Razor Sharp | ✓

Twelve

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"There is no escaping me, Elena," the chuckle that leaves Andy's mouth sends shivers down my spine.

Andy pulls out a gleaming knife. It shines from the light of the moon and I back further into the corner. When he thrusts the knife towards my body, the room suddenly changes.

I'm ten years old again.

Noah's crying by the front door of my house. I almost make a joke about him being a baby, but then I see his expression. Something bad has happened.

"What's wrong?" I ask. He flinches, spinning around to face me. Tears are running down his face and his lip quivers.

"It's...she...she left without...she just left without saying goodbye. She just left a note...she only left a..." he trails off and I try to pick up the pieces, to understand what he's talking about.

"Who left? What are you talking about?"

Noah closes his eyes, bringing his hands up to cover his face. "Oh god, what are we going to do now? How are we...dad won't be able to look after us on his own. He's always...how? How could she?" he suddenly turns angry as he crashes against the wall, falling to the floor.

I suddenly grow frantic, not understanding what he's talking about. "Noah! What's going on?"

He looks up at me then, his tears still flowing down his cheeks. "Mum. Mum left us."

"Ellie, wake up! Ellie, you're having a nightmare. Hey!"

I suddenly jolt awake, breathing hard. I sit up on my mattress, my hair plastered to my head with sweat. Beside me sits Ridge, rubbing circles on my back. I try to focus on his hand moving delicately over my skin so that I can control my erratic breathing.

"It wasn't real, you were just having a nightmare."

I start to sob, shaking my head. I turn to face him and without even thinking about it, I throw my arms around his neck, burying my face in his shoulder. His grip on my back is tight, like he's scared to let me go.

"I miss her," I suddenly blurt out, regretting the words instantly. "I miss my mum."

It isn't something I admit very often. When my mum left, I was so angry and I didn't want to feel anything else. I didn't want to miss someone who purposely walked out of my life and didn't return. It's bad enough that I have to share a name with her, and that we have an uncanny resemblance.

"I miss mine, too. Don't worry though, when you go home, at least you'll be able to see her."

I almost tell him the truth, that I hadn't seen my mum in seven years. But something about his tone tells me that he doesn't want to talk about mothers anymore.

I'm surprised that he doesn't know the truth about mine. I'm sure Andy and the rest of The Razors would known all about my mother leaving her family.

He continues to hold me, but this time he moves onto the mattress, sitting behind me so that I'm leaning against him. His arms are draped around my waist, holding me tight. There is nothing intimate about it, just two people needing each other's support. I don't even know what Ridge is to me. Hardly a friend, but not exactly my enemy anymore, either. It's becoming increasingly harder to seperate what I've always believed, with what I'm starting to learn.

"Do you miss it?" he whispers.

"Miss what?"

"Home. Your brother. The Skulls?"

"Of course, I do. You think I actually like being here?" I snap.

He flinches behind me, sighing. "I guess that was a pretty dumb question."

"The dumbest," I deadpan.

"What was your nightmare about?"

I freeze, not really wanting to talk to him about it. This is such a fucked up situation. I'm being held by one of the Haswell brothers, one of the reasons I'm here. I know for a fact that other people who have been taken do not act like this with their kidnappers.

What is it they call it? Stockholm syndrome. Only I'm not in love with my captors.

If I wasn't so exhausted I would pull away from Ridge, telling him to leave. But my mouth just can't quite seem to form the words. Anyone's company is better than being alone. Well, maybe anyone except Andy.

"You don't have to answer if you don't want, I get it," he says.

"It was just about...you know, I'm sure you can guess," I whisper, playing with the hem of my shirt.

He breathes out, his chest rising and falling against my back. "Yeah," he says, his voice monotone, "I'm sure I can."

It's getting harder to hate the Haswell brothers. I'm supposed to be finding information out about them. Getting closer to them is obviously the best idea to find out some information, but it is also really risky. I know what I'm like as a person, and once I get to know someone, I found it incredibly harder to stab them in the back.

Sitting with Ridge right now is definitely the perfect opportunity to get information out of him, but for some reason, I just can't do it.

"I need to tell you something," Ridges whispers. "They're going to ambush The Skulls."

"What?" I turn around to stare at him, eyes wide in the dark. "When?"

"I don't know exactly. But soon," he breathes. "I shouldn't even be telling you this."

"I'm glad you did," I nod.

Maybe the guy who is undercover as a Razor here has already warned dad, but I'm not going to take that chance. I know that as soon as I wake up in the morning, I need to beg Andy for a phone call.

I don't care what it takes, my dad needs to know what's about to go down.