Razor (2 page)

Especially now, so close he seemed to surround her, that devilish grin entirely too seductive on a boy who was not yet a man.

Aaliyah stepped back, refusing to allow him to get comfortable surrounding her like that, like he’d been attempting more and more lately.

He stepped forward, more blatant in his moves than he’d ever been before. “Please, Aaliyah, I need your help.”

“What help?” She moved further from this boldness, a split-second desire to run striking through her.

No.

Certainty came over her. If she ran, he’d catch her.

“Sweet sixteen and never been kissed,” he continued, stepping closer to her in response to her stepping back. “You can’t leave me hanging with that. It’s got to be you. I don’t want anyone else. I’ve been waiting to be old enough for you.”

Mistake.
It had been a mistake to ask him here. If she hadn’t, they could have avoided this proclamation that would only make her news infinitely more difficult for him, now that his pride was involved.

Maybe she could still salvage this. She stepped forward, creating a circle of intimacy around them that hopefully retained the sense of being friendly and not romantic. She took his one hand in both of hers, the way she did when trying to calm her nieces and nephews. “Razor, I know you don’t believe this, but there is a world of difference between sixteen and twenty-six. You are talented and sweet and responsible, but there is so much growing for you still to do. I’m honored that you care for me enough to want to give me that gift, but it would be nothing but wrong for me to take it.”

He was shaking his head before she even finished, the argument flashing in those eyes now, within the tenseness of his body. “I’m not a kid. I take care of everyone. I’ll take care of you too.”

“No, you’re not a kid.” He relaxed at her words, only to tense again as she added, “but you’re not an adult either. You’re growing, just like you should be, but you’re not grown, and grown women have no business messing around with still growing men.”

“Fine!”
He pulled his hand away, his big yet still awkward body now beginning to pace through her kitchen and into her living room. “Fine, I can wait. Eighteen is only two years away, and then no one can say a damn
thing
when we’re together!”

She’d been right in her fears. He wasn’t going to let her go, and maybe there was a part that mourned the impossibility of what he’d been thinking, but right now her responsibility lay in getting him to see life after her.

“Razor.” She walked up to him, reached up and cradled his face in her palms, the gesture near instinctive now, having been used many times to calm him, times when he came to her bone-weary from dealing with burdens of raising his younger brothers because the man who should have been a father instead decided to live at the bottom of a bottle.

No wonder he has a crush on an older woman.
He had so many responsibilities on his shoulders, there was no doubt he felt far older than his age. She’d been the one he turned to, asked for advice sometimes, other times wouldn’t say a word, but buried his head in her shoulder and kept her close.

He never cried, only held her, pain written over every inch of his expressive bearing, breathing her deep in a way that didn’t make sense since she never wore perfumes or any other type of scent.

“Razor,” she repeated, her heart near bursting with affection for this half-grown man in front of her. “I am
honored
.”

She forced every bit of sincerity, of care, of emotion she held for him in that world. She wanted to press it deep into his head and his heart so we would know the truth of it. One day, please God, the pain would fade, but he’d always remember the truth of that word.

“No matter our age difference, you are my friend, and I am
honored
you chose me to be the first you cared for like this. But this isn’t meant to be.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” Now his hands covered hers, excitement entering his eyes, the emotions whiplashing through him. No more anger showed on him, only a happy nervousness as he gazed down at her. “We are meant to be. Please tell me you feel it too. It can’t be just me.”

“I’m getting married.” It was heartless, to be so plain and open with the words she knew would destroy him. They held a cruel edge like nothing she ever uttered before in her life, and she wielded them as precisely as she could against the young man before her. Because it was what was best for him. “His name’s Damon, and we’re getting married at the justice of the peace on Friday, and Saturday we’re moving to California.”

Please God, let this be alright in the end.

He staggered, body shaking in a way she’d never be able to accomplish by any physical means, and only by pure luck was he able to grab the edge of the couch and keep himself up.

“You can’t.”

It wasn’t a shout. The words were stark, lifeless, bloodless, an echo of the transformation taking over his face, his body.

“I’m sorry.”

‡

A
aliyah was finishing
the inventory count when Bella called out, “Almost done?”

“Done,” she affirmed, signing her name to the bottom of the sheet. True, here it was just her and Bella, but accountability existed as much to keep people from getting sloppy as it did to assign blame.

It was almost scary, how easily she fell back into the routine at Doc’s. And that’s how it still felt, like Doc’s, though it was Bella’s name now on the front door of the clinic and Bella’s degrees and certifications on the office walls.

Aside from that, it was all as it was ten years ago, down to the big tree in front that still had the scar in the trunk from when Razor had pushed the mower into it. She’d been outside but hadn’t seen it happening, only heard the God-awful racket it created and turned to see the aftereffects.

Doc was laughing his ass off, Razor was redder than the sunburn patient she’d treated earlier in the week, and if it wasn’t for her own midnight black skin, everyone would have seen her turn the same shade when Doc leaned in and said low, “Maybe you shouldn’t bend over anymore when that damn fool is around, though I appreciate you trying to keep the porch litter free.”

Razor
. He probably still lived here. Most people who lived in this area didn’t move. Would he be married? Kids?

How tall had he ended up?

Should she look him up?

Ah.
The million dollar question there, the one that burned her gut and kept her awake.

Not initially. There had been the divorce to go through, amicable as possible considering the circumstances, but when there’s a pregnant mistress who is also interested in how it falls out financially, well, there’s no way to avoid all nastiness.

Then there had been the consideration if she should move back, but one long phone call that had a rotation of at least twelve family members come on to damn near order her home made that decision very easy.

Then there were the logistics of the cross-country move interspersed with saying goodbye to the friends she’d had in California, and dealing with a seemingly endless string of
just one more
papers and requests from Damon, and long-distance job hunting, and Aaliyah would burn all her earthly possessions and start fresh if she ever had to move again.

But once all that was settled, the question that plopped into the middle of her brain and refused to budge was if she should seek out Razor.

If she put it on paper like a graph, her thoughts concerning Razor would make a U shape. When she first married and moved, she thought about him constantly. The cold earth pain on his features before he ran out the door that final day stayed with her until even now, but while now it had the power to hurt her heart, when it was fresh it had the power to wake her up in a cold sweat or bury her head in her hands to force back tears, one or two of which still always managed to fall.

But life happened, specifically newlywed, newly moved life, and in time as more of her thoughts and energy went into creating new friends and forming connections with new coworkers, less of it went into thinking of those she left behind, until one day, it was the thought of how
long
it had been since she thought of Razor had her baking an apple pie that night, taking it to work the next day to the delight of the other nurses.

Then life happened again, and as it became apparent Damon was not a happily married man, as the squares of the messy quilt that was their life became unraveled and began to fall, her thoughts turned more and more to where her heart still called
home
, and Razor’s green eyes still resided there.

Now back where it began, and he would be twenty-six now to her thirty-six.

Really an old woman.

Doc’s wasn’t very big. The front desk and waiting area, a couple examination rooms, an x-ray and a lab, the supply room, and Doc’s office where all files, papers, and patient charts were kept. Aaliyah walked in on Bella sitting on top of the desk with Iron looming over her, leaning down and giving her the hottest kiss not filmed in a porno, and yet it was the gentle way his thumb stroked over Bella’s throat that grabbed Aaliyah’s attention, enough that it took her more seconds than it should to knock on the door with several loud thwacks to get their attention.

Bella broke it off, pushing back at Iron when he moved to follow her. “Sorry about that,” she said, voice breathy. “My husband surprised me.”

“I noticed.”

Bella hopped off the desk and moved around Iron, while his eyes never left his wife, and when they slid down to her ass the sound he emitted was so animal-like Aaliyah was tempted to look outside, though she’d seen the man’s mouth and
knew
it was him.

Bella turned, fire in her eyes as she stared at him, and Iron gave a half-conciliatory smile that was totally ruined by his eyes taking in the front of her body.

That had Bella giggling, pointing to the door and going, “Out!”

Iron pursed his lips to blow her a kiss, then looked over at Aaliyah. His eyes lost the soft look they had when they were on Bella, but what replaced it was still a mystery, some mixture of curiosity and planning and maybe even a little bit of dislike, only a hint.

Several men looked at her like that in these last few weeks since she’d returned, some of them she remembered from the first time she’d been here, others – like Iron – she never met.

Maybe Razor’s crush had been obvious to more than just her and Doc. Maybe he spoke of it to his friends. Maybe the men who were looking at her hated her a little for how she had hurt him.

Or maybe not a damn one knew or remembered her, and she’d built this up so much in her own head, she saw the same motivations on everyone, and they looked at her like that because that’s how they always looked when deciding about someone.

Iron gave a small tilt of his head and a quiet, “Nice seeing you, Aaliyah,” and was out the door.

Bella held out her hand to take the forms, looking them over with a quick nod. “Can you believe we’re here doing this?” she said, looking up and giving Aaliyah a conspiratorial wink.

“I feel like Doc is going to walk in and kick us out for
girlifying
his space.” It was nice Bella understood, that she grew up near enough the area that she was familiar with Doc and the goings-on around here.

There had been some long nights at the hospital, and that’s how this began, sharing stories about their lives, which led them to discover the ways they crisscrossed. Bella’s story about growing up with Iron and the two of them finally finding each other had Aaliyah hugging the other woman in happiness, and the heartfelt way the Bella had held Aaliyah’s hand when she talked about the divorce had cemented their friendship, and ultimately, led to the offer of her, once again, being the nurse for Doc’s office.

There was commotion in the front, and Aaliyah and Bella moved to check it out. Though they were technically closed today, anyone around would come here. Only the direst of situations had anyone going anywhere beside Doc’s.

There was a small boy cradled against a man’s chest, the boy holding his arm close to him, and the man said, “He fell out of a tree. Think he broke it, Doc.”

Bella was already in front of the boy, and though she was all soothing strokes and sounds as she looked the boy over, her mouth did quirk at the man calling her
Doc
. “Pretty sure you’re right. We’ll take the x-ray to be positive, but I think you’re getting a cast young man.”

The boy groaned, more out of annoyance than pain, and Aaliyah relaxed. This wasn’t bad, and the boy would end up more mad that he wouldn’t be able to play like he wanted then dealing with anything serious.

They went to the machine, the man placing him down in such a way that suggested he had a bit of experience with this particular piece of equipment, and then he left without prompting.

It was a simple break, and as Bella was getting the boy in the cast, Aaliyah went out to tell the man what was going on and get the forms filled.

She walked into the waiting area where the man waited, back to her and looking out the window.