Nowhere But Here (Thunder Road #1) (34 page)

Oz

EMILY SLOWLY RISES
from her chair. Do I remember what Eli and I talked about? Not sure I could forget and I’m catching on that I made a promise too fast.

“Meg was right about me, Oz,” Eli says. “And I lost everything in my life that was important over it. Be more of a man than I was. You make the decisions that I didn’t. Do you understand me?”

My heart is picking up speed and resolve turns into steel in my veins.

Eli lifts his chin as he addresses the head of the Riot. “You’ve wanted an eye for an eye, we made an agreement, and I broke the rules. You can take what’s important to you now.”

I pop my neck to the side to stop from throwing myself in front of him. I don’t know what deal was reached fifteen years ago. I don’t know what agreement was struck last week. But I know that the deal he’s striking now involves his life in exchange for them staying away from Emily.

As sadness and anger pour through me, I begin walking across the room. One foot in front of another. I made a promise. I made a promise and I’m going to keep it. Tears are pooling at the bottom of Emily’s eyes and she’s already grabbed on to Eli. There’s no way she understands what’s going on, but it doesn’t require a master’s degree to figure out it’s not good.

I clutch Emily’s hand and she plants her feet firmly next to Eli. “What’s going on? We’re going to leave, right? All of us, right now. We’re going to leave.”

Eli kisses her forehead then lowers his head until he’s eye level with Emily. “I love you. I have always loved you and your mother. Now, you need to go.”

Emily’s eyes go wide, too wide, and I shove away all the fear, all the pain at what I’m about to lose, and keep the promise I made. I wrap my arms around Emily’s waist and I lift her off the floor. She’s fighting. Shouting. Echoing the emotions tearing at me.

I’m dragging her out of the living room, out of the kitchen. On my heels is her uncle, yelling at me to move faster, but I tune him out and focus on Emily’s screams because those are my screams. Her tears are my tears because I don’t know how to save Emily and Eli. I don’t know how to save them both.

Emily

THE DOOR SHUTS
in my face. The man with the scar, my uncle, wore the look of death. He was wielding the judgment that should be reserved only for the Grim Reaper.

Oz’s hold on me is strong and I keep pushing. My feet barely brush the ground as we go down the stairs. My throat is raw. The screaming won’t stop. “Oz, please. We need to go back! We need to go back!”

My mind has fractured and is skipping between fast-forward and slow motion. My face is wet. My vision blurry. There’s a chant in the back of my head that everything’s okay. Everything’s okay, but it’s not. It’s not. Eli didn’t walk out with us. He didn’t leave.

I’m kicking and Oz hesitates, enough that when I thrust back hard my feet land on the ground. Oz grabs my face and he is the only thing in my line of sight. “We have to go.”

“I’ll visit them.” I choke on a sob. “I’ll visit them. I’ll live with them. I’ll write them letters every day. I’ll video chat. I’ll do whatever!”

My heart beats so hard and so loud that breathing is causing pain. Living is causing me pain. “I’ll give them whatever they want!”

“That’s the point!” Oz shouts, and I tremble with the vibration of his voice. He lowers his hands to my hips and I know it’s so he can carry me again. “That’s the point. He’s trying to save you from this.”

I grab on to his shirt and my head is shaking back and forth or maybe I’m just shaking because none of this is happening. “This is real life! This is real life and this does not happen!”

And there’s a pop and my entire body flinches. I’m holding my breath and I realize Oz is, too. He briefly closes his eyes as his fingers tighten on my hips.

“What was that?” I ask.

Oz begins to nudge me to the road, but I dig my feet into the ground. “What was that?!”

A surge of adrenaline pours into my veins. I slip to the right, and as Oz tries to capture me, I duck to the left and run past. He’s yelling my name. Telling me to wait. I don’t. I hit the door and shove through. Past the foyer, into the kitchen and my entire world shatters when I see Eli on the floor. Blood pooling on the white linoleum.

My knees collide to the ground and my hands hover over his lifeless body. He’s dead. Oh, God, he’s dead. My stomach cramps and I bend over with the sharp sting. I never told him that I love him. I never told him that I love him. Oh, God. Oh my God.

“Emily!” the voice is echoed in my head and when I turn, it’s like Oz is sprinting toward me from a long hallway. My face is hot. My body is on fire.

He’s dead. Eli’s dead. My father is dead.

The man who claims to be my grandfather walks in our direction and I lean over Eli as if I can protect him, as if I can bring him back to life.

“Let him go,” he says. “He’s gone.”

“Get away from us!” I touch Eli’s face, angling him toward me. His cheek is still warm, but I hate how his head flops with no resistance. I’m not letting him go.

An arm around my waist and I’m off the floor. It’s Oz and he’s pushing me into his side, trying to force my head into his chest. “Don’t look, Emily. Don’t look.”

My hand brushes against something hard. Something metal. And as Oz continues to drive my cheek into him, I catch sight of movement on the floor. A twitch of a finger. Eli’s alive. He’s not dead, he’s alive.

My fingers wrap around the metal object, I pull it out and the world that was speeding up and slowing down ceases to move. All the shouts, all the chaos is silenced as I point a gun at my uncle.

Oz

IT’S LIKE A
rubber band that’s been stretched and then it snaps with the contract. Emily owns everyone’s undivided attention. She’s shaking. Her body. Her head. More importantly her arms, her hands and the finger that is too close to the trigger.

The safety is off and I regret showing her where it was at.

“Give me the gun, Emily,” I say.

“You don’t understand,” the woman with blond hair pleads. “Eli stole you and your mother from us. He almost killed my son. Eli
agreed
to this!”

A violent shiver racks Emily and fear snakes through me.

“Will you shut the fuck up?” I bite out and then maneuver so that I’m beside Emily. My hand hovers over the gun. “Give me the gun.”

“He’s alive!” She sobs then quickly swallows. “He’s alive.”

My gaze flickers to Eli and hope fights alongside the numb anger crawling within me.

“His finger twitched,” she says.

Bodies do that. They twitch. Sometimes move, but I won’t tell Emily that. “Then give me the gun and trust me to get us out of here.”

She sucks in a breath. Another. And when I place my hands over hers, Emily releases her grip and I take possession of the gun. The moment I’m solely holding it, there’s movement across the room.

I grab Emily and push her behind me and into a wall. With one arm keeping Emily safe, I aim the gun, pointing it at the one person who can call this entire showdown off: the president and Emily’s grandfather.

There’s guns trained on me. The sound of the safeties coming off reverberate in my head. But I don’t look at that threat. I keep my focus.

The president steps into the kitchen and stands next to his son. Sure enough, a gun is in his hand, too. “How are we going to play this, son?”

I am not his son and Emily is not their granddaughter. There’s a trembling inside me even though my outside is rock solid. Eli’s unresponsive with a bullet in his chest. His blood spills onto the floor. The urge is to pull the trigger and to keep firing until we battle our way out.

There’s a fluttering on my shoulder blade. A whisper of a touch that reminds me of what’s important. “I’m going to pick up Eli, carry him out of here and Emily is going to walk out with me. And whatever debt Eli owed you will be considered paid in full.”

The president tips his chin to the gun in my hand. “Don’t think so. We let you go and then you’ll come back here and get your revenge later. I’ve seen it a hundred times.”

“That’s you.” I click the safety into place and lower the gun in front of me. “That’s how you play and I’m going to explain to you the rest of the game. I’m not going to raise my gun and get revenge and you’re going to let us go and if you don’t, I can guarantee there will be cops at your doorstep in the next few minutes.”

He narrows his eyes on me. “You’re going to snitch?”

Violet will if we don’t contact her in fifteen minutes. I held up three fingers—five minutes for each one. “You have your code and we have ours and mine means taking care of my family. The choice is yours, but I’m telling you, I won’t be the person going to prison.”

The president studies Eli. “He’s gone and, if he isn’t, he won’t make it to the hospital.”

“That’s my problem, but as I said, whatever blood has been shed between the two of you, it’s equal now. Eye for an eye.”

We continue to stare at each other and I break the silence. “Clock’s ticking. I can start a countdown until we hear sirens if you’d like.”

He tosses his hand toward the front door. “Get them out of here.”

I’m in motion, yelling at Emily to leave while bending over and shouldering Eli. I grunt when I lift him. He’s dead weight and I pray that Emily is right and that he’s still alive. Emily’s waiting for me at the front door and I shout at her, “Move!”

She does and the two of us are out the door. Eli’s heavy and my knees start to buckle under the weight. “Get the keys!”

I’m still moving as Emily frees them from my pocket. I jerk my head to the truck. “Get the truck. I can’t carry him the entire way.”

I see the flash of panic in her eyes, but she’s running and I’m still going. Each step harder to take. There’s a rev of an engine, a slam of brakes and she throws open the driver’s-side door.

Emily slides over as I pour Eli into the cab. Emily’s dragging Eli in as I shove. I jump in, flooring the gas, while turning the wheel to get the hell out. The front end of the truck cuts across the grass of a yard and then I even it out on the street.

I make a right, the wheels squealing, and I gun it for the expressway. I pass Violet going sixty and in the rearview mirror she starts off after us. When I hit the freeway, I dig out my cell and within one ring, Cyrus answers his phone.

“What the hell is going on?” he growls.

Eli’s head is in Emily’s lap and tears stream down her face. She presses a rag from the floorboard to his chest and she’s whispering to him that she’s sorry. So sorry.

“Is he breathing?” I ask her.

Emily presses her hand harder to the wound. “I don’t want him to be dead.”

Dammit. “I need a hospital, Cyrus. I’m a few miles south of the city, mile marker ten. Eli’s been shot.”

There’s confusion on the other end then Cyrus spits directions at me. I cut over three lanes and take the exit, flooring it, pushing the truck to as fast as it can go.

Emily continues her mantra that she’s sorry, so sorry, and it takes everything for me to not rest my head against the window and weep. Eli’s not moving. He’s not responding. He was dead weight.

“Oz...” Cyrus says. “What happened?”

I’m driving as fast as I can. I’m trying to save his son. I finally understand the land mines my mother had warned me about. “We need a lawyer. We need time before we talk to the cops. I don’t know how we should handle this.”

Eli spent years warping the truth to protect Emily and while there’s a part of me that gets it, there’s another part that wants to shake the hell out of him and tell him that these lies are what killed him.

“You got it. Anything else?”

“No.” I hang up as the hospital comes into view.
Come on, Eli, you can’t die on me now.

Emily

THERE’S NO SOUND
in the room. In movies, there’s a beep to confirm that people are alive. It’s a track of their heartbeat. A reassurance that the person hasn’t died. I detest the silence. There should be a beep.

The other problem I have? The ICU room is tiny. Too tiny. If something huge happens the doctors will need more room to save Eli’s life. They told us that the next few hours are critical and if that’s the case then critical means more room.

I’m curled tight into a ball in the chair. My finger traces the cold skin of Eli’s finger that wears the heart monitor clip. Is it possible that the monitor is picking up my heart and that maybe his heart stopped beating again?

They’ve all been in and out. Olivia. Cyrus. Pigpen. Hook. Oz’s mom and dad plus my own father. It’s been busy as they flutter about and talk to me as if I’m on the verge of insanity. The only one who doesn’t treat me like I’m cracking is Oz.

A sliding of the glass door and Oz enters the room. He has two cups of coffee in his hand. He offers one to me, but I shake my head. I can’t break this connection with Eli. If I keep touching him, then his heart will continue to beat and he’ll stay alive. The monsters under my bed have returned and I’m convinced if I stare then I’ll scare the evil away.

Oz props a shoulder on the wall next to me. Blood stains the sleeve of his T-shirt and he looks like he hasn’t slept in days. “You saved his life.”

“Are you kidding? If I had never visited Mom’s parents then he would never have offered his life for me. I’m not sure how he can forgive me.” I’m not sure how Oz can forgive me.

“Emily, if you had asked me to drive you into Louisville to meet your mother’s parents, I would have. I didn’t know your mom was Riot royalty and it turns out that only a few people did. Your mom being the child of the Riot was the most highly guarded secret in the club. You had no idea what you were walking into.”

I suck in a deep breath. “But he was willing to give up his life for me and that never would have happened if I had stayed in Snowflake.” If I had remained in Florida.

Oz crouches in front of me and sets a hand on my knee. “I’ve been talking to people over the past few hours. Lots of people. Olivia. Cyrus. Your dad. My parents. Eli even opened up before we went into the house. He made me promise I’d tell you the truth.”

My throat burns. “I don’t want to know it anymore.”

He squeezes my leg and repeats, “You saved his life today.”

“I didn’t,” I snap.

“You did,” Oz pushes. “The reason the Riot hasn’t bothered you for fifteen years is because Eli made a deal with them. His life for yours.”

Oz is tired. He’s mixed up. “That’s the deal they made today.”

“When your mom ran and he was awaiting trial, he went to the Riot and told them that they could kill him, get the revenge they wanted, as long as they left you and your mom alone.”

“They obviously didn’t accept it.” Because maybe they had a shred of decency.

“They agreed to leave you and Meg alone as long as Eli stayed away from you. They wanted Eli to be as miserable as they were, living every year like they did, knowing that he had a daughter that hated him.”

Hated him. My entire body flinches. I did worse than hate. I didn’t like or dislike him enough to care.

“Turns out the Riot knew you were staying in Snowflake. Eli and the Riot have been in negotiations the entire time you were here and they made an agreement this week where the Riot, once again, agreed to leave you alone.

“It’s why Eli was hot and heavy about you returning home this week. He knew they were going to be gunning for him and if you hadn’t shown up on their doorstep and put Eli and the Riot in the same room, I guarantee they would have gone after Eli in a situation where no one would have been around to save him.”

“This is too crazy.”

“You don’t break deals with people like them.”

My forehead furrows. He’s just trying to make me feel better. “None of this makes sense. Eli came to see me once a year. That sounds like a violation of the deal.”

Oz releases a ghost of that wicked smile I’ve come to love. “Eli’s never been much of a stickler for details. He knew he was taking a risk and felt selfish for doing it, but he was careful and made sure no one found out.”

“But he asked me to come and stay for two weeks this summer.”

“He loves Olivia almost as much as he loves you. He wanted her to have a chance to know you and he convinced himself that he could make it work so that the Riot stayed in the dark.”

My mind’s a mess. “It still doesn’t make sense. Normal people don’t act like this. Normal people don’t make deals to kill someone or not kill someone in exchange for staying away from their daughter. For real, who does that?”

“They’re a gang. Think about the evening news. An eighteen-year-old stabs a sixteen-year-old. Someone shot their friend, so they shoot one of theirs. The violence continues, it escalates. It’s not normal. It’s not right, but it doesn’t mean that it doesn’t exist. What you witnessed today, all that I’m talking about, that’s what Eli and your mom were trying to save you from—they weren’t keeping you away from a motorcycle club, they were keeping you away from a gang.”

“So if the Riot is a gang, then what is the Terror?”

Oz still wears his vest. The leather across the shoulder is also darkened with Eli’s blood.

“The same thing I’ve been trying to tell you since we met—we’re a brotherhood, a family. Our entire organization is built on respect and the only way you have respect is if it’s built on love. We’re not thugs jockeying for power. We’re a group that supports and doesn’t tear down.

“I won’t paint pretty pictures for you. You’ve seen how we live. It’s different, but different doesn’t mean wrong. Society has their view of normal and we have ours. Being a part of the club means freedom to us. Freedom from what others dictate for our lives.”

The muscles in my neck tighten. “If that’s true, then why were you always doing what they told you to do?”

He lowers his head and a part of me hurts that I pushed him so hard on a day when he saved not only me, but Eli. “Because I thought doing what I was told was what being a part of the club meant...until last night. I get it now in a way I never understood it before. It’s not about following, it’s about respect. Me giving respect, earning it and then getting it back in kind.”

I rake a hand through my hair. Life used to be easy. Life used to be simple. Now, it’s complicated. There’s a knock on the door and I turn. It’s Chevy and he’s carrying a flower. With a flick of his fingers, two more flowers appear.

Respect. Olivia had told me that if I allowed the club in, they would love me—that they would respect me—and Oz is saying that in order to gain the respect, I must give it.

I wave Chevy in and he edges the door open, leans in and offers the flowers to me. I accept them with a smile. He winks, and when he walks away, closing the door behind him, two Reign of Terror vests slide into view.

They’re protecting Eli. Standing by him. They’ll never leave his side. A little bit farther down at the nurses’ station, Olivia harasses a nurse with Cyrus by her side. Beyond them is the waiting room and a sea of black vests. “They’re watching over Eli, aren’t they?”

Oz nods. “And if you let them, they’ll watch over you, too.”

Yes, life used to be simple, but I never had a family like this. “You said that Eli wanted you to tell me something.”

Oz stands and extends his hand to me.

“I don’t want to leave him,” I say.

“You don’t have to, but today seriously fucked me up. If you don’t mind, I want to hold you and convince myself that this nightmare is over.”

I lay my hand in his, and he pulls me up and then settles me onto his lap. He wraps his arms around my waist and I place my head on his shoulder as I reclaim Eli’s hand.

Oz’s heat sinks past my clothes, my skin, even my bones, and it’s comforting my soul. I inhale his dark scent and it’s the first time in hours I feel completely safe.

“Is it a long story?” I ask.

“Epic,” he answers. “The craziest I’ve heard.”

“I thought your job was to prevent me from learning the truth.”

“No,” Oz’s lips whisper against my temple and there’s a flurry of rose petals in my stomach. “My job is to love you.”

Warmth floods my heart and I kiss his neck. I like how he presses me closer to him in response.

“After I tell you, though,” Oz hedges, “I want you to promise me something.”

“What?”

“That you’ll leave here for a few minutes. Eat. Rest. Talk with your dad.”

Panic cramps my stomach at the idea of leaving Eli. “I don’t know.”

Oz’s arms create a protective shelter. “I want you to trust me to watch Eli while you take a break. Trust me to chase your monsters away.”

His words cause my chest to ache while at the same time healing a few of the wounds inside me. “I trust you. I more than trust you. I love you.”

I raise my head and Oz tilts his so that we’re staring at each other. He caresses my cheek as his blue eyes soften. “You were supposed to wait to say that until we had a nice, peaceful calm moment.”

“Well,” I say with a sheepish grin, “if the Terror is my family, I’m not sure those moments exist.”

Oz chuckles and lightly kisses my lips.

“All right,” I say. “Explain it to me.”

“Your mother is the daughter of the Riot Motorcycle Club...”