Razor's Edge (Afflictions) by Racquel Reck Read Free Book Online Page A

the patience to hold his hand while he uses the gun. They’re heavy, so he needs help, and the drawing he wanted to do..." He shakes his head. "Way too girly."
    Bryan nods at Tryst. “You got my vote.” Bryan reaches into his pocket. “But I think you’re the one who needs this." He chucks my eighth at Tryst and he catches it midair. "You need to loosen up a lot if you’re serious about joining."
    "Um..." He looks down at it and scrunches his nose. "If you ever meet my cuz, I don’t smoke this shit. She really hates drug use."
    Maybe the dude’s cool after all. Still pissed about my pot though. What the hell am I going to do without it? Just watching Tryst handle the bag of my green has me itching to spark up. I’m a man of my word. The mantra isn’t working. My high from earlier is gone. All my body wants to do is get blitzed.
    "Oh." Lina jumps up and down. "I just got a great idea. If Emily does sign us, we all should get our band’s logo tatted on us! Ya know, to celebrate?"
    All of them agree, and what can I do? They outnumber me. I nod my head. "Okay, then we all agree. Tryst is the new guitar player?”
    Wiley does a drum roll then hits a cymbal. “He’s in.”
    Lina nods. “Hell yeah he is.”
    Bryan rolls his eyes and shrugs.
    Excellent! “Let’s go through that last song again. I want to be playing when Emily gets here and I don’t want any fuck ups."

 
     
                  Five
     
    Shay
     
    The door slams. Another one of Tryst’s clients just walked out. He was supposed to be back by five and it’s almost eleven. He’s costing me money. This is so unlike him. He never misses his appointments, never takes advantage of the fact that he’s my cousin and he hasn’t been answering his phone. You’d think the guy would at least call me and let me know what’s up. I tried calling him but his phone’s off. Did he get in the band or not? 
    Turning away from the clock, I click back into my financial report. My numbers are down. This day just keeps getting better and better.
    "Does it hurt?" Ben asks Heather for the millionth time.
    She nods and grits her teeth. Her entire body is tense as she lays on the chair under Bebe’s gun.
    Normally Ben’s already in bed, but Nancy, his babysitter, called off, and I was forced to let Ben come to work with me. With my appointments I haven’t had the time to tuck him in. But since Tryst’s client decided she’d reschedule, now I can. "Ben, why don’t you go upstairs and get ready for bed? I’ll be up in a minute to tuck you in."
    I glance back at the numbers that are laughing at me. I’m never going to open a shop in a decent neighborhood at this rate.
    "But I want to see the tatt when Aunt Bebe finishes." He comes over to where I’m sitting and yawns. 
    "Tell you what. You go upstairs and get ready for bed and I’ll let you stay up half an hour after your bedtime tomorrow. Deal?"
    "Yes!" His eyes go bright then he takes off through the beads that lead into the back of my shop.
    "How in the hell do you get him out of bed so early on Sundays? Staying up late always makes me grouchy." Bebe wipes away the blood and ink from Heather’s calf and glances at me.
    "More like makes you a bee- yatch."
    She arches a brow at me then goes back to inking Heather's calf. "I just don’t understand how an eight year old can get so excited about going to the Laundromat."
    "That’s easy." I hit print and lean back to wait for the computer to spit out my financial report. "He loves to play the arcade games before it gets busy.” Sundays are always jam-packed there, and Mondays aren’t any better. The earlier I go, the better. I really should see about getting a washer and dryer. Can’t afford it, though—not if I want to reach my goal.
    Bebe half-laughs, wipes and sprays Heather’s calf with antibacterial solution, then begins dressing her tatt.
    I grab the financial report and head toward the stairs to my loft. "Watch the front. I’ll be down in a