Razor Sharp | ✓

Twenty-Three

♡♡♡

Hunter's already gone by the time I wake up.

The door creaks open and I hate that my heart starts thumping loudly, expecting Andy.

Luckily, it's just Ridge. "Um, hi," he says, leaving the door open ajar. He crosses his arms over his chest, leaning back against the far wall.

"Hey," I say, picking at my blanket. I'm desperately craving a hot shower right about now. Too bad Andy turns the hot water off whenever I get in.

"Dad wants to talk to you," he says, clearing his throat.

"About?"

"Not sure. He didn't say actually." He won't meet my eyes and I realise something is going on with him.

"What's happened, Ridge?"

"What? Oh, nothing," he says calmly, rubbing his palms together.

"Then why won't you look at me?"

As much as I hate to say it, I do care about Ridge. This entire time, he's been the one to tell me anything worth knowing, even if it jeopardies his relationship with his father and The Razors.

"I can't," he whispers, looking out my window. "I can't stand to look at you."

"Why not?" I ask, sounding hurt.

I clear my throat, hoping he doesn't hear how this is affecting me. I don't want to call him a friend, but that is what he's beginning to be, even after everything.

"Because," he starts, "I can't comprehend how much pain we've all caused you. When you saved Hunter, I realised that you truly are a fucking amazing person who doesn't deserve this at all. You gave up your freedom to bring my dying brother back here. You didn't think about saving yourself," he says, finally looking at me. The pain in his eyes is almost unbearable to see.

Tears well up in my own eyes, but I quickly look down. "I could never leave someone to just die, Ridge. Not even a Razor."

"I wish things could have been different," he continues, sliding down to sit on the floor. His back is against his wall as he sprawls his legs out in front of him.

"How so?"

"I wish we could have met under better circumstances. If this was a different dimension, I could actually see us being friends. If we weren't associated with rival gangs or had angry drug-dealing fathers, I think you would have been a pretty cool chick to know."

"Better grab the time machine then," I smile, "because I'd like to find that other dimension right about now."

We lapse into silence for a while. "What else would you change? If you could start over, I mean."

"Well," he says, sighing, "I'd handle my relationship with Stacey better. I wouldn't pretend I didn't love her anymore because my dad told me I couldn't see her again. In fact, I'd probably go all the way back to before I was born and tell my mother to sleep with someone else so that he wasn't even my dad in the first place."

"Wait," I say, suddenly tensing. "Go back a second. You were forced to break up with Stacey? I always thought it was mutual."

"No," he mumbles. "It definitely wasn't mutual. Everything was going great until three months before we broke up."

"Why? What happened?"

"My dad happened," he says, drawing his knees up to his chest, resting his arms on top of them as he balls his hands into fists. "Three months before we broke up, he found out about us being together. He didn't like the fact that I was dating someone outside of the gang. He also didn't like that I was dating someone so head-strong like Stacey. He wants me to be with someone who is willing to sit around and be a regular house-wife, while I go out dealing drugs and shooting at people. He pretty much threatened me, and I was scared he would hurt her."