Chapter Ten #2
Everyone looked at each other, their gazes determined. Whether it was because they really wanted to know how she became Razor or make it to the postseason, Razor didn’t care. The outing was a success on every level, and that was most important to her.
Disappointment faded into the excitement of possibility, and everyone hugged Razor so tightly she couldn’t move.
She was squeezed harder than a piece of fruit at the supermarket, but there was elation running through her body.
She was accepted by her team. Her body went limp with relief at achieving this monumental feat, and she reached out to hug those close tighter to her.
Razor saw Ashton with her hands pressed to her mouth, awe in her expression at how far she’d come in such a short time. Razor smiled. She’d turned a little to her left to encompass Harper more when she noticed quick movement happening behind them.
A young man with blond hair and a red T-shirt wove through the crowd. He was about six feet tall, and quick. Before anyone could react, he’d elbowed past Ashton and lifted Emery off the ground in a fireman’s carry. Her scream pierced the air and triggered something inside Razor.
Razor moved, but her feet felt like they were stuck in molasses as she tried to stop him.
The group she’d been so happy to be the center of now impeded her progress to save Emery.
Arms grabbed at her, and no matter how hard she fought against them, they only pulled tighter.
She was trapped in a nightmare where she was moving in slow motion and couldn’t reach her destination.
The thought of not saving Emery in time had her frantic.
Finally, Razor broke free and lunged forward.
She pulled Emery out of his arms, then slammed his body into the nearby crane game.
Her right hand balled into a fist and rose above her head.
Her vision blurred around the edges, leaving only the guy’s face as her focus.
She heard screams, but they were distant and echoey.
The euphoria from before vanished, in its place, white-hot rage.
A flash popped into her brain, and Razor was propelled to another place, another time. A young girl, screaming for help, pinned against a wooden locker while her assailant reached for his belt.
Stop fighting. It’ll only make it worse, the man said.
She tried to shake off the image, but it didn’t work. The man now stood in front of her, a smug grin on his face, but it was she who had him pinned with his arm stretched above his head. She shoved her arm into his chest hard, making sure he didn’t get away this time.
Somewhere, distantly, she felt a touch on her shoulder and a voice pleading, “Whoa, Razor. This is my brother, Jamie. Remember? I told you about him?”
The voice was familiar, but the rage inside her prevented Razor from registering what was being said.
She pushed harder into the chest of the assailant.
Her teeth ground together, ready to protect her friend from harm.
Suddenly, two warm hands grabbed her face and pulled her focus away from the maniacal laugh of her prisoner.
“Razor, stop.”
The firm phrase pierced her brain, and the speaker’s features came into focus. Silky blond hair. Smooth skin. Lips normally lush pulled into a thin line of concern. Ashton. Why was Ashton here? Why was she holding Razor’s face with such care? She tried to shake her head, but Ashton held firm.
“Don’t look away. Focus on me.”
Slowly, the sounds and lights seeped back into her consciousness, flooding her senses. Razor felt chilly, but there was sweat on her brow.
“Razor, please. It’s just my big jerk of a brother. Don’t hurt him.”
Razor turned her head slowly and saw the eyes of a frightened boy, his arm pinned above his head. She looked over his shoulder and saw fear in Emery’s eyes, as she pleaded with her to let him go. Slowly, she pulled her arm away and took a deep, cleansing breath.
“I’m sorry. You caught me by surprise.” She clasped Ashton’s hand in a death grip, anchoring herself to the present.
Jamie smoothed the front of his shirt. “All good. At least I know Emery’s well protected at school.”
Emery smacked the back of his head. “I should let her kick your ass. Where the hell do you get off manhandling me like that?”
She hit his arm again for good measure.
“Ow! I’m sorry. I saw you over here and wanted to say hi.”
“Next time, say it.”
“Okay,” Jamie said. “Next time I’ll send you a text.”
The adrenaline left Razor’s body. She felt lightheaded and stumbled into the machine, vaguely aware she was still holding Ashton’s hand.
“It’s getting close to curfew, everyone,” Ashton announced. “Go cash in your tickets and meet me at the front door in fifteen minutes.”
As soon as everyone left, Razor slid to the floor and hung her head.
“Are you okay?”
“I almost assaulted my teammate’s brother. No, I’m not okay.”
Ashton lifted Razor’s head and held her face in her palm. “Focus on me. Focus on my voice. You’re not a bad person. You didn’t do anything wrong. In fact, it was very commendable.”
“How can you say that?”
“Because you were defending your friend. You reacted when the rest of us just stood there, unable to know what was happening until it was too late.”
“But it was Emery’s brother,” Razor said, tears running down her face.
“You didn’t know that. You couldn’t have known that. For all you knew, it was a strange guy wanting to kidnap Emery. And you saved her.”
Ashton pushed Razor’s hair back, smoothing the strands behind her ear. She slid her hand down to Razor’s chest and felt her heartbeat slow. “That’s it. Be calm. You helped your friend. That’s all you did.”
She placed her hand on Razor’s cheek again, and Razor leaned into the touch. When Razor’s breath steadied, she moved to get up, and Ashton let her.
“What can I do?”
Razor breathed deeply. “You’ve already done it. Thank you.”
Razor grabbed her hand and guided them toward the store.
Right before they entered, Ashton pulled them to a stop and said, “When we get back, I want to talk, if that’s okay.
” Razor nodded, trying to focus on the simple act of walking.
“But for now, do you think you can handle picking out the tackiest prize a thousand tickets can buy?”
Razor laughed. “Yeah. I think I can manage that.”
* * *
The ride back to the hotel was fun and light.
Everyone showed off their little trinkets, completely ignoring the incident between Razor and Jamie.
No one seemed to be wise to what happened.
But Ashton knew. She’d studied it. Was studying it.
Had witnessed it once already with Razor.
That’s why she’d acted fast and sent the girls to the gift shop.
She wanted to save Razor from having to explain her intense reaction.
Razor stared silently out the window, choosing to sit in the back instead of the front on the return trip, an eerie juxtaposition to the chaos happening around her, and it worried Ashton on a level she hadn’t experienced before.
When the van parked in the hotel roundabout, everyone piled out.
Ashton ordered them to their rooms to get ready for bed check.
A few patted Razor on the back, and Ashton didn’t miss the flinch that followed.
She waited until the elevator doors closed, the girls safely on their way back to their rooms. Then, carefully, she clasped Razor’s hand and whispered, “Come with me.”
They rushed into the elevator, their hands tightly together, and rode in silence to the fifth floor.
Ashton wasted no time once they entered her room.
She deposited Razor in the chair next to the window and grabbed a wet washcloth from the bathroom.
She laid it on the back of Razor’s neck and knelt on the floor so she could look her in the eyes.
They stayed quiet for a while. Eventually, Razor’s breathing steadied, and Ashton sighed in relief.
Her hands slipped away from Razor’s neck, but Razor grasped them.
Ashton looked up and saw a range of emotions cross Razor’s face, but the most dominant was sadness.
Razor slowly let go of her hands and moved in closer, her arms wrapping around Ashton’s torso.
Ashton gasped at the realization that she was being hugged, comforted, and she returned the sentiment, wrapping her arms around Razor’s shoulders.
“I’m sorry,” Razor whispered.
Ashton pulled back. “For what?”
“I thought I’d gotten over this, but I guess not.”
Ashton stood and took the seat opposite her. She needed some distance if they were going to have this conversation.
“Did you ever seek help for it?”