Razor's Edge (Afflictions) (6 page)

The kid stares at
me, wide-eyed, as if to say, “Help, I don’t want to go back to bed.” He’s not my kid and I can’t tell her what to do with him.

"Mom, it’s dark up there. Please, don’t make me go back to bed."

She sighs. "Ben, you have a night-light."

"But that didn’t keep the bad dreams away," he whines. "Dad was getting pulled down by dark shadow things. There’s dark shadows in my room, Mom. Please..."

Wiley and Bebe glance over from their chair across the room, and Lina, Tryst, and Bryan from the chair next to hers. I want to tell them to fuck off and go about what they were doing. Instead, "I don’t mind if Ben watches. If it’s okay with you, Mom."

Everyone needs to stop staring at them like they just bought tickets for some freak sideshow. The way the kid
described the dream about his dad, I can relate. Nightmares plagued me for years after I found my Dad, and the shadows still haunt me to this day.

There’s that shocked face again, the one that I like to see because I put it there. I smile and her look fades into a frown, but she can’t hide her relief. There is a happiness in her eyes that wraps me in satisfaction.

She cocks her head and stares as though she’s trying to figure me out. "All right, Ben. Go get your chair." Watching her son cross the room, it isn't until he's out of ear shot that she looks back to me. "Are you sure you don’t mind?"

"He had a nightmare." I shrug. "As long as he doesn’t bump your arm and mess up my
tatt, I think it’ll be fine."

She puts on a new pair of gloves and switches out the needle. "Normally, he doesn’t wake up when I put him to bed. But..."

"But what?"

She shakes her head.

Ben pulls up a small chair and sits on my left side, away from his mom and the needle. "You picked the right lady to do your tatt." He glances up at me. "Mom’s the best."

Shay wipes my skin. "Ben, don’t bother Morgan."

Ben hangs his head.

I feel bad for the kid. He just needs some attention to distract him from the nightmare he had. "It’s okay. Why is she the best?"

Ben’s eyes are as bright as stars, like he can’t wait to tell me how wonderful his mom is. "You see this here?" He points to some of the raised skin on my music-note tattoo. “They’re scars. Mom doesn’t leave bumps because she doesn’t tear the skin."

"Great to know. Thanks." I glance at Shay and grin. "I’ll be sure to have her do my
tatts from now on."

Shay half smiles at me, then goes back to concentrating on her work. Her brows are pulled together
and every once in a while she’ll stick the tip of her tongue out the side of her lips. I’d do anything to take that tongue into my mouth and see what she tastes like.

"Good, because this person didn’t know what they were doing." Ben rolls his eyes. He’s drawing something, but I can’t see it from my angle. If I move, I’ll mess up Shay’s art.

"You like to draw?"

Excitement lights his face. "I love it. Ms. Domingo says I’m the best in the class. I have to be the best, because I’m going to do
tatts like my Mom when I grow up."

"You want to be a tattoo artist?"

"Yeah, I do! I’ve even used a tattoo gun before. Mom has three done by me."

"I helped him hold the gun," Shay whispers so low Ben can’t hear it.

"Well, apparently, he’s learning from the best."

She shakes her head and wipes my skin and gives me a coy smile. Her cheeks are rosy as she looks down and continues.

Guess I don’t need the ganja to deliver smooth lines.

"Can I tattoo you, Morgan?"

Now I see what Tryst was talking about, why he felt the need to have an excuse to leave. Because with Ben’s excitement, it’s hard to say no to that one without a good reason.

"Ben." Shay wipes my skin and scowls at him. "What have I said about
ganking my clients?"

"Sorry, Mom."

Gotta give the woman points for that save.

She sprays me with some solution and wipes me down. Smooth but firm, and holds the mirror up against my chest so I can see her outline. Well, what do you know? The kid’s not blinded by love. Shay did a great job.

"The next part is up to you." She takes the needle she outlined with out of her gun. "We can finish the color tonight, which will take another hour and a half. Or you could come back in a week or two depending on your scabs and we can finish the color then. I only ask because we are an hour and fifteen minutes in and you might need a break."

It was that long? No way. Sure enough, the clock on the wall reads two in the morning.

"I’ll be done with Wiley in fifteen." Bebe doesn’t even glance up from her chair.

Lina, Bryan and Tryst are already gone and his station is dark. Those fuckers didn’t even say they were out.

On one hand, I don’t want to leave. I enjoyed my time with Shay and Ben. The burning sting from her gun hardly phased me. But it’s late, and the kid needs to go to back to bed. "Yeah, I’m ready to call it a night."

"Aww..." Ben whines from beside me. "I was almost done with my picture. You
coulda strung it out some more."

I laugh. It’s hard not to. The kid’s too damn cute. "Why don’t you finish it the next time your mom works on me? You can sit and talk to me some more."

Ben nods. "Okay. But you have to come tuck me in."

Whoa.
I snap my head back.
What do I say to that?

Shay's cheeks are red. "Ben, go kiss your aunt
Bebe good night. And don’t–"

"I know, Mom. Startle her or bump the gun." He jumps up and runs to
Bebe.

Shay turns off her machine and dresses my wound. "Sorry, about that. He gets a little carried away sometimes, especially when guys pay him attention. His father isn’t around so—" Her cheeks brighten again.

Damn. “So…your boyfriend ignores him then?”

“I don’t have one.” She takes a deep breath and tosses her ink caps in the garbage.

Score.
I smile. "He’s a great kid.”

She smiles back at me and hands me my shirt. "Let’s ring you up."

Following her to the counter, I shrug on my shirt as I go. "For the record, I really did just have to pee earlier."

She blushes again. "It’s one-sixty now and one-twenty when you come back."

"I’ll just give you the two-eighty up front." I hand her my credit card.

She swipes it and we wait for the receipt to print out.

"You gotta come see my Nightmare Before Christmas bed." Ben’s in front of me, eyes wild with excitement. "It rocks!"

"Ben." The tone in Shay’s voice is all warning and he ducks his head.

It’s not the kid’s fault. He thinks he’s made a new friend and wants to show off his things. But I know where Shay’s coming from. A man she just met and hasn’t had a decent convo with is not the man who she should let into her apartment, much less let tuck her kid into bed. Ben doesn’t understand that though. It’s cool the kid likes me that much, but I know it’d be crossing the line and maybe make me look a little creepy to her.

I bend down so that I’m on his level. "Wicked cool slippers you have there, little guy."

"I’m not little." He stares straight at me. "I’m a man."

I chuckle.

He laughs. "But yeah, they’re my favorite."

Yawning, I don’t have to pretend for dramatic effect. "I would love to see all the cool stuff you have, but I’m
kinda tired from the tatt. I need to go home. Maybe when I come back? If that’s all right with your mom."

I eye her up. Her arms are across her chest showing off her perfect breasts. She cocks a brow and bites her lip. Yeah, I’m definitely going to make sure I take her out before our next session.

Ripping the receipt from the machine, she hands it over with a pen. "Ben, go put your chair back where it belongs. I don’t want your uncle Tryst tripping over it when he comes in. You know how clumsy he is."

Ben giggles. "Uncle Tryst is really funny."

"I bet he is." Actually, this is news to me. Tryst doesn’t strike me as a guy who acts goofy for a kid’s benefit.

"Goodnight, Morgan." The kid hugs me.

Awkward.
Not because he’s a kid. I have a niece who’s a little older than him that I help take care of all the time. But his mother Shay looks really embarrassed that her son has hugged a perfect stranger. I need to have a talk with this kid about the dangers of people he doesn’t know, maybe with our next session. I hug him anyway. I don’t want to hurt the kid’s feelings. "You be good for your mom and go put the chair away. And if she tells me you were good, I’ll think about letting you tatt my ankle."

"Yay!" He bounces up and down. Shay’s going to have a fun time putting him to bed. "Night, Morgan."

I rub his mop of black hair. "Night, kiddo."

Shay watches him cross the room as she hands me my slip to sign. "I appreciate you being nice to Ben. But you don’t really have to let him
tatt your ankle."

"Doesn’t bother me. Think of me as practice for him." I laugh.

She’s not laughing. Shit. Did I cross the line? The scowl on her face says I did.

“
Tatts should tell your story. The way I look at it, his tatt will remind me of a great kid and the night I got to spend with his amazing mother."

Her jaw drops. There’s that face again, the one I like to see.

Taking one of her business cards from the stand, I smile at her, wink, and head for the front door. Surprisingly enough, my nerves are gone. I didn’t need ganja to get me through this. I did just fine on my own.

             
Seven

Shay

The
snow is falling fast outside my windshield. They’re calling for a blizzard and asking people to stock up on supplies. I hate the winter and the snow, but Ben loves it. School will probably be canceled tomorrow as it was today, and I can already hear his scream of excitement in my head. It does nothing to chase away the dread I am feeling as I navigate the winter-washed road.

I should be happy that they postponed the hearing. It means he’ll be in prison until his next one. Great, there goes another two weeks of having to worry about him being released to the public. Free to come back into my life again and destroy it. They lost some of the paperwork and his lawyer couldn’t be there. I’m sure Gary is stewing with anger in his cell. That should give me some relief. It doesn’t.

My phone rings.

Glancing down, it’s Tryst. "Yeah."

"Hey, Shay. Are you keeping the shop closed for a couple of days?"

"Yeah, I am." I give him a sarcastic laugh.
Like anybody is going to want to get a tatt in this kind of weather.

"Good. We decided to stay longer."

Yesterday Tryst went snowboarding with Morgan and Wiley. He said Wiley’s dad had a cabin and they were only going for a night. It’s a chance for them to bond before they go on tour. I think it was Tryst’s way of feeling his new friends out, making sure they aren’t the kind of band members who party with drugs. He, like me, keeps drug addicts at a distance. Yeah, it sounds judgmental, but we really aren’t. We just don’t want Ben around that.

"You must be having a good time then."

"Yeah, they’re actually pretty cool."

"Okay, have fun."

"Keep an eye on Bebe will, ya? She’s stubborn and will drive in anything."

I keep my mouth shut about being on the road. He’d flip if he knew I was driving in this shit. Since we live in the ghetto, I never let Ben play outside. He was so depressed about not being able to go out in the snow, I solved that problem by taking him to a sled hill I used to go to as a kid. It’s about fifteen minutes from the ski lodge Tryst is at. We had a blast all day and now I want nothing more than to get home before the blizzard hits.

"Gotcha. Bebe, no driving."
Why does he care about Bebe’s safety?
"What’s going on between you and her?"

"Oh, I got to go. The guys are yelling at me. See
ya Thursday." He hangs up.

"Mom." Ben smiles at me through the rearview mirror. "Can you put on Avenged
Sevenfold?"

Smiling because my son likes the music I love, I put on
Afterlife
then carefully turn onto the long country road that will take us to the freeway. M. Shadows’ scream fills the car and Ben sings along with the lyrics. He knows this song by heart. Would he be as enthusiastic if it were Morgan’s band I was listening to?
Need to see if Tryst can get me a demo CD.
It’d be nice to have his voice in the car on a long drive.

And…there I go again. My mind wanders to a tall, sexy man with ice-blue eyes. I can’t get Morgan off the brain. Him on stage, singing as though he was always meant to be there. The look he gave me. I shudder, remembering his stare. It wasn’t meant for me, but for the crowd.

Still, I can’t stop the visions from Saturday night at my shop. They blast on repeat. The way he was toward Ben, all accepting of him. He’s great with kids, but that could’ve been a front. If I were a different person, if I didn’t have a kid to worry about, I might try to hook up with him. But Ben’s feelings are more important to me than some one-night fling with a sweet, sexy guy. 

"Mom, look out!"

I jerk the wheel to avoid a huge buck. The tires skid on the icy road. Heart in my throat, I grip the wheel. “Hang on, Duders.”

I try to gain some semblance of control. Ben is screaming in the back. A cloud of white blankets my windshield. Panic and the sheer fear for my son’s life catapult my lungs from my chest.

Boom!

Morgan

The road ahead of me is dark. Snowflakes hit my window so fast the wipers could blow a gasket trying to keep up. Tryst and Wiley talk away as I stare at the winter blanket in front of me. Squinting, I try to make out where the road and snow banks meet. Damn, I can’t see more than five feet in front of me.

Tryst leans over and turns up the volume on the radio.

Even though it’s one of my favorite bands my concentration doesn’t need the blare of Slipknot, so I move to turn it down, but pause as the angry screaming cuts off. It’s followed by emergency beeps, then the recording of the emergency broadcaster. "A state of emergency has been issued for the following counties..." I listen to the long list and ours pops up at the end.

The DJ’s voice cuts back in. "If you’re driving, we advise you to get off the road. It’s really coming down out there, guys. Get to your destinations swiftly, but safely."

The music cuts back in and I turn down the radio. I need to pay attention to the road.

"Hey, man." Tryst goes for the volume. "I like Psychosocial."

"I need to concentrate." My voice is harsher than I intended. Not being able to spark up a blunt is only adding to my frustration. I’m not only worried about my life, but Wiley’s and Tryst’s, too. God, I hate Michigan. It’s January and last week it was fifty out, but tonight we have Mr. Winter breathing icy vengeance.

Tryst doesn’t say anything, just reclines his seat.

In the back, Wiley’s drumming his fingers on the window.
Fucking drummers
. Wiley has an ADHD complex as big as Canada. His tapping is annoying the crap out of me.

Red taillights flare from the side of the road. I look for a second, but keep my eyes on course. My stomach sinks. That bad feeling I got snowboarding on the mountain is back.

Tryst turns around, staring back at the car that banked itself on the side of the road.

Now Wiley’s looking, too. "Aren’t you
gonna stop? They might need help."

"They
shoulda driven slower." I know it’s a harsh thing to say, not very “good Samaritan” of me, but why would I stop? It’s been a damn epidemic around here—people pretending to be in trouble. When you pull over to help them, they jack your ass. Yeah, I’m not in the mood for being shot and robbed.

Wiley shakes his head. "We can’t just leave them. You’re being an asshole."

Guess I’m an ass then. "Remember I-96 and Gloster? I know you heard about that jacking."

"Seriously?" Tryst looks back again and so do I. Red taillights are no longer there, eaten up by the distance, dark and falling snow. "It’s really coming down and there’s a State of Emergency on the roads. I highly doubt someone
purposely ran into a snow bank in hopes someone worth robbing would stop."

Tryst’s right. Still, there is this overwhelming sense of dread, and I just want to get to the cabin.

"Morg, turn around, man." Wiley leans in between the seats. "Tryst is right. They might need our help. You have a fucking Hummer, dude."

"No." I try to tune him out and concentrate on the road in front of me. The further I get away from the wrecked car, the worse my bad inkling gets. It raises my irritation to new heights.
Try to keep it cool, man.
Yeah, like telling myself that is going to help.
I wish I had my fucking pot.

"Think about it, man. I didn’t see anyone waving, did you? What if they’re hurt? Do you want a replay of what happened twenty-three years ago? If you had come into that bathroom five minutes before–"

I slam on the brakes and Wiley jerks forward into the center console. The Hummer fish-tails back and forth a couple of times then skids to a stop. It was an asshole move on my part. I could’ve killed all three of us, but my rage is flaring and I couldn’t care less about my knee-jerk reaction.

"You have no fucking right to bring that up!" Guilt slams into my psyche. My mind’s going through lost memories of the day I found my Dad. He’d only been dead for five minutes. If Logan and I had come home on time we could have helped him. Wiley knows how much this point in my past trips me out. He’s a dickhead for throwing it in my face. I turn in my seat and glare at him.

Tryst is white knuckling the oh-shit handles and looking back and forth between me and Wiley. Like he expects us to smash each other’s faces in over the seats.

Wiley scoots further back into his seat like he expects me to launch myself at him. "Calm down. I didn’t mean–"

"Yeah, you fucking did." I jab my finger in Wiley’s face. The rage inside me trembles with an urge to hit him. He’s lucky I’m still caged in by my seat belt. "You know just how bad a place I go to when I think about that shit."

"Sorry, I’m just
sayin." Wiley holds up his hands. "What if it was Logan and Dani in that car?"

"My brother knows how to drive in the snow." Wiley’s right. I have to turn around. Taking a deep breath, I turn back in my seat and put the Hummer in gear. After busting a U-
ey, it doesn’t take long for red taillights to come back into view. Slowing the Hummer, I can now see what kind of – "Is that a Probe? I didn’t think they made those cars anymore."

“Fuck!” Tryst unbuckles his seat belt. "That’s Shay’s car!"

Every horrible feeling that I’ve had, from the time we left for the cabin until now, flips upside-down. Fear for a woman and little boy I hardly know has my heart in a gymnastics meet. The urge to call her was so strong, and I ignored it. Why don’t I ever listen to what my gut tells me? Adrenaline shoots through me, chasing the worry away, and propels me into action. I back my Hummer up to her car. She’s going to need to be pulled from the snow. But before I stop, Tryst’s flying out the door.
I want to be the one rushing to her rescue.

Throwing it in park, I dart out the door. My ass only gets about two inches of air time and hits the seat again.
Fucking seat belt.
Shay on the brain and I forget everything else. I fumble with the confines of my shackles and finally get it off. As I’m climbing down, she rounds my bumper.

My heart jumps in my chest. I sigh.
She’s okay.

Her face glows red with the light from my Hummer’s taillights. Even through the thick flakes swirling around her, I notice there’s no blood and from what I can tell, no visible injuries. My sex angel is safe. A rush of warmth floods my system, leaving my body drunk from the adrenalin high.

"Are you okay?” I touch the soft skin of her face and check for any visible bruising. There’s none. Thank God. Black and blue is not a color she should ever wear on her face. “Where’s Ben? Was he with you?"

"I’m fine. He’s okay, too. He’s playing his DS." She walks up to my back passenger side door and opens it. "Wiley, Tryst says you have a satellite phone. Can I use it? Mine has no reception."

Shouldn’t she be more worried? She was just in a car accident. Maybe she’s in shock, or maybe I’m just over reacting. All she did was hit a snowbank.
Why am I feeling like this? I hardly know her.
I cringe at my behavior before. What if I’d kept on driving? Left her out here in the middle of butt-fucking-Siberia? Wiley’s right. I’m a complete asshole.

"Yeah, but come in before all the snow piles on the seat." Wiley makes room, and she climbs right in.

Wiley has a huge grin on his face, and makes no move to exit my Hummer. I’ve seen that look in his eyes before. He’s shopping for a Monday night special, and Shay’s rare meat—tough, but tender.

I slam the door, letting off some steam, but not enough to cool my engine. In all fairness, Wiley doesn’t know that I want her, but that doesn’t stop my overwhelming urge to rip his dick off and feed it to him. When did I suddenly become that asshole? The one who wants to fight his best bud over a girl?

I need a blunt right now! Stupid fucking bet.
Bryan and his luck. I should’ve known better than to play his game. He is a gambling man and has tons of experience.

Trekking through the snow, I head to the front of Shay’s car.
The wind has died down now and the snow is falling slowly.

The passenger-side door flies open, it comes centimeters from creaming me in the nuts. Ben knocks into my side and I stumble to keep my footing. Looking down, I see his red Lightening McQueen ski-mask.

"Morgan!" Ben looks up at me, and steps back. "You shoulda seen it! A huge deer ran out in front of Mom’s car and she swerved," he does the hand motions of driving a car, "and…BOOM! It was so much fun." He laughs.

The kid’s excitement over the accident does nothing to alleviate my nerves. If anything, it cranks them higher. That crash could have taken a deadly turn. If she hit a deer in that tight little car, instead of swerving, the thing would have gone through the windshield and plowed into her and Ben.
Definitely toke-a-smoke time.

"You’re okay, right?" Pulling off his ski-mask, I crouch down and search for bruises.

"I’m fine. My seat belt saved me."

Tryst comes around the vehicle. "The front is smashed. I cleared some of the snow away. Looks like she went through the bank and hit the guard rail." He glances back at her Probe then looks back to me. "No use pulling this out. She’s
gonna need a body shop."