Jeff wants her home. They’re throwing a very public party. I pinch the bridge of my nose as the puzzle pieces click together. “You’re using tonight to see if anyone will make a grab for Emily.”
“We’ll have people on her,” Eli says. “We’re considering this a trial run of what will happen when she returns home.”
When she returns home... It’s the second time he’s said it and each time my heart clenches with the words. “Does the Riot know Emily’s here? The truth this time.”
There’s silence and when no one answers I search my father’s face. When he won’t look away, I have my answer of yes. I suppress the urge to scream. Even when I’m patched in, unless I’m on the board, there will be things that will never be my business.
“If they know she’s here, if you think it’s possible the Riot will make a grab for her, why send Emily home? Isn’t she safer where we can protect her?”
“Not your place to question my decisions,” Eli says in a low warning. “Especially when it involves my daughter.”
I nod and Eli nods back that he’s cool with me even though I spoke out of turn. Eli loves Emily. He would never intentionally put her in harm’s way.
My arms flex as I straighten. “I got her back. She trusts me.” She cares for me. “We’re friends.” I’m in love with her. “She won’t question me being stuck to her side.” As long as she doesn’t mind me stripping her naked in my mind the entire time. “No one will touch her.” And if they do I will snap their fucking necks.
The man who’s been my surrogate grandfather sizes me up. “You screwed up a few weeks ago when Eli asked you to watch over Emily.”
“I did.” When I stood in the same spot I am now, the gravity of what I had to lose almost crushed me. But now that I’m in love with Emily the reminder causes a lethal combination of fear and anger to swirl into a storm. “I swear I’ll never let her or Eli down again.”
“We know, son. All of us have watched you over the past few weeks and you’ve done everything we’ve asked you to do and more. You’ve stayed by Emily’s side, kept her safe and somehow gained her trust. Through that she’s spent time with Olivia and—”
“With me,” interrupts Eli. The sincerity of his words hits me hard. Fuck, this meeting is gaining momentum.
“She’s spent time with most of us and that’s because you’ve made her comfortable,” says Cyrus. “You’ve sacrificed weeks of your life to protect someone we care about and we want you to know we’ve noticed.”
I scan the room, hunting for the blank cut. This moment is so huge that I redistribute my weight. This is Christmas morning times a million. But then the blood rushes out of my head and I all but sway on my feet. I’m lying to them. They’re about to make me a prospect and they have no idea that I spent the night in bed with their daughter...their granddaughter.
Cyrus stands, then lays both of his hands on my shoulders. “We’re patching you in tonight.”
The world zones out. “What?”
“We took a special vote and the club agreed to consider the past month your prospect period. Tonight, you’re becoming a brother of the club.”
A raw emotion builds inside me and I hook my thumbs into my pockets as I try desperately to keep my shit together.
“Jonathan,” Cyrus says in a low tone and it’s not the president of the club talking to me, but the man who taught me to fish at four. The man who drilled it into my brain to hold the door open for a girl. The man who helped care for me when my own parents couldn’t.
Cyrus’s arms close in around me and mine do the same to him, careful not to touch his patch. The hug is strong, tough and intense on both ends and when we let go the entire room is on their feet. Each man waiting for his turn to embrace me and one by one I embrace them back.
Emily
NO ONE IN the crowded kitchen mentions Olivia’s seizure, not even Olivia. There’s a ton of women in here. All shapes. All sizes. Most of them wear a black vest similar to the Reign of Terror, except there’s no skull with flames bursting out of the eye sockets, but a simple patch that reads Terror Gypsies.
Olivia sits at the table next to me and her job appears to be carrying me through most of the conversation and introducing me to so many people that there is no way I’ll remember their names.
“...as it turns out Emily is a bit of a hustler in a game of poker,” says Olivia, and as always multiple women insert their multiple comments. It’s not bad, it’s that there’s a lot of women, with a lot of opinions, and I’ve never been in a room with so much chatter or so many people at one time for so long.
There’s a consistent pounding in my head and I’m attempting to smile through it. I crack another hard-boiled egg and pick the shell off. “For real, who eats this much potato salad?”
The women laugh and maybe they missed I wasn’t joking. After a shower and a fast change into clothes and a touch-up of cosmetics, I was whisked by Olivia into kitchen duty.
Some lady with extremely long bleached-blond hair sweeps the pile of egg shells in front of me into a garbage can. “Honey, those boys can eat more than you can imagine. I’m Peach, by the way.”
Like I have with the other women who have introduced themselves to me since I arrived, I accept her quick and, for me, awkward hug. “Nice to meet you. I’m Emily.”
And like everyone else, she responds, “I know, and welcome home.”
The living room has been rearranged and in it, next to the window, is a hospital bed. I hate that it’s there and, like the seizure Olivia had, everyone appears to ignore it. What I can’t ignore? “How is it that everyone knows me?” I quietly ask Olivia.
“Everyone knows Eli had a daughter,” she responds in kind. “And they know that this is their one opportunity to meet you.”
A fortysomething redhead named Pony makes a fuss over a photo on her phone and most everyone heads her way to look. I lean over to Olivia. “Does anyone have a normal name?”
Sure, I caught on early that the guys in the club have nicknames. Even Cyrus and Eli have nicknames sewn on their vests and most of the people call them those names.
“The women have road names,” she answers. “Just like the club has them.”
I’m more methodical as I peel off the shell from the current egg and weigh asking if Oz’s name really is Oz, but I keep the question to myself. I glance over at Olivia and she’s studying me. Her dark eyes are soft. So soft that I can see a hint of sadness in them.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“This is how it was supposed to be. You here with me. Being a part of this. This should have been your normal and I should always have been your grandmother.”
There’s this pain and it cuts right through me. Past my heart, past my soul. I place the egg on the table and slide my hand over hers. “I don’t want you to die.”
That’s the moment when the entire room had fallen silent. The moment when everyone had been shifting away from their current conversation and had yet to begin another. There’s wetness in my eyes and Olivia moves her hand so that she’s now offering me comfort with the slightest squeeze.
“I have always loved you,” she says.
I clutch her hand back because I think I love her, too. What causes this wound in my chest to bleed is how I learned to care for someone and now I have to let them go. It feels too cruel, too mean. My gut twists and my face contorts with the agony.
She holds my hand tighter. “It’s okay, Emily. I know.”
“It doesn’t seem fair...to have just now met you when you’ve always been here. It’s just...” No other words. “Not fair.”
“Death never is, and most of the time neither is life.” She pauses. “Emily, it’s not enough for you to care about me. I want you to care for your father, my son.”
I’m shaking my head because I don’t want to hear an
ything else, but because it’s Olivia and she does whatever she desires she continues, “Do you know why Eli has all those stars tattooed on his arm?”
My muscles lock up as I become paralyzed by the silent stares of the room. I’m crippled by this moment.
“There’s one star for each year of your life. The shaded-in ones are the years that he saw you. The ones that have no color represent the years that his life was empty without you. You want to make a dying woman happy? Don’t let him go another year tattooing an empty star on his arm.”
My windpipe constricts and even if I could talk I wouldn’t know what to say. The back screen door in the kitchen opens and the creak fills the deafening void of silence.
A clearing of a throat and I force myself to forget the other women and the occasional hand that lifts to wipe at tears as I meet the eyes of my cousin Chevy.
He and I, we haven’t interacted much. Haven’t said more than a “hi” or a “bye.” He’s around Oz a lot and he also comes over daily to check on Olivia. I never showed an interest in him because he never showed an interest in me, but Oz is right. I never fully engaged.
“Hi, Chevy.” My voice is raspy and rough, but I need to try.
His eyes flicker between me and Olivia and he nods at me as if he senses all the chaotic words in my mind that I don’t have the ability to speak. “Hey, Emily.”
“How are you?” I say, and I hear how awkward it sounds, but how else do I start?
Reminding me of Eli, he pulls on his earlobe, but there are no plugs in Chevy’s ears. “Good. You?”
I’m a freaking basket case. “I’m doing well.”
He clears his throat again. “Some of us are going to be hanging out together once dinner begins.” Chevy tosses his hand in the air to indicate a direction that I don’t quite comprehend. “We’ll be on the other side of the yard.” A yank at the neckline of his shirt. “People our age. Me, Oz, Razor, Stone, a few others. Maybe Violet.”
Oz, maybe Violet...a moment where I could get to know my cousin... “Sounds good.”
“Eli said I have her for an hour.” Olivia saves us both from dying of trying too hard. “My eggs aren’t done being shelled and I have five more minutes.”
The women part as Chevy strides through the kitchen. He’s tall and broad-shouldered and most of them have to press against the wall or fridge to let him pass. There’s a kind spark in his dark eyes as he inclines his head toward the yard. “I’ll finish cracking the eggs while you go get some fresh air. Make sure you find Eli, though.”
Pressure on my hand from Olivia confirms she approves. I could hug Chevy for rescuing me from this uncomfortable moment, but instead I smile.
He flicks his chin in understanding and the entire room groans and starts harassing him the moment he pops one of the hard-boiled eggs into his mouth.
I walk out the door and lift my face to the sky. Who would have guessed that I could learn to like so many people—especially people who are so different from me?
Oz
EMILY SLIPS OUT the back door to the kitchen and I glance around. The men are either hanging in the clubhouse, setting up tables and chairs in the yard or manning the grills full of hot dogs and hamburgers. Behind the house, there’s no one.
Emily pauses when she sees me then flashes this soft smile. I like that look on her. I’d die a happy man if I saw that expression every day.
I stride over to her and link our hands together. “Do you trust me?”
“Yes,” she says, not missing a beat.
I walk backward, gently pulling her with me. She follows, but her smile fades as her eyes drift over my shoulder to the woods that I’m leading her to. “Oz.”
“Not far in,” I say as if I’m coaxing a wounded animal to abandon its hiding spot. “Just far enough to where I can kiss you.”
She brightens at kiss, but then she assesses the sky. It’s evening and with it being the middle of summer, the sun still shines from the west. Blue sky above. A scattered white cloud here or there.
An edge of panic tightens her features, but Emily still walks with me, her hand grasping mine as if she’s floundering off a ledge. As I guide her past the tree line her chest begins to flutter at a faster rate and sweat breaks out on her palm.
I rub my thumb over the top of her hand and keep my eyes locked on hers. “Have you ever jumped into a pile of leaves?”
Emily shakes her head no as we ease through the trees. Her face loses color and I stop us when she visibly quakes.
I inch into her personal space and then gently back her up until she’s supported against the trunk of a tree. Because I can’t help myself, I rest a hand on her hip then step near enough so that our bodies are touching. This is how it’s meant to be—me this close to her.
“Don’t be scared,” I say. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“I know. It’s just hard.” She raises my hand to her chest and lust surges through me as she presses my palm to her heart. Damn, her skin is soft and the tissue beneath my hand is even softer. “I need to calm down or my heart is going to explode.”
Because I’m not intent on taking Emily’s virginity on the floor of the forest, I lower our hands. “In the fall, there’s a million red, orange and yellow leaves. In the winter, it’s real quiet and when it snows you can see animal tracks. Chevy, Violet, Razor and I used to play back here all the time. The tree house we built as kids sits farther back.”
“Were you close with Violet once?”
“Yeah. She created these elaborate hand signals for us to use while we were playing hide-and-seek or capture the flag. She’s the one that convinced us to hang that.” I tip my chin to the right and Emily tracks my gaze to a rope hanging off a huge oak.
“You guys are obsessed with ropes,” she says.
I chuckle. “Every fall we make the biggest pile of leaves you can imagine. So huge that it’s a mountain. We use the rope to jump into the pile. I’ve never invited anyone to do it with us before and I decided that when we do it this year, I’d like my girl to be there.”
I skim my knuckles along her cheek and she leans into me. Good God, she’s the most amazing creature I’ve come across. “What do you say, Emily? Will you come back to Snowflake this fall and jump with me into some leaves?”
She sucks in her bottom lip. “I’m your girlfriend?”
I tuck her silky hair over her shoulder and drop my head so that my lips brush hers. “If you’ll have me.”
“Yes.”
Because Emily is a mixture of bold and innocent, her lips meet mine in a rush then slow as they continue to move. Her hands delicately glide along my shoulders and into my hair. A hypnotic action that draws me in. Each of her fingertips are hot on my skin, her lips sweet to taste, her scent engulfing my senses. My hands drift to her thighs and the memories of the rhythm Emily and I shared last night in my bed circle in my brain.
Heat races in my blood and Emily slides her leg against mine. The urge is to lift her and kiss her until I’m dizzy. Kiss her until our clothes are off. Kiss her until the only thing left in the universe is us.
A booming laugh echoes into the woods and Emily immediately turns her head away from me. We’re both panting and it takes every ounce of self-control not to kiss the patches of red skin forming along her neck.
She flattens her palms on my chest and I step back while lacing her fingers with mine. “They’re patching me in tonight.”
“I heard. That’s amazing.”
It is. “Will you do me a favor?”
“What?”
A part of me sinks. Odds are she’ll hate this. “I’m going to be distracted tonight and I won’t be by your side when you head into the house later. The clubhouse is going to get crazy and I want to know you’re safe. Promise that once you go in, you’ll stay in.”
“You are the millionth person to tell me I’m not allowed out of the house after eight.” There’s an annoyed set to her lips that causes me to stroke my thumb against her mouth and I chuckle when she jerks her head away. She’s not searching to be pacified.
“I’m starting to get insulted,” she bites out.
“Prepare yourself,” I say. “Eli will probably tell you, too.”
“Super. Is there anything else you need to discuss before a giant hole appears at my feet and swallows me up?” She’s kidding, but I don’t miss how her fingers tighten in mine.
“I know you prefer not to lie, but me and you...it’s going to be a lot for people to digest. Eli entrusted me with you and if he had known that this—” I rock our joined hands “—would happen, he never would have picked me. He trusted me to protect you and not to break his trust by getting emotionally involved. I’ve been thinking nonstop about this, and I’m going to tell Eli and Cyrus you’re my girl, but I’d like to wait until after I’m patched in.”
Emily pales out. “If they know now, you think they’ll keep you from being a part of the club?”
“I don’t know.” Guilt festers within me. I don’t want to lie to Eli, Cyrus or the club, and I don’t want to make Emily a secret. On the ride back here I’d thought about talking to Eli this evening, but I wasn’t expecting to be patched in and I sure as hell wasn’t expecting that Olivia wouldn’t live long enough to see the ceremony. If we push this off—if I tell Eli tonight and he decides to wait until he can digest that I’m in love with his daughter—Olivia might miss this moment and I’ll miss knowing that she was there.
“If you’re uncomfortable with waiting, I’ll tell Eli now. I’ll tell him I have feelings for you that I want to pursue, but otherwise I’m asking for you to give me tonight and then tomorrow, I’ll tell him everything.”
“Is that what’s happened?” A spark of humor lights up her eyes. “You have feelings you want to pursue?”
I frame her face with both hands, letting my fingers tunnel to the roots of her hair. She’s so beautiful it hurts. “I’ve already fallen for you, Emily, but Eli and Cyrus are real protective of you. This is going to shock the hell out of them. Besides...”
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