Razor's Edge (Afflictions) by Racquel Reck

to the cabin.
    "Morg, turn around, man." Wiley leans in between the seats. "Tryst is right. They might need our help. You have a fucking Hummer, dude."
    "No." I try to tune him out and concentrate on the road in front of me. The further I get away from the wrecked car, the worse my bad inkling gets. It raises my irritation to new heights. Try to keep it cool, man. Yeah, like telling myself that is going to help. I wish I had my fucking pot.
    "Think about it, man. I didn’t see anyone waving, did you? What if they’re hurt? Do you want a replay of what happened twenty-three years ago? If you had come into that bathroom five minutes before–"
    I slam on the brakes and Wiley jerks forward into the center console. The Hummer fish-tails back and forth a couple of times then skids to a stop. It was an asshole move on my part. I could’ve killed all three of us, but my rage is flaring and I couldn’t care less about my knee-jerk reaction.
    "You have no fucking right to bring that up!" Guilt slams into my psyche. My mind’s going through lost memories of the day I found my Dad. He’d only been dead for five minutes. If Logan and I had come home on time we could have helped him. Wiley knows how much this point in my past trips me out. He’s a dickhead for throwing it in my face. I turn in my seat and glare at him.
    Tryst is white knuckling the oh-shit handles and looking back and forth between me and Wiley. Like he expects us to smash each other’s faces in over the seats.
    Wiley scoots further back into his seat like he expects me to launch myself at him. "Calm down. I didn’t mean–"
    "Yeah, you fucking did." I jab my finger in Wiley’s face. The rage inside me trembles with an urge to hit him. He’s lucky I’m still caged in by my seat belt. "You know just how bad a place I go to when I think about that shit."
    "Sorry, I’m just sayin." Wiley holds up his hands. "What if it was Logan and Dani in that car?"
    "My brother knows how to drive in the snow." Wiley’s right. I have to turn around. Taking a deep breath, I turn back in my seat and put the Hummer in gear. After busting a U- ey, it doesn’t take long for red taillights to come back into view. Slowing the Hummer, I can now see what kind of – "Is that a Probe? I didn’t think they made those cars anymore."
    “Fuck!” Tryst unbuckles his seat belt. "That’s Shay’s car!"
    Every horrible feeling that I’ve had, from the time we left for the cabin until now, flips upside-down. Fear for a woman and little boy I hardly know has my heart in a gymnastics meet. The urge to call her was so strong, and I ignored it. Why don’t I ever listen to what my gut tells me? Adrenaline shoots through me, chasing the worry away, and propels me into action. I back my Hummer up to her car. She’s going to need to be pulled from the snow. But before I stop, Tryst’s flying out the door. I want to be the one rushing to her rescue.
    Throwing it in park, I dart out the door. My ass only gets about two inches of air time and hits the seat again. Fucking seat belt. Shay on the brain and I forget everything else. I fumble with the confines of my shackles and finally get it off. As I’m climbing down, she rounds my bumper.
    My heart jumps in my chest. I sigh. She’s okay.
    Her face glows red with the light from my Hummer’s taillights. Even through the thick flakes swirling around her, I notice there’s no blood and from what I can tell, no visible injuries. My sex angel is safe. A rush of warmth floods my system, leaving my body drunk from the adrenalin high.
    "Are you okay?” I touch the soft skin of her face and check for any visible bruising. There’s none. Thank God. Black and blue is not a color she should ever wear on her face. “Where’s Ben? Was he with you?"
    "I’m fine. He’s okay, too. He’s playing his DS." She walks up to my back passenger side door and opens it. "Wiley, Tryst says you have a satellite phone. Can I use it? Mine has no