Naked Edge

by Charli Webb

  Wade’s a nerd, but he’s a good guy with a bright future and no baggage. He’d be perfect for Skylar. I need to back off.

  “So…” Wade rubs the back of his neck. “What about Cherri?”

  “What about her?”

  “You care if I ask her out?”

  “Hell no. Go for it.” I slap him on the back. “You want her number?”

  A sheepish grin spreads across Wade’s face. “She already gave it to me.”

  Chapter Seven

  Skylar

  I slip into a t-shirt and a pair of yoga pants instead of my regular pajamas, which don’t cover nearly enough skin. I’m tempted to put on a little mascara and lip gloss, but Rowdy’s in full paramedic mode. He’s not interested in anything other than my health.

  My heart skips a beat when I find him sitting on my bed. He’s rubbing his eyes so he doesn’t see me. I take the opportunity to study him. He was always attractive, even during those awkward pre-teen years, but he’s absolutely gorgeous now.

  He looks up and smiles at me with the same boyish charm he’s always possessed. It lights up the entire room. “Feeling better?”

  I nod. “Much.”

  He stands up and hands me a white paper bag. “Here’s your prescription.”

  “Where’s the receipt?” I can tell by the two tiny tears near the top that it was stapled to the bag.

  He shrugs.

  “Did you take it or did Wade?”

  “Does it matter?”

  I fold my arms across my chest. “It’s bad enough that I can’t pay for my own meds. I need to know how much money I owe Wade.”

  “Believe me, he’ll never miss it.”

  “I’m not taking a single dose until I have the receipt.”

  Rowdy sighs then pulls it out of his pocket.

  I cringe when I see the amount. I knew it would be expensive without insurance but I had no idea it would be over a hundred dollars.

  “Breathe, Skylar.” Rowdy puts his hands on my shoulders and guides me to the bed.

  “How am I going to afford this every month?”

  “Don’t worry about that right now.” He kneels in front of me and gazes into my eyes. “There’re lots of resources in Boulder County. I’ll help you figure it out. Okay?”

  “Okay.” I hope he’s right. I took a year off after high school to take care of Mom. I’d hate to postpone college for another year, but I will if I have to. If I work full time and save everything I make, after paying for food and rent, maybe I’ll be able to start next spring.

  Rowdy taps the bag with his forefinger. “Now take your meds.”

  “Yes, sir.” I roll my eyes then follow his orders. I always hated inhaling the dry powder even before I knew how expensive it was. I suck it in and hold my breath as long as possible, then cough as I exhale. “I have to go rinse out my mouth.”

  When I return, Rowdy’s sitting on my bed again. I wonder if he has any idea the sort of fantasies that inspires.

  He stands up then pulls down the covers.

  I can’t help the nervous giggle that escapes. “Are you tucking me in?”

  His cheeks flush. It’s absolutely adorable.

  “Get in bed, Skylar.” He’s back in full paramedic mode.

  I try to cover my frustration with sarcasm. “Are you going to read me a story, too?”

  “Do you want me to?” He flashes his panty-dropping, crooked grin.

  “Don’t do that.”

  The smile falls off his face. “Don’t do what?”

  “Use that fake, sexy smile on me.”

  His lips part in the familiar, natural smile that’s always warmed my heart. Unfortunately, it’s warming other parts of me, too.

  “You think my smile’s sexy.”

  Damn. “Not the one you’ve perfected by looking in the mirror. That might work on your bimbos, but it won’t work on me.”

  His face slides into neutral.

  This must be his professional face. The one he uses with regular patients. I don’t like it. I prefer his angry face. The one he uses on ‘stubborn and stupid’ patients, like me.

  “I didn’t realize my smile was offensive. I’ll work on it.”

  I sigh before I can stop myself. “It’s not offensive. It’s just not…you.”

  “Don’t pretend you know who I am.” His voice is quiet but it’s hard and sharp. It cuts me to the bone.

  I roll onto my side, towards the wall. I don’t want him to see how easily, or deeply, he affects me.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” The mattress dips as he sits on the edge of my bed. He gives my shoulder a gentle squeeze then jerks his hand away as if touching me was painful. “I’ll be in Boone’s room if you need me.”

  “I won’t.”

  Chapter Eight

  Rowdy

  Skylar knows damn well that I was referring to her physical health when I said I was here if she needed me. Her ‘I won’t’ response is so full of spite it fills the room with hostility. The bed springs creak when I stand up.

  “Rowdy, wait.”

  I freeze in her doorway, one hand braced against the frame. I should run and never look back. I’ve been with her for less than an hour and already she’s eating through my ironclad defenses like acid. Skylar devastated me last time. I won’t survive if she does it again. I need to leave but my feet are nailed to the floor.

  “Do you remember the first time we kissed?”

  What the fuck? Skylar’s question blasts a hole through my chest, shattering the last of my defenses.

  “Yeah.” As if it were yesterday. I was fourteen, skinny, awkward and terrified. She was thirteen and sporting braces, a lopsided ponytail and a sunburned nose. I remember the feeling of vertigo as I tried to decide whether or not to risk six years of friendship for something more. We’d climbed The Naked Edge earlier that day and it wasn’t nearly as scary as teetering on that precipice of indecision. “What about it?”

  “I think about it a lot.” Her voice is so quiet it’s barely above a whisper, but her words are like a battering ram.

  Why is she bringing up all this old shit? What kind of game is this? I need to get out of here but if I leave without answering her, I might as well hand her my balls. I turn around and face her like a man. “I remember bumping noses, knocking teeth and cutting my mouth on your braces.”

  Her shoulders slump. She drops her gaze to her hands.

  Great. Only a dick would leave after a hateful remark like that.

  “Was it the first time you’d ever kissed anyone?”

  I try to make up for my chicken shit answer with pure truth. “I had all my firsts with you, Sky.”

  She looks up. Her eyes sparkle with unshed tears but she doesn’t look quite as miserable now.

  I tap the tips of my fingers on her wall. Once, twice, then fist my hand to make it stop. “I should leave and let you get some rest.”

  “Please don’t go.” Her voice trembles and it damn near breaks what’s left of my heart.

  “What’s wrong, babe?” Shit. I didn’t mean to call her babe.

  “I miss my mom.”

  She’s been here for less than a day and she’s homesick already? She used to stay here for the whole summer. The only time she cried was when she had to leave me to go back home. “Why don’t you give her a call?”

  “I can’t.” A broken sob rushes out of her chest. “She died.”

  I cross the room in two strides and pull her into my arms. It’s the first time I’ve felt whole since she left. It’s going to hurt like a son of a bitch when she pushes me away. I know this, but I can’t ignore her pain. It would be like driving by an accident and not stopping to help. “Try not to cry. It can trigger another attack.”

  “I know.” Skylar’s hands are trapped between our bodies. She spreads her fingers out over my chest then fists her hands in my shirt. “Just hold me for a second. I’ll be okay.”

  The sane part of my brain screams, What the fuck are you doin
g? Run! The self-destructive rest of me ignores the warning and walks blindly into the fire. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “I want to explain why I disappeared.”

  “Okay.” My voice cracks like a thirteen-year-old boy going through puberty.

  She takes a shuddering breath. “Did you hear about the huge scandal at Pulman, Under and Klept a few years ago?”

  “The biotech company?” I fight the urge to rest my chin on top of her head and release her instead. At least a sliver of self-preservation survived. “They went out of business, right?”

  “The FDA shut them down after one of their miracle drugs was linked to an increase in patient mortality.” Skylar sits on her bed and pats the mattress. “Dennis, my mom’s boyfriend, worked for them.”

  I pretend I didn’t see her invitation and lean against the wall instead. “Was he involved in the scandal?”

  She nods. “He was part of the group that falsified data to keep the human trials open. He testified against everyone else to stay out of jail.”

  “Wow. When did this happen?”

  “I found out about it the night that you and I… The night we…”

  The night we promised to love each other forever? The night I gave myself to you completely, heart, mind, body and soul? The night I foolishly believed you did the same? That night? “The night we had sex?”

  “Yeah.” Skylar takes a trembling breath. “Mom called me right after I’d snuck back inside my bedroom window. She told me to take a taxi to Denver International Airport and come home. But she wouldn’t tell me why.”

  “What are you saying? That you guys went into some sort of witness protection program or something?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Every muscle in my body tightens. I can’t believe she didn’t trust me enough to tell me what happened. “I wouldn’t have told anyone.”

  “I know that. But Mom said anyone I told would be in danger. She told me I couldn’t even tell Uncle Will and Aunt Lori. I wanted to call you, Rowdy. More than anything. But I couldn’t risk your life just to say good-bye.”

  The room spins as the world realigns itself with a new reality. Skylar didn’t desert me. She was trying to protect me. All this time I believed she was hiding from me because I was accused of murdering my own mother.

  Fuck. She doesn’t know what happened. She didn’t even know that Mom was dead until Wade blurted it out. “Did they catch all the bad guys?”

  “They’re all in prison. Well, everyone except for Dennis.”

  “But, you’re safe now, right?”

  “I was never in danger.”

  “Why did you come here?” Skylar spent every summer in Eldorado Springs with Boone’s family, but she lived in San Diego.

  “You know why.” Hope flares in her eyes.

  She looks so young, as if time stopped for her when she disappeared. It sure as hell didn’t stop for me. I feel so fucking old.

  “You shouldn’t have come back.”

  Her chin trembles as tears leak out the corners of her eyes.

  “Skylar…” I hate hurting her but I don’t want her to hurt me either. “It’s been four years. People change.”

  “God, that’s exactly what Boone said.” She leans forward, clutching her pillow even tighter. “What happened to you that night after you went home?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.” My voice trembles. I sound like a child. I feel like one, too. A frightened, needy, abused, vulnerable little kid. And I fucking hate it.

  Chapter Nine

  Skylar

  Rowdy pushes off the wall and starts to pace. He keeps his gaze trained on the floor in front of his feet, for the most part. But every third or fourth step, he looks up and glances at me. I know he’s trying to decide whether or not to tell me about the ‘really bad thing’ that Boone hinted at yesterday.

  Rowdy slides both hands into his hair and tugs. I hate to see him get so worked up, but if I let him off the hook now, I might not get another chance to crack through that tough shell of his. So I wait in silence and let the tension build.

  He stops in the middle of the room and drops his hands. He takes three deep breaths then turns to face me. “Why do you care about my past?”

  “Because I care about you.”

  “I’m surprised you haven’t looked it up online.” He glances at my laptop, sitting open on the desk.

  “I googled your name every day and never found anything online.” Great. If that doesn’t sound like an obsessive stalker, I don’t know what does.

  “I didn’t turn eighteen until after it happened, so they kept my name out of the papers.”

  “Can’t you just tell me about it?”

  “No.” His voice cracks. The color drains from his face. Whatever it was, it must have been huge. His shoulders slump as he exhales. “My mother’s name was Blaire Jones. Not Daletzki.”

  “Oh.” None of us wanted to risk running into Rowdy’s stepdad so we always hung out in the canyon or here at Boone’s house. When I thought of his mom at all, she was just ‘Rowdy’s mom.’

  “You don’t mind if I look up the article?”

  Rowdy presses his lips together. “Good night, Skylar.”

  I don’t want him to leave, but he obviously doesn’t want to stay. And I want to read the article. “Goodnight, Rowdy.”

  Typing the correct information into the search engine makes all the difference. The link to the archived article pops up on the top of the first page.

  Keith Jones, 39, was arrested early Saturday on charges he fatally shot his wife during an argument at the mobile home they shared in the unincorporated town of Marshall, near Eldorado Springs. He remained jailed after being arraigned on criminal homicide and other charges in the Saturday night shooting of 38-year-old Blaire Jones.

  Mrs. Jones’s 17-year-old son was also taken into custody in connection with her death. The minor’s name has not been released due to his age. Police say Mrs. Jones’s son claims he came home from a date and found his intoxicated stepfather pointing a gun at his mother. He claims the gun accidentally discharged while he was trying to wrest it from Mr. Jones.

  Jones claims his stepson was already armed with the weapon when he barged into the bedroom where he and his wife were having a heated discussion and threatened to use the gun on Mr. Jones. He attempted to disarm his stepson who then willfully and purposely fired the weapon.

  Police waited to file the charges because there were no other witnesses and they needed to determine from autopsy and other evidence whether Mr. Jones or his stepson fired the weapon and whether or not it was accidental.

  My vision blurs as tears fill my eyes. This is so much worse than anything I could have imagined. I close the page and erase the search history then shut off my laptop.

  The pipes rattle as the shower starts. Boone was already in his pajamas when we got here so it must be Rowdy. I wait for him in my doorway.

  Steam pours into the hall when he comes out of the bathroom. He’s backlit, wearing nothing but a towel around his narrow hips.

  I run to him without thinking and plaster myself against his damp chest. I bury my face in his shoulder before I have a chance to consider the consequences. “God, Rowdy. I’m so sorry.”

  He pries my arms off his neck. His voice is hoarse. “It’s not your fault.”

  “I know. But I still hate that it happened. And I’m so sorry about your mom.”

  “Stop.” He speaks through clenched teeth. His fingers dig into my wrists as he yanks my hands over my head and pins them to the wall behind me. His pupils dilate, swallowing his irises until they’re nothing but an ice-blue rim.

  A shiver runs from my head all the way down to my toes. My heart thumps against the base of my throat as he leans in. He’s going to kiss me.

  There are at least a hundred reasons for me to stop him, but I can’t seem to think of a single one. I can’t stop trembling either.

&nb
sp; Rowdy presses his forehead against mine and whispers my name. His voice is rough, deep and seductive. “Skylar?”

  “Yes?”

  “Go to bed.” He lets go of my hands and steps back.

  I take a slow, shaky breath, pretending I don’t want to scream. Or cry. Or punch him in the mouth. Or crush my lips against his. Or rip that towel off his body.

  Rowdy turns and strides down the hall to Boone’s room. Every muscle in his back is hard and sharply defined, as if cut from marble.

  Chapter Ten

  Rowdy

  I steal a pair of sweats out of Boone’s bottom drawer then sink onto the spare twin bed. I prop my elbows on my knees and stare at my shaking hands. I can’t believe I almost kissed Skylar. Or how badly I wanted to. I don’t kiss girls. Not anymore. She ruined me in more ways than one.

  There’s a quiet knock at the door. I squint my eyes closed. I don’t want to deal with this right now. Or ever. I don’t want Skylar to see me like this.

  “I hope you’re decent because I’m coming in whether you are or not.” The doorknob turns.

  “Please, don’t.” I stand up, but Skylar’s already through the door before I can take a step.

  She crosses the room and wraps her arms around my waist. Every muscle in my body tenses as she presses her face against my shoulder. Her tears fall on my collarbone then slide down my bare chest.

  “Did you read it?”

  She nods.

  “The part about how I was…involved?”

  “It was an accident.” She slides her hands up to my shoulder blades and leans back to study my face. “It wasn’t your fault.”

  I close my eyes and try to block it out, but it’s too late. Blood roars behind my ears as the darkness descends…

  The blast of the Colt Python stabs my ears. Pain explodes in my wrist and elbow. The hot metal scent of gunpowder stings my nose. A rusty iron taste coats my tongue and invades the back of my throat. A fine, pink mist hangs in the air.