Yeah."

Morgan hands Tryst the backpack. "Take Ben into the cabin and put him in the room we’re not using. I have to talk to Shay."

Tryst glances back and forth between us, like he doesn’t know what to do.

I lean over the seat and look my cousin in the eye, hoping he’ll see my desperation. “Can you watch him tonight, Tryst? I really don’t want to sleep in that place with Wiley.” 

He nods, then carries a sleeping Ben toward the cabin.

Morgan and I watch until he’s inside, then Morgan gets back into the Hummer and slams his door. He curses under his breath, takes off his beanie, and chucks it into the back seat.

I can’t tell if he’s mad at me, Wiley, or the situation in general. He’d have the right to be angry with me. I’m the one who ruined their fun. "It’s not like I planned on being the bitch here. I’m just staying out of Wiley’s way."

"Shit, Shay, that’s not why I’m mad." He leans back and stares at the ceiling. "I’m pissed off at Wiley. I’m pissed off at myself. And I’m pissed off at the situation. What the hell were you doing on that road, anyway?"

"Ben and I were on our way home from sledding." The one time I decide to cut loose. Scratch that. The second time I decide to cut loose I end up crashing into a guy-only trip. The first time I let some fun in my life, post Gary, I beat the snot out of a blonde tart. Maybe I should just stick to what I know: making sure all my responsibilities are covered.

Dammit.
"I thought it’d be fun to take Ben to a sled hill I used to go to as a kid. It’s not my fault a deer jumped into the road.
And
I didn’t make you turn around to get us."

A muscle in his jaw ticks. "No, Wiley made me turn around. I wasn’t
gonna go back for you."

Morgan

Shay flinches.

You’re a moron for telling her that.
She didn’t need to know. The point is, Wiley convinced me and because he did, now she’s safe. I’m an asshole. Still, I can’t help but tell her the truth. Why? She shouldn’t feel bad about the situation she’s in. I should be the one feeling guilty.

Wiley’s acting like he has a huge hemorrhoid coming out his ass. I’ve never seen my friend this worked up over a chick before. Well, other than
Renna, and that’s a page in his history I try to stay away from. I’m more ticked off at myself. That dread I felt earlier was trying to tell me that she needed help, and I ignored it, just like I always do. "I wasn’t going to come back because I’m a dick."

She sits up straight. "I don’t think you’re a dick."

“You should."

"You’re being too hard on yourself. Not many people would stop. They’d assume I had a cell phone. It’s not like I
was out flagging down the first car I saw."

“Why didn’t you?”

“When I saw your Hummer go by I didn’t know it was you. It could have been anyone and I had Ben in the car.”

An image of Shay waving down a highway Jack
The Ripper flashes across my mind. It was a smart move to stay in the car. Hell, if the driver was of the Bundy, Holmes, Manson, or even Gacy kind, they’d probably turn around whether she was waving her SOS or not.

It’s way past time for a blunt.
I wonder if there’s one in the glove box.
When was the last time I bought a bag? Did I leave one in there?

I lean over and pop the glove box. “
I
should have stopped.” Nothing. Only my owner’s manual, a pen, and my registration and insurance info.
I wonder if Wiley has some.
Can’t—the damn bet. Shit.

"You came back and got me." She glances down at my frantic search through the glove box. “Looking for something?”

“Yeah, pot.”
I know it’s in here somewhere.
It’s got to be.

“You smoke pot?” The sharp anger in her voice turns my head. Her brows are pinched.

Oh yeah, Tryst said she was against the reefer. Fuck my big mouth. “No, I don’t smoke it.”

It’s the truth for the most part. I’m not toking up this week. Is it bad that I don’t want her to judge me before I’ve had a chance to prove I’m not a bad guy?

“Then why are you looking for pot?’

Umm… Good question. Why am I…? “Bryan smokes it. Wanted to make sure it was out of the car before I take you home tomorrow.”

“Bryan’s not here and you thought of this now?” Her eyebrows raise.

I nod.

“One, you should never let your friends carry drugs in your car. And two,” she shrugs, “I’ll help you look for it. I don’t want it in here either.”

Fuck
. She bought it. Not an asshole anymore. “Douche bag” about sums it up. What the hell is wrong with me? Why couldn’t I just tell her the truth?

Orange blossoms.

The scent carries as she leans over the seat and checks the pouch in the back of it. Her delicious ass is inches from my face. I want to bite it. Grab it. Thrust it down on—my dick throbs.

Her body goes still. She glances over her shoulder at me and tucks a stray strand of silky black hair behind her ear. “Aren’t you looking anymore?”

Lookin’ to get you out of those pants and onto my cock.

She blinks.

The ganja. I completely forgot what she was hunting for. She wiped out my urge to toke up just by turning around and giving me her delectable backside? I shake my head, again.
Keep up with the fucking program.
“No. If it was here it’d be in the front seat.”

“Oh.” A slow sexy smile pulls at her lips. She leans in and takes over my oxygen space. Her soft hand lands on mine. A light zap courses through me. She adjusts her position, bringing her body almost as close to me as her face. Damn she smells delicious.

That’s right, angel.
My tongue rolls my lip ring and I pull it into my mouth.
Kiss her.
I sure as hell want too. Then I’d be taking advantage of her. She could be in shock. That would explain the weird attitude about wanting to sleep in my Hummer. Whatever it is, she’s not thinking clearly.

It’s ridiculous to stay out here. She’s cooled off by now, if this little flirtation has anything to say about it. There is a warm bed waiting for her inside the cabin. My mind wanders to the room I’m staying in, her laid out naked before
me. Her lovely black-and-white hair splayed across my pillows. Her soft moans as I– No. She wouldn’t go for that. It’s too soon and she doesn’t strike me as one-nighter, or even fuck-buddy, material.

"Wiley might have a bug up his ass, but I want you here." I rub my fingers lightly over her soft cheek. Our breaths mingle in the space between us, looking like smoke from the cold that has crept into the car. My heart pounds in my chest and my throat goes dry. Her mouth looks so incredibly soft.

She wets her lips with the tip of her tongue. "You do?"

God, I want that tongue
. "Yeah, ever since my gig last Friday, I can’t stop thinking about you." My hand glides to the back of her neck and my thumb rubs just under her ear.

She arches her neck. Her gorgeous eyes are gazing at me as if giving silent permission.

I sift my hand into her hair, fisting the silken locks. Her eyes flutter closed and I lean in. Blood races through my veins, and pushes me to take what I want. A tentative brush of my mouth and I’m bathing in the softness of hers. The delicate pants of her warm breath tease me, heating my lip ring as I drag it across her tender flesh.