Walk The Edge. Katie McGarry

       Breanna

      IS THAT WHY you brought up the twenty dollars? And things were going so well. As in I no longer thought Thomas was going to kidnap me and kill me. I made a mistake. A huge mistake. I insinuated he planned on robbing me because...well...I thought he was three seconds from robbing me. I thought if I told him what I had, the experience would be less painful.

      Literally.

      My phone vibrates. It’s my mother and I can hear her weary voice in the written words. Sorry, Bre. I could make excuses, but I thought your dad picked you up and he thought I got you and both of us were home and thought you were upstairs. Your dad left to pick up Zac and I let Joshua take my car. Liam’s on his way to get you now.

      Liam. My fate rests in the hands of my older brother who has the mental maturity of a grape. For the love of God, he got a Froot Loop stuck up his nose this morning—on purpose.

      My shoulders roll forward as I groan. Loudly. So loud that when I raise my head, Thomas is gawking at me like I’ve grown a unicorn horn.

      That’s it. I’m going to die a horrible death. I’m alone with a biker who has a patch that indicates he carries deadly weapons and he already admitted he uses a gun. He’ll probably record my demise and upload a viral video as a warning to the rest of the world not to mess with him.

      Twenty dollars. What reason can I think of for telling him about my twenty dollars that won’t insult him? I doubt that saying “Hey, Mr. Biker Guy, I was totally offering it as payment so you won’t kill me” would fly...or maybe it will. He protects things...semi loads...as a job... “Yes!”

      His forehead furrows. “What’s a yes?”

      I bounce on my toes. I’m happy. I’m excited. I am not going to die! Muppet arms are in full force. “I was offering you twenty dollars because I was going to hire you.”

      He laughs. It’s more of a chuckle, but it’s a fantastic sound and it’s a beautiful sight on an already gorgeous face. My heart flutters for a moment beyond the fear, but as his laugh wanes, he narrows his frozen blue eyes on me. My happy moment fades, and my arms fall to my sides.

      “I’ll bite. What are you hiring me for?”

      I sweep my hair away from my face and steal a peek at the rest of his motorcycle friends, who are now talking among themselves and ignoring us. “To be my bodyguard.”

      “Your bodyguard?” he repeats while crossing his arms over his chest.

      He’s not buying it, but I’ll try to sell it. “I knew you protected stuff.”

      “You did?”

      I didn’t. “Totally, and when Addison had to leave, I was going to walk over to you and ask if I could pay you to stick around until my ride showed, but you...” Scared me to death. “Startled me and I lost track of what I was going to say.”

      He works his jaw and my mind is ticking with what it might imply. Jaw flexing can mean a person’s agitated, but in order to know I’d need a baseline of behavior to compare it to...

      “Is that right?” He interrupts the weird flow of information in my brain.

      Not at all. “Yes.”

      Thomas settles against the wall and he reminds me of an angel. An archangel. I was obsessed with them in elementary school. Easily consumed every archangel book in our town’s library—both volumes. Archangels are the warriors of God. This guy, he’s definitely beautiful enough to be a heavenly creature and he’s also deadly enough to wield a sword, but I’m not convinced he dabbles on the side of righteousness.

      “If I agree to be your bodyguard,” he says, “you’ll owe me?”

      “Yes.”

      He nods like he’s hearing something way more than what I said. “Then I accept.”

      Thomas holds out his hand to me and I stare at his offered open palm, then meet those cold eyes. I can do this and then all will be okay. I lift my arm and inch my hand closer to his.

      “So we’re clear.” He stops me centimeters short of our hands touching. The heat from his skin radiates to mine. “The condition is that as long as I’m protecting you, you’ll owe me.”

      There’s a whisper nagging me to run. To do anything to escape this situation. It’s more than the warning caressing the inside of my head, it’s also the fine hairs on the back of my neck standing on end. He’s gorgeous and dangerous. Like the fallen angel Lucifer must have been. This could be the equivalent of a handshake with the devil.

      I’m minutes away from my brother rescuing me, so whatever deal we’re on the verge of forging will be temporary. Then this night will drift away like the nightmares I used to have as a child. A distant memory of something that will feel so unreal I’ll wonder if it happened at all.

      My hand slides into his and his fingers close around mine. It’s a firm grip. One I couldn’t slip from if I wanted. He doesn’t shake our joined hands. Instead, he steps closer and lowers his head so that we’re eye to eye. “When a brother of the Reign of Terror makes a promise, we don’t break it, and we expect the same from those we do business with. Which means you can’t walk from this deal without consequences.”

      The air rushes out of my body, but as I draw back to renege on my verbal agreement, our hands move up once, then down, then up again.

      The deal made, the promise in stone, and a car horn honks. My entire body vibrates and I dash away from Thomas. My skin burns as if I had shaken hands with him in the flames of hell.

      A rap song blares into the night and I look over to the curb to see Liam bolting out of the driver’s side of his beat-up, extremely used car. The wrath of God blazes from his eyes. “Bre!”

      Thomas eases back as if he’s informing me to go. Almost dropping my phone again, I fumble with my purse. “I owe you money.”

      Granted he didn’t actually “protect me” after the handshake, but I’ll gladly pay him for not shoving me into whatever blacked-out van they have waiting.

      Thomas waves me off. “You can pay me later.”

      Guess he does expect payment for the one second of services rendered.

      “Bre!” Liam left the car door open and he’s barreling in like a freight train without brakes. Liam’s taller than me, with black hair like mine, and he’s toned from the years he played linebacker in high school. “Hey, asshole, get away from my sister!”

      “He doesn’t mean it.” I stumble backward off the steps, toward the safety of my brother. I don’t like how Thomas is watching Liam closing in, nor do I like how we have gained the complete attention of the guys near the motorcycles.

      “Liam’s a spaz sometimes, like a mental condition,” I ramble, though truer words could never be spoken. “But I swear he’s cool, I promise, and I’ll pay you soon.”

      With his focus solely on my brother, Thomas edges his hand to the underside of his leather vest and my stomach lurches. “Get this guy out of here before he starts shit he can’t finish.”

      Holy crap. Thomas does carry a gun, and if my stupid brother doesn’t calm down, we’ll both be witnessing it firsthand. I trip down the stairs and crash into my brother, shoving both of my hands into Liam’s chest. I plant my feet into