Razor's Edge: A Bad Boy Romance (Bad Boys of Football Book 2)

by Clementine Roux

  “And the Oscar goes to…” I had to laugh. Who knows; perhaps one day, I’d actually be accepting an award.

  Seeing Hillary all dressed up and grinning from ear to ear, eased my mind. That was a good start. All I had to do was keep her smiling and keep the conversation flowing. Women loved that stuff. I suspected she wasn’t any different from most.

  As I pulled up in front of the restaurant, I was pleased to see the members of the press were exactly where I’d expected them to be. This was turning out to be quite the night.

  Hillary’s breath caught as she took notice of them. “How did they know you were going to be here?”

  I lied. It was the only thing I could do. “I don’t know. Maybe they’re here for someone else.”

  I was practically salivating with excitement as we stepped out of the car. Here we go! I laid the groundwork for a barrage of questions about my new girlfriend. Soon, my ex-wife and her attorneys would get wind of the new woman in my life and I’d be one huge step closer to keeping my son.

  Let the games begin.

  “Razor, who is the new woman? Another exotic dancer?”

  “Isn’t this the same woman who was at your home the other evening?”

  Hillary’s whole demeanor changed.

  I tried to deflect the stupid questions, then, a bolder question ruined everything.

  “Is it true you’re only dating a black woman to get back at your ex for sleeping with your teammates?” A reporter asked right before I shoved him to the ground and smashed his head on the sidewalk. Everything after that was a blur. I think, I saw Hillary standing nearby, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t stop myself. I couldn’t think straight.

  By the time someone managed to pull me away from the bleeding reporter, Hillary was nowhere in sight. I’d ruined everything. I knew it. There were too many witnesses. Cameras were everywhere capturing every brutal moment.

  As the bloodied reporter scrambled to his feet, his words hit home for me. “You can kiss your son goodbye now, asshole.”

  Chapter Seven – Hillary

  “Good morning, Ms. Jackson,” Edge said, offering a tentative smile. “I have to tell you something.”

  I could only imagine what it is he had to tell me. The past two weeks he’d been especially nice. It made me wonder what he’d been told at home. I’d managed to avoid speaking to him about it thus far, but now that he was addressing me directly, I feared my luck had run out.

  I swallowed my apprehension. “Oh, you do? Well, how about you hold onto the thought for now and we’ll talk about it on recess? I’m the recess teacher today.”

  Edge looked at me as if trying to decide if I was sincere or simply trying to avoid speaking to him. After a moment, he shrugged it off. “No, not on recess. It’s my turn to be team captain. We’re going to play football on recess.”

  Thank God for football!

  “Maybe you can tell me later then. Football is very important. I bet you’re very good at it, aren’t you?” I asked, relieved he had something much more important to do than relay whatever message it was he had to relay.

  “I’m better than my dad. He tells me all the time.” Edge poked his chest out. “How come you and my dad aren’t friends anymore?”

  Ouch!

  Beads of sweat started to moisten the back of my neck. “Um... well… I don’t know why you think that. We are friends,” I answered.

  “Then, how come he has new friends now? They are silly. All they do is laugh like silly butts and have pillow fights all night long. Now, I can’t sleep. They’re killing me!” Edge complained.

  I don’t know how long I stood there while he continued asking me questions, but it was long enough for some of the students to leave my classroom in search of help from the office.

  “Mrs. Jackson!” Principal Cantor’s voice shook me out of my stupor. “What is going on here? What has gotten into you?”

  I blinked wildly. “What? Um… nothing,” I answered, confused as to how it was, he’d gotten into my room without me noticing.

  Felicia rushed in behind him. “What’s wrong? Are you okay, Hillary?” She grabbed my arm. “What is going on with you, toots?” She tugged my arm.

  Pulling my arm from her grip, I tried to play it off like nothing was the matter. “I’m fine. We were getting ready for calendar time. What are you doing here?”

  She mumbled under her breath. “Girl, you were acting crazy, like you saw a ghost. You better pull yourself together before Cantor tries to fire your ass.”

  The way Principal Cantor was looking at me, I knew I had to get it together fast. My first few weeks on the job weren’t going well at all. The way it looked; I’d probably be out of a job soon.

  “I’m okay. I think, I have a migraine. That’s all,” I lied. As far as I knew, I’d never had a migraine in my life, but it was the only thing I could think of on such short notice. It was either that or tell him the truth -- hearing Edge say his father had been having “pillow fights” with other women, hit me like a batarang punch to the gut.

  Principal Cantor must have been in a good mood because he didn’t balk at my response. “Okay, well, if things are okay, I’ll get back to work. I don’t have time for nonsense.” He walked out, leaving us to restore order in the classroom.

  Felicia gathered the children for story time while I tried to come back to my senses. What was wrong with me? Why was I so bothered by what Razor did with other women? It’s not like he and I were officially dating or anything.

  “Do you mind telling me what in the world happened?” Felicia asked as she waited for the children to settle in their spots.

  I shook my head. “Nothing. Like I said, I had a migraine.”

  “Liar,” Felicia muttered.

  A chant of “Liar! Liar! Pants on fire” started around the room.

  “That’s not very nice.” I narrowed my eyes at Felicia to warn her not to say anything in front of the children. “Would you like to have lunch in here with me today?”

  Felicia nodded. “You bet I do. I can’t wait to hear all about your migraine. You might also want to check your heart. I hear, Baller-itis is going around.”

  Leave it to her to make some kind of comment about being in love with E.J. She’d been making silly remarks since the night I showed up at her doorstep crying.

  “If you’re alright here, I need to get back to my desk,” Felicia said.

  I mouthed a thank you to her and squeezed in between the children to join their story time. “What are we reading?” I asked the children.

  Edge spoke above the other children’s voices. “Ms. Jackson is going to marry my dad!”

  Oh, hell no! What was he trying to do to me?

  I forced a smile on my face. “It’s not nice to make up stories, Edge,” I said through gritted teeth.

  Principal Cantor’s voice over the intercom interrupted us. “Mrs. Jackson, report to the office. Mrs. Jackson, report to the office.”

  I threw my head back. “Are you kidding me?”

  From the hallway, Felicia called out. “I’ll watch them; you go. He sounds mad.”

  “What else is new?” I mumbled. Clapping my hands, I left the kids with instructions, I’m sure none of them would follow and walked out of the room, shaking my head at Felicia. “Why did I accept this job again?”

  Felicia laughed. “Because being cute won’t pay your bills.”

  Any other time, I would have laughed at her remark, but right now, all I wanted to do was go home and start the day over again. As I got closer to the office, I could hear Principal Cantor’s voice. Surprisingly, he didn’t sound angry. Maybe I wasn’t in trouble after all. Then, I heard the other voice.

  The officers turned to face me as I entered the office.

  “Mrs. Jackson?” One of them asked me.

  Like the coward he was, Principal Cantor gave me up. “Yes, that’s her. She’s the one I told you about.”

  “The one what? What are you talking about? Am I in some kind of trou
ble?” I asked, my heart racing out of my chest.

  One of the officers smiled at me. “No, you’re not in trouble. We need to talk to you. Do you have a minute?” he asked like he hadn’t interrupted me in the middle of the school day.

  “Not really, but what is this about?” I asked. Something about having police speaking to me, made me weak, and not in a good way. I’d never been in trouble with the law and wasn’t trying to get into any trouble with them now.

  The officers introduced themselves, assuring me everything was fine, but it didn’t matter what they said, things were clearly not okay, if they made a trip to the school to see me. They were here for a reason. I hoped the reason wouldn’t land me in a jail cell. I wouldn’t do well in prison. As Felicia would say, I was too cute for jail. I mean, not to toot my own horn, but in some circles I was a looker. At least, that’s what my husband always told me. He always made a big deal about me being anywhere near other men. He was a worrier. I’m sure, if he could see me now, he’d be beside himself about what was going on in my life.

  I took a seat in Principal Cantor’s office and waited for them to give me the devastating news. The last time I was approached by police officers was when Sam was found. It was a nightmare. This wasn’t helping me. This brought it all back to me.

  “There’s been a complaint made against someone you know,” the officer said.

  I focused on his name tag as he continued.

  “What is your relationship with Edgecott Razor?” Officer Taylor asked.

  That was easy to answer. “We’re not in a relationship. His son is in my class.”

  Officer Taylor shifted in his seat, moving his chair closer to me. “Okay, then, tell me about your friend.”

  I shrugged, still not understanding what he wanted me to say. “He’s a football player. He plays for--” I started.

  “We know who he plays for. Everyone knows that. He’s The Arm. He’s famous,” Officer Taylor said as his partner, Officer Green nodded in agreement. “What I’m asking you is for you to tell us about the night you went out with Mr. Razor.” He sneered.

  I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat. How did they know we’d had dinner together? That dinner happened weeks ago.

  “I don’t understand. Has something happened to him? Is E.J. in trouble?” I asked.

  He looked at me like I was dense. “I thought I mentioned this already, but I’ll say it again; there’s been a complaint made against your… ahem… friend.”

  Friend? Is that what E.J. was to me? I didn’t know what to call him other than the man I was currently avoiding.

  “What sort of complaint? Do you mean charges? Someone filed charges against him? Was it the reporter?” I probably shouldn’t have been asking so many questions. They were here to interview me. I guess my nerves were getting the best of me because I sounded like I was in a panic. I was, but I didn’t want them to know that.

  “Mrs. Jackson, why don’t you tell us what happened after Mr. Razor picked you up?” Officer Taylor asked.

  I thought back to that night. “Nothing really until we got to the restaurant. Reporters were everywhere,” I said, thinking back.

  “Before you got to the restaurant, Mrs. Jackson?” the other officer asked.

  “Ms. Jackson,” I corrected him. “My husband is dead.”

  Both officers sat up straighter in their chairs.

  I explained. “My husband died last year. I’m Ms. Jackson now. I think.” My voice started to shake as I said it. It felt like I was denying my husband, and for what reason? Was it going to change my situation?

  Officer Taylor apologized. “I’m sorry to hear that. Okay, I’ll call you Ms. Jackson. Now, if you will, tell us everything you can remember. What time did he pick you up? Did he use one of his drivers? Where did you go? Did you make any stops on the way?”

  This didn’t make any sense. “I thought you wanted to know about the reporter?” I asked.

  Clearing his throat, Officer Taylor pulled his chair closer to mine. “Let’s try this; why did you stop at Mrs. Razor’s home? Did E.J. explain why to you?”

  “What? We never stopped anywhere. We were on a date. Why would we go to his ex-wife’s house?” I had no idea what they were talking about. “Who said anything about his ex-wife?”

  The other officer stood up and walked over to lean on the desk in front of me. “Ms. Jackson, did Mr. Razor tell you why he was angry with his ex-wife? Did he say anything to you about why he needed to see her that night?”

  I stood up, my hands trembling. “We never went to his ex-wife’s house. He never said anything about her to me? I don’t understand what’s going on here. We went to dinner. There were reporters there. One of them said something crude and E.J.--” I stopped myself before I said something that would get E.J. in more trouble than he was already in.

  The officers exchanged glances.

  “I swear; we didn’t go anywhere near her. Did she say we did?” I asked, curious to know what they thought E.J. had done.

  There was a knock on the door. We all turned as the door opened. Principal Cantor stood in the doorway flanked by three men in suits. “These men are attorneys. They said they are Mrs. Jackson’s attorneys.”

  What? I didn’t have attorneys. I didn’t know those men.

  Before I could protest, one of the men spoke. “We are attorneys representing Ms. Jackson. What is our client being questioned about?”

  The two officers glanced at each other again, anger in their eyes. Officer Taylor explained they were there to question me about a complaint made by E.J.’s ex-wife.

  The attorneys grinned in unison, motioning for me to stand up and follow them.

  “This interview is over. Come with us, Ms. Jackson,” one said.

  “Why? I don’t understand what’s going on. I don’t have attorneys,” I tried to explain, but one of the attorneys grabbed my elbow and led me out. When we were a safe distance away, he released my arm and said, “We were hired by Mr. Razor. He thought you might need help and, by the looks of it, I think he was right. Now, let’s gather your things and you can leave with us. Mr. Razor will meet you at our office.”

  Chapter Eight – Razor

  I knew she’d look good and hot when I got here, but I never thought the heat would be from anger and not from the incredible body she walked around with. Even as angry as she was, she was so unbelievably sexy. As much as I loved that about her, I didn’t want to hear her scream at me unless she was screaming my name in bed or wherever it was we happened to be at the time.

  “Are you listening to me? It sure doesn’t seem like you are. Hello?” Hillary’s voice shook from the strain.

  “Yes, I’m listening. I think, I hear your hips calling me,” I said, licking my lips with anticipation. Someday soon, I hoped to taste her.

  She glared at me again, her hands on her thick hips. “What makes you think you need to take care of me? I didn’t do anything wrong and, unless I’m having memory lapses, I don’t recall us ever stopping by your ex-wife’s house, so why are they saying we were there? What do they think you did? And, more importantly, why am I being dragged into any of this?”

  I didn’t have an answer for her other than to say, “Stephanie is out of her damn mind. She spent the last three months wreaking havoc on my life. Things were going well -- really well -- until she had a miraculous recovery from her ‘don’t-have-time-for-this’ parenting style and decided she wanted to try to be a parent again.”

  The attorneys I hired sat stoically watching our exchange. I was thankful for their silence because, based on the way Hillary reacted, they’d have a difficult time diffusing the situation. This was my problem. Although I never went to Stephanie’s house that night, I had thought about it. Of course, I wouldn’t have wanted to take Hillary with me. I did a lot of crazy things in my life, but not that crazy. I was all about having more than one woman at the ready, but not my ex-wife. Never my ex-wife. Been there, done that. And, I should have never done it in
the first place. Other than having had my son, nothing else worth my while came out of the relationship. Not a damn thing.

  Kelly busted through the double doors like the world had ended. “What in the Sam Hell did you do now?” she screamed at the top of her lungs.

  I cringed, remembering Hillary’s husband’s name was Sam.

  She stepped right up to me, prepared to beat me down if necessary. “What part of don’t do anything stupid did you not understand? I told you not to get into any trouble. I told you to keep your ass at home and let me handle things, but no, you couldn’t handle that. Why not, tough guy? Is your big ass ego so big it blocked your ears and you didn’t hear me tell you to let me do my job?” If smoke could come out of a human being’s ears, I’m convinced it would have billowed out of hers as she glared up at me.