through hell in order to make prospect. “Do you mind telling me what I’m watching for?”
Eli works his jaw. “The Riot.”
Never thought of Eli as paranoid. My mind races for why the Riot would give a rip about Emily. “The Riot would never step into Snowflake, so how would they know that she’s here?” And why would they care?
“The Riot’s pissed we’re doing security business in Louisville. Even more pissed we won’t give them a cut of our profits because we’re running through their area. Remember what I said to you last night? The Riot can make a business issue personal fast.”
“Yeah, but you think they’ll go after Emily?”
“There’s a scar forming on your father’s head that tells me the Riot is ready for a war, and there are over two hundred people in this building. I can’t risk the chance there’s someone loyal to them here gathering info on us. I wasn’t worried until I saw Emily. We’re strong together as a club. We protect our own, but she’s not one of us and I won’t have them go personal with her. The Riot don’t think straight when they’re mad. They act first and never ask questions later. She’s my daughter and I don’t want her caught up in my shit.”
I nod. This is the guy Eli is—loyal to those he loves. But it’s lost on me why he has this sudden commitment to Emily. He visits her once a year. From what I understand, he never tried for custody, but I’m not going to question my path into the club. He wants me to watch Emily, so I’ll watch Emily. She officially has a stalker.
“Meg will be able to spot a Terror member,” he continues, “so you’ll be driving my truck. If anyone can own the role of teenager out for a joyride who doesn’t give a shit, it’s you.”
From Eli, that’s a high compliment. “Emily will know me.”
“Emily won’t be looking for you, but Meg will be searching for the club.” He digs into his pockets and tosses the keys to his truck to me. “Tail them until she boards the plane. I need to know that my problems with the Riot don’t follow my daughter.”
“Consider it done.” I open the exit door and Eli stops me from walking out into the summer sun.
“Anyone who messes with Emily messes with me,” he adds.
Which means anyone stupid enough to cross paths with her is suicidal. “I got her back.”
Eli smiles like we’ve been chatting about the weather. “You’re a good man, Oz.” And he disappears back inside the funeral home.
* * *
In pleated khaki pants, Emily’s adoptive father, Jeff, paces outside the sidewalk of his motel room talking on his cell. He sports a pair of Aviator sunglasses and holds himself like he’s God. Heard he’s a doctor so he probably thinks he is. I’ve been ordered to maintain my distance, otherwise I would have offered the three of them a ride into Louisville hours ago.
My cell buzzes. Eli’s hourly check-in. What’s going on?
Same thing as the past ten hours. Nothing.
I followed Emily and Jeff here after they left the funeral home. Three hours ago the rental-car company showed and dropped off an SUV. Emily and her parents piled into the rental and I rapped my head against the headrest of the truck when the engine of the SUV wouldn’t turn over.
Since then, Jeff’s bought takeout and talked on his phone. No sign of Emily or her mother. Both have stayed safely inside the motel room.
Buzzing.
I don’t like them staying here overnight. We’re hearing some chatter that the Riot are riding closer than normal, but we don’t have visuals. Don’t like the feel of the situation. Keep vigilant.
Like stalking a girl who hurt Olivia is my definition of a wet dream. Will do.
I toss my cell onto the bench seat and press the balls of my hands to my eyes. Last night’s lack of sleep is catching up. First the private party at the lake with a twelve-pack, Chevy and two blondes more than willing to be on the back of a bike, then the hours waiting for Dad and then the adrenaline rush of all that followed.
I got an hour’s worth of sleep, maybe less, before Eli picked me up to retrieve Dad’s bike. I stretch my legs in the small space against the floorboard and roll my neck. Eli checked flights after it was clear their rental wasn’t moving and confirmed that it would be impossible for them to reach Louisville and still board a flight out tonight.
It’s killing Eli to do nothing, but they haven’t asked for help and they aren’t answering his “benign” texts asking if Emily’s okay and if they arrived in Louisville without issue. Any further contact by him would tip them off that they’re being tailed and Eli’s adamant this remains on the down low.
Jeff ends a call and looks up at the sky. Night’s falling. The lights on the motel overhang flicker on. He glances around the mostly abandoned parking lot, but dismisses me and the truck. I’m in the corner, near the Dumpster, and in the shadows.
Taking the key card out of his pocket, he enters the motel room. Another buzz and I wish Eli’s cell would run out of power.
You gonna be able to stay awake on this?
Do I want Eli to think I can handle the club?
Yes.
Don’t fail me.
Won’t happen.
I wait for Eli’s next text, but the silence confirms that he has faith. Should’ve asked for some coffee or a shot of adrenaline, but there’s no asking for help here. I do this or I don’t, and I won’t let Eli down.
I rest my head on the seat and stare at Emily’s motel room. If there’s one thing that’s been confirmed today, it’s that she’s more trouble than she’s worth.
IT’S AS IF I’m living the opening segment of an apocalyptic thriller. Young family’s rental car breaks down in parking lot and they’re forced to stay the night in dilapidated motel. Soon, the local townspeople morph into skin-eating demons and the family fights to survive until sunrise.
Maybe our situation isn’t that dire, but it’s close. The past few hours have been the worst sleep of my life. With no rental and no Louisville cab company willing to spare a driver to take us back into the city, we’re stuck here. To make matters worse, Snowflake is limited in overnight accommodations and, short of pitching a tent, this is where we ended up.
The stain on the sheets of the bed I lie in gives me the bugs-walking-on-the-back-of-my-neck creeps and, speaking of bugs, I’m sure there are a hundred million of them nesting in the innards of the mattress. Something continuously moves in the corner of the room, but disappears each time I click on the light.
It doesn’t help that Mom and Dad have been sharing a whispered intense conversation all night. Yes, they had a lot to discuss after the funeral home debacle, but a call from the room phone around eleven caused a new round of conversations. Most of it taking place in the bathroom.
