Page 56 of Razor

"Yeah, I just . . . I realized I haven’t looked for a fix yet.”

I can feel his lips curling up into a smile against my neck, “Good. I hope you won’t.”

His words should make me feel better, but they terrify me.

“This is freaky as fuck, Razor. I haven’t stopped using in . . . months, and I know I’m going to crave it soon.”

"I know it can be scary," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the side of my neck. "But I promise I'll be here for you every step of the way. You’re not going to be in this alone, okay?”

"Okay,” I murmur, truly touched by his sincerity.

The truth is, he doesn’t have to be doing any of this for me, and yet he is.

“I have to go take a piss, I’ll be back, but feel free to clear a drawer out and put your clothes wherever you want.” Razor comments as he heads for the bathroom.

I nod, dig into my pocket and pull out my phone.

Sighing, I know as much as I want to avoid my father, I can’t do it forever.

Powering the phone on, my heart pounds in my chest.

The second it powers on, my phone buzzes over and over again.

There are a total of twenty voicemails from my father, and almost forty text messages.

“Jesus,” I mutter under my breath.

Razor comes out of the bathroom, concern etching his face. “Everything okay?”

Shit, I must not be hiding my emotions very well right now.

"Um, yeah," I lie straight through my teeth. "Just . . . my dad. He's blowing up my phone.”

Razor nods, “Probably best to talk to him before he gets one of the boys to track your cell.”

I stare at Razor blankly, not even considering that as a possibility. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Sucking in a deep breath, I muster up every bit of courage I have and type a text message to him.

To: Dad

Hey, I’m safe. Just need a vacation. Love you. Talk soon.

I click the send button before I can convince myself to avoid him even longer.

Almost immediately, I get a call from him.

God . . . he must be freaking out.

Razor licks his lips and looks at me. “You might as well answer it now. He’s just gonna keep callin’.”

He makes a valid point.

I click the accept button and bring the phone to my ear. “Hey, Dad.”

His heavy breathing is the first thing I hear, “Oakleigh, where the fuck are you?” His voice is heavy with concern as each word comes out. “You’ve been gone for days, and all you left me was a damn note. What in the fuck is goin’ on?! Huh?”

I understand his anger to a point, but he doesn’t need to be speaking to me like this.

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