Razor's Edge (Underworld Kings)

He grabbed my hand and I let him. He squeezed it hard and I let him see the loss in my face. I rolled up my sleeves and showed him the loss written on my body in raised white stripes.

“I can’t take the losing, the going, the walking away. I only want forevers. Permanent stays. If not for me, then for my girl. She deserves the permanency. I can’t let you love her if you can’t promise to always stand by her side. If I die tomorrow, I want you and Fox walking her down the aisle—when she pledges her love to someone, when she gives birth to a child, you have to be there, holding her hand. These are the requirements, Calvin, so consider them carefully before you commit. If she gets sick, if she struggles with addiction, if she chooses a profession you hate, if she joins a rival fucking gang—she’s still yours, you still fight with everything you have.”

I was crying now, tears streamed down my face.

Calvin still squeezed my hand like he was holding on for dear life.

“I promise you, Ellison. I know I fucked up in the past. I was wrong—stupid. I thought forcing you to forget was the answer, but now I see how blind I was. I love her, El. I love her with my whole fucking damaged heart. I want to be her dad more than I’ve ever wanted anything.”

“I know you do, Calvin,” I said. I wiped my eyes, but the tears kept rushing.

“I’ll never pressure you, El. Never. I just want to protect her and provide for you guys. Do the duty I didn’t get the chance to before. I want to make it up to you both. I know you don’t care about money, but I won’t let either one of you struggle ever again. I want to be the father I never had,” Calvin’s voice broke.

I pulled him into my arms. I held his head to my chest as emotion wracked his body.

“I know,” I whispered to him. I smoothed back his hair and let him find comfort in my arms.

It felt so good to hold him, so right, so perfect. But we weren’t perfect. We were on the razor’s edge and that’s where our love lived.

Chapter 41

CALVIN

I took them to feed the ducks at the big pond in the park. Just the three of us, a bag of day-old rolls and a sord of Mallard ducks. It was like a regular, wholesome family outing, except throw in a little cutting, a little dysfunction, death, murder, prison, musical genius—and yeah, that was us.

“Dad, after I put up that YouTube video of “Hard Day’s Night,” it got like ten-thousand views and then Fender sent me these free picks in the mail,” Adele said. She showed me a handful of colorfully-swirled Fender picks.

“Way to go, Adele! Next it’ll be guitars, and before you know it, recording contracts!”

“Not so fast, you two. Let’s get through middle school first,” Ellison said.

Ellison had been more than tolerant of me seeing Adele every day. She would text and we’d agree on a time and place, and so far, neither of them had gotten tired of me.

Ellison and I sat on a bench by the water while Adele tossed bread crumbs and ran up and down the edge of the pond.

“She’s got your legs,” El said.

I stifled a laugh. “Wait, because she’s tall or you mean like the shape of them?

“Oh my God, Calvin. You can’t see the Montgomery calves right in front of you? The bottom half of her is Meghan!”

“That chin, though. That pointy, cute little chin is one hundred percent Sheriff Kraft.”

“True, her baby pictures look just like my dad. Her lips are yours though, Cal, through and through.”

She turned to me and I studied her mouth. Her eyes fell to my lips and a jolt of electricity zinged up my spine when I remembered kissing her for the first time in her mother’s kitchen. Savoring those lips, that tongue, those pearly white teeth. Her supple body, budding curves, and the softness of holding her flush against me. Getting lost in El was the most delicious perdition. I spent years recalling those moments in my cell and drowning in the memories of her sweet love.

“Calvin, don’t look at me like that.”

“I don’t know how to look at you any other way, El. I’ve always looked at you this way, because it’s how I see you.”

“Well, stop it.” She smiled at me when she said it.

“I can’t.” I took her hands and she let me. Adele was busy chasing the seagulls away from her ducks. “I only know you this way, as the woman I love. I see the changes, the wonderful mother you’ve become, the resilient hard worker. But that doesn’t make me feel any differently about the other stuff,” I told her resolutely.