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Breanna
THROUGH THE PROPPED-OPEN back door to the Barrel of Fun, the cool autumn breeze rushes through the trees and a waterfall of vibrant leaves falls to the ground. My eyes and lungs burn from the harsh cleaning products infecting the air. The ice cream shop officially closed last night and today I’m making extra cash by preparing it for the winter.
My boss hacks as the bleach in the bucket sloshes over the sides. I prop my mop on the wall and jack my thumb toward the back door. He nods. We both quit talking an hour ago. Either to prevent ourselves from inhaling more poison than we should or because we both lost the ability to speak.
I seriously need to find a new job.
I step outside and the intake of clean oxygen is like a pillow for my lungs. The stray pieces of hair that had escaped the bun stick to my sweaty face and I peel my sweatshirt off my skin in an attempt to cool down. As much as today’s manual labor has been constant, it hasn’t been enough to ease my concern for Razor. I’m not sure anything will ever erase the memory of how he looked so absolutely broken.
My boss coughs again and I head for the thick trees. In the distance, a car honks and a semitruck rumbles past on the road out front. My cell never vibrated in my pocket, but I pull it out anyway, hoping for a message from Razor. But like last night, there’s nothing.
Me: I’ve been thinking of you. I’m here if you need to talk or not talk. Either way, I
Razor and I have never said certain words aloud. We’ve definitely expressed our emotions physically and in the calm silences in between those precious kisses and touches. We’ve also referenced how we feel about each other, but we’ve never fully admitted it.
I bite my bottom lip. In my daydreams as a child, I imagined a guy saying it first, but I care so much about Razor that he needs this—especially since his world has been torn apart.
Me: Either way, I love you.
The edges of my mouth lift when I see the words on the screen. I do love him and it’s not as scary to confess as I thought. In fact, it feels natural.
Razor: I cut out on my bike last night to clear my head. I’m in Tennessee, but I’m heading back now. Straight to you. I want to hear those words out of your mouth.
The smile on my face grows. He’s coming home to me.
Another vibration. Razor: I love you too.
Butterflies. A million gorgeous butterflies. My fingers are flying across the screen and not keeping up with the gazillion thoughts in my head and then my phone is gone.
Gone.
Ripped from my fingers, and when my head snaps up, a hand goes to my throat and my back slams into a tree. The air rushes from my body as two soulless eyes bore into mine. It’s Kyle and he’s gone insane.
Panic floods my system. No air in, no sound out, nothing. Dizzying thoughts overwhelm me as the pressure on my throat nears painful. He’s killing me. Kyle is killing me.
My fingers scramble for my neck, claw at the stranglehold. My feet kick and, with a flick of his arm, pain shoots into my spine as he rams me against the tree again. A flash of black as consciousness is on the verge of being lost and I fight to keep my eyes open.
“Did you and Razor honestly think you could play me?”
White dots mar my vision and my lungs hurt. I crane my neck, desperate for air, and only a pathetic squeak erupts from my mouth as he pushes on my body again.
Kyle leans forward and his breath is hot on my ear. I flinch at the way his mouth moves against my skin. “We found how your boy was hacking us, and for that you are going to pay.”
The pressure on my neck releases, a gasp of air from my body, and I drop to the ground. Coughing, choking, my hands landing where he was crushing my bones.
Kyle paces in front of me. A short loop and his eyes are on me. “The day you asked to work with me instead of against me. You used me. You helped him get into my phone.”
Tears well up in my eyes and I throw my head back to yell, but no sound escapes.
“He has four of us, but not all of us, and you tell that asshole that the one he can’t find, he won’t. He’s the one that figured out we were hacked. He’s the one that noticed we were connecting to a dummy server. I don’t know what the hell Razor was planning on doing, but I’m back in control of this game. I want my damned papers, Breanna. I want the first one on Friday and I expect perfection.”
He crouches in front of me. “And in case you’re wondering how far I’m willing to take this, I left a present for your parents at your home. Manila envelope. Your mom’s and dad’s names on the front. I dropped it off, rang the doorbell, then watched from across the street as your mom answered and picked it up. In case you’re wondering, inside was the photo. Fucking push me again and that photo will be up on Bragger before you can say my name.”
Kyle stands, throws my phone at my feet, then a piece of paper drifts from his hands. It’s the picture of me and Razor and it’s spelling my demise.
* * *
I’ve been banished to my room, but I’m not sure what the consequences will be if I leave. They’ve already told me I’m forbidden to set foot outside the house, forbidden to talk to anyone on the phone, forbidden to do anything more than breathe.
