Nowhere But Here (Thunder Road #1) (28 page)

Emily

IZZY’S PENSIVE AS
she shuts the door to her car. After hearing Oz explain it was me in his bed and after she faded into ghost white when I walked out of his room, Izzy grabbed her car keys and declared she was driving me home. I’m still attempting to figure out if she meant Florida or Olivia’s. She found me half-naked with her son in his bed. I’m betting she’s sending me to Florida.

“I’m sorry,” I say, because I can’t stand the silence any longer.

Izzy’s dressed in blue scrubs. She’s worked third shift this week and when she left the hospital last night she went to Olivia’s, so I’m officially the worst person ever for piling stress on the sleep-deprived. She starts the Ford Focus and the wheel whines as she turns it. The motor doesn’t sound much better. A single crystal hangs from the rearview mirror and it creates small beams of rainbows on my lap.

Izzy flips her long black hair over her shoulder and peeks at me out of the corner of her eye. “Are you in love with my son?”

Yes.
My entire body convulses with the truth. I was falling for Oz before and after what happened last night...it changed me. It changed him. It changed us.

“Shit,” Izzy whispers. “Just shit.”

We hit a pothole and the car dips. Izzy peers in the rearview mirror and I glance at the passenger-side mirror when a motorcycle rumbles behind us. Oz has a folded black-and-white Reign of Terror bandanna across his forehead and his black hair blows wildly in the wind. I tear my eyes away and focus on the rainbows.

“Did you know that if Eli or Cyrus or my husband or any man from the club walked in on the two of you, Oz would be ostracized?”

I sink lower in my seat. God, I’m in love with him. I’ve fallen in love with Oz and I’m costing him his dream.

“Did you know that you’re my goddaughter?” Izzy asks without waiting for my answer.

Like so many other times during the past month, the sensation of running face-first into a wall stuns me. “No.”

“You are.” She concentrates on the road and through the limbs arching over the road, the sunlight bounces on and off her face. “I wasn’t the best godmother at the time, but I loved you. Oz told me about the picture you found and your talk with Olivia, otherwise I wouldn’t bring it up. I need you to hear what I’m saying because I love you and my son.”

She commands my attention like a dropped nuclear bomb. “Okay.”

“Your mother ran from Snowflake for a good reason. She ran to keep you safe and she did an excellent job. Thinking that Olivia died must have completely floored your mom for her to make the mistake of allowing you to return, but it happened and I’m praying that neither you nor my son pay the price.”

Izzy slows the car as we near Olivia’s cabin. “You’re in danger here and I see how my son looks at you, even before I caught the two of you today. He’s falling for you and Oz doesn’t fall. Even if Eli told him that his assignment was over, I doubt Oz would leave your side.”

There’s a buzz filling my ears as I try to comprehend what she’s saying. Stuff about my mom, about how I’m still in danger and about how she
sees
how Oz looks at me. “My dad says I’m safe.”

She places the car in Park and Oz flies past us for the clubhouse. Izzy regards him in the same way my mother used to watch me when I would climb to the highest diving board at the swimming pool. “I wish you weren’t in danger, but you are. And as long as you stay in Kentucky you’re putting a target on my son.”

With a sigh, she faces me. “There has been a gaping hole in this family since you left and I’ve prayed for years for your return, but now that you’re here, I fully understand why your mother had to go. When you go home, tell her that for me and also tell her to never make the mistake of bringing you to Snowflake again. For all of our sakes. You need to go home, Emily. I love you, but I love my son more and I am begging you to not drag him into this mess.”

Oz swings off his bike and he’s immediately on the move toward us, but his dad steps in front of him. A slow dull throb pulses in my head. I rub my temples, and the anger that’s been simmering at my mother for lying to me over this entire fiasco begins to evaporate.

Everyone’s so paranoid, so terrified, that I’m starting to get swept up in the mania. I’ve been here for over a month and the most dangerous thing I’ve experienced is me jumping in water the wrong way.

A loud growl of engines and I suck in a breath when bike after bike, too many to count, race past the car. I press into the seat as a sea of black vests leave the clubhouse and swarm Oz and his father. The newcomers park their bikes and create another layer around them. I can’t spot Oz anymore. Instead, what glares at me are half skulls with fire blazing out of the eye sockets.

“They’re patching Oz in tonight,” Izzy says quietly.

I jolt as if electrocuted. “But he’s not a prospect yet. Oz said that he has to go through that period before he can officially join the club.”

“If it weren’t for me and Olivia insisting that Oz not be allowed to be a prospect until he graduated, Oz would already be through his prospect period and patched in. They took a special vote because of Olivia’s declining health and everyone agreed that she should see him as a member before she passes. They also felt that thanks to the past month Oz has spent watching you, he’s served his time.”

Served his time...with me. I sound like a prison sentence.

“Against anything I’ve wanted,” she says, “Oz has been a prospect of this club for eighteen years. Some things are so inevitable that they don’t need to be made formal.”

Izzy departs the car and I follow her as she goes up the steps of the porch. I blink as Olivia exits the house. The screen door shuts and the yard plummets into silence. Every man honors Olivia as they turn to acknowledge her.

She nods to me as if the last time I saw her she wasn’t in the midst of a seizure and I wasn’t screaming for Oz to help. Her blue scarf covers her head. Her jeans as tight as normal. She has gold dangling earrings that almost touch her shoulder. She wears that black top again that resembles a corset. As always, she’s striking and radiates kick-ass.

But as I step closer to her, there’s a slow deliberateness to her movements. A tiny quiver of her hand and that tremor slowly progresses up her arm. I slide up beside her and ease my fingers underneath hers and she grasps on to me. The slight shake of her body would only have been noticed by someone standing near. She knows this and so do I.

Olivia inclines her head and we walk together on the porch, past my window and the seat Oz has used as a bed for too many weeks. The lone sound in the yard is our footsteps against the wood. Hand in hand we reach the corner of the porch and there’s a part of me that feels self-conscious that everyone stares.

A breeze rushes through the trees. The leaves clap against each other and a few maple helicopters drift to the ground. There are so many men in the yard. Seventy. Eighty. A hundred. So many. Too many. And Olivia and I have their undivided attention.

The wind dies and this moment is too intense with silent expectation. I search the crowd for Oz and when my eyes meet his, he imperceptibly nods at me. The world fades away and, suddenly, I can breathe again.

I wait for Olivia to do whatever it is everyone is expecting her to do, but nothing happens.

“Are you supposed to wave or something?” I whisper. When Olivia raises an eyebrow, I curl my hand and tilt it side to side. “Like the queen does on TV?”

She laughs. The loud one. The one from when we first met that scared the hell out of me and, this time, I can’t help but giggle along with her. She squeezes my fingers, releases them, then cups my face as she leans over and kisses one cheek and then another.

“If I’m the queen, then you’re the princess, and this is your kingdom.”

When she lets go of me, Cyrus calls out, “Reign of Terror!”

“Hoo-ra!” is the answering rumble.

“Reign of Terror!”

“Hoo-ra!”

“Reign of Terror!”

“Hoo-ra, Reign of Terror!”

Someone applauds and the entire yard bursts into noise. Both Eli and Oz are grinning at me. I can’t help the silly and shy smile forming back.

“This is your family,” Olivia says to me. “If you learn to love us then you will forever have our love in return.”

I think I am falling in love and that love would belong to Oz. I search for Oz again and I spot him just as Eli slings an arm around his neck and leads him away from me and into the clubhouse.

“Come on,” Olivia adds. “We have a ton of work to do and not enough time to do it.”

Oz

I TOOK A
quick shower in the clubhouse’s bathroom, changed clothes and now I’m bounding up the stairs to Church. Hook’s at the door and opens it the moment he sees me. This is nothing like the last time I was invited in here. Each man at the table peers at me as I walk in and it’s not with the look they had last time, as if I were a man strapped in the electric chair.

I don’t know what the hell just happened outside with me in the middle of it, but whatever it is, it’s good and I’m walking on air. There’s no doubt I’m becoming a prospect today and odds are I’ll be working for the business, as well.

Cyrus owns the seat at the head of the table and my eyes flicker to Eli, who sits on his right, and then Dad, who sits on his left. Neither of them gives anything away with their blank expressions. I’ve never seen a guy receive his cut before. It’s a private ceremony during Church.

“We’re having a party tonight,” announces Cyrus.

My muscles go stiff. “Where do you want me to take Emily?”

“She’s going to be here for it,” says Eli. “At least until we send the families home.”

It’s club rules: no kid at the clubhouse after eight at night. This brotherhood is family-oriented, but it’s still a motorcycle club and the partying can get fucked up and crazy.

I pop my neck to the side to release some of the tension. I’ll overstep my welcome by speaking out of turn, but this involves Emily and it’s already hard not to lash out like a pissed-off bear. “What about her safety? You said that the Riot was thirty miles north of here last night. And if that’s not an issue anymore, then remember how pissed you were at the funeral home at the idea of people knowing she was around? We bring in strangers and news will spread that your daughter is here.”

That the girl I love is staying here.

The girl I love.

My heart beats hard as the realization plows into me. Last night, I said I was falling, but I was dead wrong. The falling did happen, but it happened over time. Happened without my knowledge. I love Emily. I am in love.

And the girl I love is in danger.

The gun in the holster at the middle of my back grows heavier. Cyrus asked me weeks ago if I had the balls to do what needed to be done. When it comes to protecting Emily, hell yeah, I own a pair.

Cyrus eyes the board and after a few nods from several guys he casts his gaze to Eli.

“The Riot either knows she’s here or they don’t.” Eli shrugs as if he doesn’t care, but there’s something off about his movements. A rigidness that tells me he’s hiding something. “They haven’t made a grab for her since the motel and because of that I think she’s safe. While I love Emily being here, her dad called this week and he wants her back in Florida.”

His words slam into me. “She’s heading home?”

“It’s been over a month. She has a life and it’s time for her to return to it.”

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.