Nowhere But Here (Thunder Road #1) (4 page)

Reminding myself that I’m here for Mom, I squeeze through the mob. Eli stares at the body. The body I’m trying desperately to avoid, but it’s kind of hard to so I focus on my biological father.

He doesn’t seem to be upset. He’s not crying or anything, but it’s not really Eli, either. His hands rest in his jeans pockets and his typical grin doesn’t grace his face. He appears...thoughtful.

Until he does something that makes me shiver. He touches her. The dead body. My grandmother. The one I’ve never met. Eli gently readjusts the blue scarf covering her hair, or where her hair would have been. Oh, God...cancer.

What’s odd—other than that he’s willingly touching a dead person—is that the casket is open. Completely open. Legs and all. Weird. Very weird. Now that I’m looking, I take a deep breath and permit myself to study the woman that brought me to the outskirts of nowhere.

My grandmother is dressed in blue jeans and a white silk sleeveless top. A sad rush of air escapes my lips. She’s young. A lot younger than I expected. Why this surprises me, I have no idea. Mom and Eli were young when they conceived me. Teenagers still in high school.

I hurt for Eli. I’ve never lost someone I was close to. He must have loved her and she’s dead. Gone. I’d die if I lost Grandma or Gramps or Mom or Dad. “I’m so sorry.”

His head whirls in my direction and my dark eyes stare back at me. “Emily?”

Yeah, I forgot. This visit is unexpected because he didn’t answer his phone. “Hi.”

He’ll say “how are you,” I’ll say “fine,” and we’ll be done with conversation for the year.

Eli flicks out his arm, pulls me closer to the casket and him, lifts me off the floor and hugs the air out of me. “How did you know? What about school? Does Meg know you’re here?”

Wow. A lot of questions in a short timespan. He kisses the side of my head and shakes me from side to side like a rag doll. My leg bumps into the side of the coffin and I swallow a dry heave. “Um. Dad, it’s over and duh.”

“What?” he asks, still hugging and shaking me.

I pat his shoulder and my nonverbal put-me-down works. The moment my feet hit the ground, his hands go to my shoulders as if the only way to confirm I’m here is by physical contact.

“You sent Dad the obituary, school’s done and I wouldn’t go anywhere without telling Mom.”

“You have no idea how much this means to me,” he says. His head jerks back and he squints. “Did you say obituary?”

“It means a lot to me, too,” says a woman’s voice to my side.

I scream. And scream again. And it doesn’t stop. I can’t make it stop. It’s one long, agonizing scream, and I’m tripping over myself to get away. It’s not just hysterics. It’s my mind ripping in two. Into pieces. Multiple pieces. It’s my worst nightmare.

The dead woman. She’s sitting up and blinking and the scream stops for a moment as my body forces in air and the next sound is a sob. I must have hit a wall, because I can’t go back any farther and I need to get back. I need to get away and run. Run as far as I can.

But I can’t move to the side, either. I’m trapped! Now it’s getting out of the coffin. One leg after another. It’s climbing out and moving in my direction. Hands out. Head swaying from side to side and it’s saying something, but I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want it to touch me.

“No!” It’s the first word I can articulate, but it’s hoarse and slurred through the sobs.

“It’s okay.” It’s Eli. He’s behind me and I realize I’m not against a wall. Eli’s arms have locked me against him. “She’s not dead, Emily. She’s not dead. Stay back, Mom.”

Two feet from me, it halts its advance. The arms slowly drop to its sides. “I’m sorry. I thought you knew.”

I’m struggling, though I didn’t know it until now. A monster wouldn’t sound so nice and feminine. I press back against Eli, not trusting what I’m seeing. His arms hold me—a reassuring hug to confirm he’s on my side. It glances behind me to Eli.

“Emily,” says Eli, “this is your grandmother, Olivia. Mom, this is Emily.”

I suck up the snot in my nose, but I can’t end the tears. They’ll keep coming until I can understand that my mind is still intact. She smiles and it reminds me of Eli’s smile, but hers is a little hesitant. “Let’s take this somewhere a little more private.”

I clutch Eli’s hand and a blast of heat races along my body. She stares at me. I stare at her and as I attempt to respond, dizziness disorients me, and warmth rushes from my toes to my head. My mouth opens and the pathetic breakfast I ate on the plane lands squarely on Olivia’s shoes.

Oz

“EMILY FREAKING OUT—
that was some funny shit.” Chevy bites into the mammoth ham sandwich he created from the meat tray Mom prepared for the party. Except for me and Chevy, the kitchen area of the funeral home is empty. We sit at the table while everyone else attempts to decipher what the hell is going on.

Only a handful of us know why Eli’s posted guards outside and inside every entrance and is allowing no access in or out. The funeral home is on disaster-area shutdown and if it wasn’t for Cyrus telling me to follow the long-lost daughter, I wouldn’t have had a clue that Emily has returned to Snowflake.

Eli’s real secretive about Emily and this surprise visit must be his worst nightmare, especially with the shit going down with the Riot. The next few hours ought to be interesting.

“Ahhh!” Two young kids race through the kitchen with their hands raised in the air. “Dead person. Dead person.”

Chevy laughs, then chokes on the sandwich, coughing into his elbow. Now that’s some funny shit.

While I should be concerned he’s choking to death, I’m more worried about the dark shadows under his eyes. The kid was up early running routes with his coach before the wake. Football and motorcycles are the boy’s life. Chevy’s an all-American boy with his dark brown hair, brown eyes and love of apple pie and football. That is, if Yankee Doodle went to town riding on a Harley.

I slap his back much harder than needed and he nearly spits out the sandwich. Chevy drinks from a longneck he swiped from a cooler. “Guess Emily thought Olivia was dead.”

“You think?”

Sneakers scuffle against the linoleum floor and Chevy and I nod our heads in greeting to the fourteen-year-old standing red-faced flustered near the table. Brandon’s a tall kid, fire-red hair like his older sister and as lanky as they come. More feet and height than he is muscle and he gets uncomfortable around people. We don’t care how he acts because he’s part of our non-blood family.

He blinks a lot then rubs his eyes.

“Contacts, Stone?” I ask. Good guess since those big, black, thick-rimmed glasses are MIA.

Chevy and I, along with another good friend of ours, Razor, nicknamed Brandon “Stone” when he turned fourteen last month. Some dickhead teenager who’s my age jumped Brandon as a birthday gift. Even though he was beat to hell, Brandon never shed a tear. That kid, he’s solid stone. The guy who gave Stone an ass-whipping—he cried after justice was served.

Stone shoves his hands into his pockets and blinks hard twice. “Eli bought them for me last week. What do you think?”

Chevy scans him as if he’s honestly mulling over an answer. Chevy and I, we dedicate every second with this kid to building him up. “I think Oz and I are going to have to give you the birds and bees talk sooner rather than later. Here’s the condensed version—cap it before you tap it.”

The kid’s neck flushes pink and he scratches his chin twice in that fucked up way of his when he’s nervous, but grins. Stone’s dad was a member of the club and worked for the business. He died in a motorcycle accident and since then the club takes care of Stone, his mother and his older sister, Violet, even though Violet is determined to extricate the club from her family’s life.

“You look good,” I confirm. Stone’s smile grows as he focuses on the ground. The kid is awkward as hell, but he’s one of ours. The club will always have his back. “You’re going to hang with us this summer, right? We need you on our team.”

His eyes widen. “You’re going to let me play football? On your team?”

The way Chevy eyeballs me asks the same question. Football on Sundays is the way we like it—blood-and-guts rough.

“You’re fourteen,” I answer both of them. “You’re a man now, and, yeah, I want you on my team.”

Chevy nods his understanding. He gets that I have the urge to protect and help people younger than me.

“Cool.” Stone goes to readjust the glasses that always slid down his nose and his hand twitches when he discovers them missing. “Who’s the girl that freaked out?”

Chevy and I share a glance. Family rule: no one outside a select few can discuss Emily. We don’t bring her up and no one else is allowed to know she exists. Because Olivia practically raised me for the first few years of my life, I’m part of the McKinley inner circle and know more than most when it comes to personal family business. But Stone is searching to feel like family and with Violet in his ear telling him we aren’t, I make an executive decision. “She’s someone who means something to Eli.”

Stone trembles as he realizes I told him something serious. “That’s Emily?”

“Never said that, but regardless of what you think, keep it to yourself.”

“Olivia and Eli don’t appreciate people discussing her,” Chevy warns. “Even in meaningless conversation.”

Chevy and Emily are cousins. The Emily situation is one of the sole reasons I’m glad I’m not blood-related to the McKinleys. Emily’s mother is a traitor and because of how Emily constantly pushes Eli away, I consider her a traitor, too.

“Is she staying?” Stone asks.

Truth? Stone hit on a question that neither Chevy nor I will dare to answer. Stone’s a part of us through the club, but only the McKinleys are allowed info on Emily. Though I’m not genetically a member, I’m an honorary McKinley so I’m more informed than most, but in the end, I’m still in the dark. Emily is this family’s dirty little secret.

“Where’s your sister?” Chevy asks like he doesn’t care about the answer, but unfortunately, he does. The two of us got wasted last night and picked up two girls in an attempt to extract Violet from his brain. We both got laid and a hangover, but it didn’t help his broken heart.

“She’s...uh...well, Violet said...that she wants to go to Louisville today and she wants me to go with her and since it’s such a long drive she had stuff she needed to do at the house—”

“Louisville’s over an hour away,” Chevy presses. “Why does she need to go there?”

Stone spirals into uncomfortable muscle spasms.

“Tell her to stay out of Louisville.” Chevy’s tone is demanding now. “There’s something going down between the Riot and the Reign of Terror and we don’t need trouble.”

The Riot’s based in Louisville and it’s not where any of us should be. We aren’t the type to run from a fight, but with the club’s focus on Olivia, our resources are split. We don’t need anyone associated with the Terror to take stupid chances.

“Tell her to go to Lexington,” Chevy continues. “Or if she’s so damned bent on going to Louisville, tell her to wait until I can go with her.”

Because Violet can’t remove her head from her ass, her younger brother is now dealing with the guilt of her selfish decisions. I tighten my fist, trying to squeeze away the sharp surge of let down and pissed off.

Growing up, Violet, Chevy, Razor and I were sibling-close and now...she treats us like dirt. Even on a day that’s precious to Olivia. I passed up walking in graduation because the funeral home conceded and let us have a party. They said if we were going to do it, it was now or never.

Stone’s still stuttering out whatever pathetic crap Violet forced him to memorize and Chevy goes in for the deflection. “Hey, Stone.”

Stone squints at Chevy. In a smooth motion, Chevy waves his open palms in the air, claps them together and in a twitch of his fingers produces a daisy. My eyes automatically flash to the now empty vase on the table.

Chevy’s been doing sleight of hand shit since we were kids. “Give this to your sister and tell her we missed her.”

Meaning Chevy misses her. Stone takes the flower and his eyes glow. “That’s cool. Will you teach me?”

I wink at Stone. “Girls don’t go for guys who do magic. If a guy relies on sad shit like that it means he’s got no game.”

Chevy snorts. “Tell that to the girl who let me in her pants last night. Stick with me, Stone, and the world will be ours to dominate and control.”

“No, Mom.” Eli busts into the kitchen with Olivia hot on his heels. His stride is wider than normal, indicating he’s upset or pissed. I’m going with a combination of both. “I’m calling Jeff after she calms down to find out what’s going on. Then and only then will I bring her over to see you and Dad. Not everyone in the damn place.”

Chevy gets up, reaches around Eli and dumps his trash. “Where’s Emily?”

“In the bathroom with the funeral director.” Olivia has a hop to her step that makes me smile. The past week has been rough on her. So rough she wasn’t sure she could last the whole party. But now there’s color in her cheeks.

“You know Meg will make her leave. Meg thought I was dead. This was a pity offering. Let’s take her up on it. Get Emily a drink, give her a second to collect herself then bring her out to meet her family.” She motions to us. “Don’t you want to meet Emily?”

The girl’s my kind of gorgeous, no question: sexy, beautiful dark hair and eyes like a doe’s. Gotta admit, her curves turned me on and that dress she wore sealed the deal. It clung to her in all the right ways, but what was smoking was the way she wore it. Mysterious. Classy. Never seen anyone from Emily’s world walk up to the Reign of Terror as if they didn’t have a single fear.

But Emily is bad news. She’s been a nonstop thorn in this family’s side and has continually caused the people I love to bleed. Her being here will rupture already vulnerable arteries.

“No.” Chevy, as always, preaches the truth. “I don’t want to meet her.”

Olivia points at Chevy. “For that answer, you’re tilling my garden and spreading compost to get ready for tomato planting.”

“Hell,” Chevy mutters.

“Hi, Olivia,” Stone says quietly. “I’m really enjoying your wake.”

Olivia touches her fingers to her lips. Twenty bucks she didn’t notice him, otherwise she probably wouldn’t have spoken so openly. She reaches out and pushes Stone’s overgrown hair away from his eyes. “There’s something different about you. What is it?”

Stone peeks at Eli, who stands behind Olivia beaming like a proud papa.

“Contacts, ma’am.”

“Well, I love them, and don’t ma’am me. You know better than that. Why don’t you go find Cyrus for me? I need to talk to him after I get done grilling Eli. And Stone, remember, what’s said in my house, stays in my house.”

He beelines it out of the kitchen into the thick crowd in the hallway. Once Stone’s gone on the hunt for Olivia’s husband, she returns to hammering her son. There’s no question of kicking us out—Olivia has always talked openly in front of me and Chevy because she considers us her flesh and blood, too. “She’s my granddaughter. I want the chance to meet her. Talk with her. Get to know her. Meg will never allow that if she knows I’m alive.”

“As I said, once she calms down, I’ll bring her to the house. I don’t like the idea of her being here.” He drops his voice. “It’s too wide-open. Too many eyes.”

“A few minutes here won’t hurt,” pleads Olivia. “A half hour tops. If you leave, you’ll have to tell her father. He’ll tell Meg I’m alive and then I’ll lose my chance.”

“You’re telling me what you want and I’m telling you what I can give you.” Eli rummages through the two-liters, continually picking up the Sprites only to come up empty each time. “Damn leeches drank everything dry.”

He goes to pull his wallet out of his back pocket and his face turns an unusual shade of crimson. “Chevy.”

My best friend tosses Eli’s wallet back.

“Do it again and I’ll nail you to the wall, got it?” threatens Eli.

“It’s compulsive.” Never met a guy that can pick any pocket clean like Chevy. “Besides, I always give it back.”

Eli checks his wallet and when he’s certain everything’s inside he yanks out a couple dollars. “Oz, there’s a vending machine across the street. Go get Emily a Sprite. After that, help Cyrus keep this place contained. If they aren’t associated with the Reign of Terror, throw their asses out. With Emily here and the shit going on with the Riot, I want this placed locked down.”

“Dammit, Eli!” This gains everyone’s attention. A lull falls over the once boisterous conversations in the hallway. Olivia hasn’t raised her voice like that in months.

She continues in a whisper. “She’s my granddaughter. My granddaughter.”

Olivia thumps her fist against her chest each time she says
granddaughter
. Both Chevy and I shoot to our feet, but it’s Eli that catches her before she sways too far.

My heart beats wildly and my throat constricts. I don’t understand what the hell is happening inside me, but I know what’s happening inside Olivia. She’s dying and there’s nothing any of us can do to stop it.

Eli hugs his mother. “We’ll go in after we get you something to eat.”

I move because it hurts too bad to stay still. “I’ll get her the Sprite.” Though I don’t know why. It’s Emily’s fault that Olivia is upset. I wish Emily had remained the illegitimate daughter that disappeared and never returned.