Nowhere But Here (Thunder Road #1) (29 page)

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 anything 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...”

I trail off and Emily’s forehead wrinkles. “What?”

I swallow down the hurt. “Eli said your dad called him. You’re going home soon.”

The bright cheer that had been on her face is replaced by a shadow. “What? But I told Dad on Monday I wasn’t ready to go back yet. I told him I wanted to spend more time with Olivia and Eli said something about going on another weekend trip and—”

“Your mom and dad miss you,” I cut her off. “That’s not a bad thing.”

She throws herself into me, wrapping her arms around my stomach and burying her face in my chest. I rest my chin on her head and squeeze her into me. I’m going to miss this. Having her in my life day in and day out. “I want to make this work, but we have to play our cards right. Are you with me?”

She pulls back and looks up at me. “I don’t want to be a secret.”

“You won’t be. I promise. Let me get patched in tonight and then I’ll have some footing in the club. Trust me, I’ll need it. Eli won’t be happy with me.”

“But he can’t take back your patch because we’re together, can he?”

It’s what I’m banking on. That and I hope Eli will get his shit together sooner rather than later in understanding that I would die for his daughter. I have no doubt Eli will come to his senses on this, but I can’t risk him taking longer than Olivia has to live. “I’m not asking you to lie. I’m asking if we can move slowly.”

“Okay.”

I kiss her forehead and then lead her out of the woods. A foot from the edge of the tree line Emily hesitates. “Is your name really Oz?”

The majority of people in my life think it is. Only a handful of people know my real name. “It’s Jonathan, but Olivia started calling me Oz when I was little and it stuck.”

“Why Oz?”

I watch as a group of guys raise the American flag next to the Terror’s flag on the pole. “Because she said that growing up here, around all this, must be the equivalent of Dorothy being born in Oz.”

Emily smiles and she doesn’t lose the expression when I release her hand, but she does stroll close enough to me that sometimes our hands brush against each other as we walk. We round the cabin and Eli leans against his old pickup and grins when he spots the two of us.

“Eli wants to see you,” I say. “Find me when you’re done and we’ll get some food.”

I wink at Emily and force myself to turn and walk away. By this time tomorrow, I’ll be a full member of the Reign of Terror and one step closer to having her by my side in public.