Razor's Edge (Underworld Kings)

I closed my eyes and let the cool air flow over me as he sped away down the dark highway toward South Vale.

“I’ll drop you off at home,” Calvin said. He hadn’t spoken since we’d peeled out of the parking lot of The Emporium.

“Good luck with that, cause you don’t know where I live,” I snapped back.

“You’re not at your parents’ place?” he asked with a bit more humility.

“Not since they sold it and moved away, no.” I told him

“Ellison,” he said more softly. “Please, give me your address. I’m sorry.”

“Oh, you’re sorry now, huh. For the first time you ruined my life, or the second time? I used to have an income, but after that stunt you pulled back there I’m not so sure anymore.”

Calvin pulled the bike over to the side of the road. He turned to me and searched my face, his eyes haunted with a million un-exchanged apologies.

“I never meant to hurt you,” he said, his voice hoarse with emotion.

“Well, too late for that,” I told him, crossing my arms.

His focus momentarily shifted from my eyes to my arms and he took in my scars with a look of horror on his face.

“Oh, spare me,” I spat.

“Just tell me where you live, and I’ll take you home.”

“I’m not giving you my address,” I scoffed. I wasn’t giving this man an inch, because he didn’t deserve it.

“Fine, then I’ll take you home with me. I’m sure Fox would love to see you and of course my mom, too.”

“Absolutely not. I hate to break it to you, Calvin, but Fox is at my house and your mom moved to Florida to live with your Aunt Cynthia two years ago.”

He sat there under the streetlight trying to absorb my words. He went pale like he’d seen a ghost and I became almost overwhelmed with the need to hug him and comfort him somehow. But I couldn’t let myself do that, not after what he’d done to me.

“What’s Fox doing at your house?” he said. It was almost too much for him.

“You’re going in the wrong direction. I live in Desolation, not South Vale anymore.”

“You live in Desolation?” he asked me. It was like watching him unravel, all of the building blocks of his neatly constructed fantasy, that I’d be okay, that I’d still be living with my parents flouncing around in flowered dresses, or that Fox could wait on me hand and foot until Calvin came out of prison. All of that went down the drain right before his eyes, and Calvin didn’t look like he could swallow the truth—that he’d been gone ten years and nothing—absolutely nothing was the same as when he’d left us.

“Tell me where to go,” he said as he finally resigned.

Chapter 34

CALVIN

Life as I’d known it, well that ship had sailed. I didn’t know what I expected when I walked free, but this wasn’t it. Ellison gave me instructions on how to get to her apartment complex. Part of me didn’t want to let her spend a single night in Desolation, and the other part of me had no idea how long she’d been spending every night there, and thus no right to have any say on where she rested her head.

“So, do you live alone?” I asked through the wind that slammed into us.

“I’m not answering any of your questions. All of those times I sat in the intake at DesMax like an idiot and you refused to see me, back then is when you gave up your right to ask questions about me and my life, Calvin.”

She was right. I’d broken her heart and rejected her time and time again. I thought it was in her best interest, thought I was doing the right thing, but now I wasn’t so sure.

“I haven’t been to a restaurant in ten years, El. Can I take you to get something to eat?”

She was quiet, but I recognized this kind of Ellison silence. It meant she was considering it.

“Is Baker’s Diner still around? Where we used to get Malts?”

She was still quiet. The silent treatment was good in this case, a rejection from Ellison came right away. She didn’t pause when she was going to shoot you down.

“I am hungry,” she said.

“Say no more.”

I took a left at the stoplight and turned onto Clearview. Ellison’s body was relaxed on my bike, like in the ten years since I’d seen her, she’d gotten used to riding them. I had a million questions pulsating through my head, but I didn’t dare ask her any of them, because nothing was worth throwing us off course again.

A petite waitress looked us up and down with scrutiny as we approached the podium.

“Booth for two,” I asked easily. “Far back right if it’s available.”

We had a special spot here. The scent of burgers and fries, the unchanged decor, down to the old broad behind the counter with one hand on her hip and the other holding a coffee pot, remained completely the same. If the diner could hold out all of these years, maybe others things would, too. I didn’t know how many surprises I could take.