black T-shirt. Olivia touches Cyrus’s arm and smiles down at me. “Welcome home, Emily.”
I ENTER THE living room and rub my knuckles against the stubble forming on my jaw. Every single baby picture of Emily has disappeared. That’s left a lot of noticeable dust-outlined bare spots.
Olivia fusses over Emily in that demanding way of hers, telling her that she must be hungry and thirsty. Emily scratches a spot on her arm and my eyes narrow at the red welt developing on her wrist. I don’t like that. I don’t like it at all.
Mom appears in the doorway from the kitchen and she rests a hand over her heart when she sees me. One of her men home. One more to go. From what I understood on the phone, Eli, Dad and a bunch of other members tore off on their bikes for the motel. Because of Olivia’s cancer, Mom often stays with Olivia when Mom’s off work.
“Don’t stand there like a statue, child. Tell me what you need,” says Olivia.
Emily rubs harder at her wrist and her eyes shoot to mine as if she’s asking me to answer for her. Guess I am an asshole because I don’t swoop in for the rescue.
“Can I talk to my mom and dad?” she asks.
Olivia immediately glances to Cyrus and he clears his throat. “Soon.”
“Are they okay?”
“Yes,” Cyrus answers.
Emily’s eyes dart around, trying to take in the people surrounding her and the bright, open room. Lincoln log walls. Wooden floors. Flat-screen television. Overstuffed couch. A recliner for Cyrus. Surround-sound system. Most of the furniture and electronics are gifts from Eli. His attempt to buy his way out of guilt.
“Why...” Emily’s whole body shudders like an epileptic fit and she brushes her fingers over her arms as if to warm her skin. She’s acting so damn cold that even I’m starting to believe it’s winter. “What’s going on?”
“There’s been a misunderstanding,” says Cyrus.
“Seems to be a lot of those.” Emily throws a death glare in my direction. Damn, she’s got fire. That’s shocking considering I pegged her to be a mouse of a girl who did everything exactly as her mother told her.
“And we apologize for that,” Cyrus continues. “We’re having some business issues and our negotiations have hit a snag.”
Emily tosses her arms out to her sides. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“No,” he agrees. “It doesn’t.”
That’s the only explanation Cyrus will offer. Emily’s inquiring about club business and Emily’s not part of the club. By the scowl on her face, she’s pissed. Being shut out doesn’t sit well with most girls. Women like Mom and Olivia are a rarity.
Olivia straightens her scarf as she starts to shake. Last week, Olivia was so sick she was in bed with an IV. While I love that Emily’s brought a hop to her step, Olivia’s wasting energy to put on a show for her long-lost granddaughter.
“Emily’s in shock,” I say. “She’s cold and she mentioned she hasn’t slept yet.”
Dirty look number two. If Emily keeps this up, she might be elevated from good-girl status to bad.
“I’m fine,” Emily mutters, but what she doesn’t realize is that I didn’t say it to humiliate her. I said it to force Olivia off her feet and my plan works.
Like she’s herding a timid sheep, Olivia corners Emily until she practically falls back on the couch and Olivia relaxes beside her. Mom’s in front of Emily with a mug of something steaming and uses a soft tone as she introduces herself.
Cyrus inclines his head to the porch and as I move to walk out, Emily’s head snaps up. “Where are you going?”
All eyes land on me. Cyrus strokes the length of his beard as his eyes flicker between me and Emily.
“Front porch,” I answer.
Emily scoots to the edge of the couch like she’s going to stand and my mom and Olivia flutter their hands to keep her seated.
“Oz isn’t going anywhere,” Cyrus says. “I need to follow up with him on a few things and then he’ll be back in.”
“Oz?” asks Emily.
Cyrus motions with his head for me to confirm it and I do. “I won’t be long.”
Emily reclines back against the couch and cups the mug in her hands, but doesn’t drink. Odds are she thinks it’s poison.
Cyrus and I step onto the porch and, off in the east, dark blue creates a line against the black of night. Dawn’s coming and I have no idea what this day is going to bring.
“You were supposed to become a prospect last night,” says Cyrus.
I lean my shoulder against one of the log columns supporting the roof of the porch and cross my arms over my chest. Cyrus eases up beside me, resting a hip on the railing.
“I know.” Today was supposed to be the first day of the rest of my life, but Emily’s visit messed everything up.
“It’ll happen,” Cyrus says. “But Eli’s priority is his daughter.”
I nod, because there’s nothing else to say.
“Eli called you, Oz. Multiple times. You texted as he was heading to hunt you down.”
My gut twists. I fell asleep on my debut assignment. I didn’t even get to wear a cut and I blew my chance. Anger and frustration tenses my muscles and I fight the urge to slam my fist against something. Anything. This is my life. My family. I may have lost it all because I fell asleep. “What do I do?”
Cyrus stares straight at me with those emotionless gray eyes. “Man up and accept the repercussions. Any other option isn’t acceptable.”
The club doesn’t tolerate excuses. The brotherhood is built on family and trust. Lying my way out of a situation would be the same as showing myself the door.
“Tell ’em the truth. That’s all you can do.” Cyrus pats my shoulder. “Besides, you saved his daughter and my granddaughter. That holds some weight.”
His words sound good, but none of them erase the fear that I might have sabotaged the most important goal in my life. A sickening nausea envelops me and it’s similar to the devastation of being told that Olivia has cancer.
Cyrus pushes off the railing. “You did good tonight.”
“You never mentioned why the Riot would be going after Emily. Or how they’d even know who she is.”
Frogs croak in the nearby pond. I wait for an answer and Cyrus smirks. “You’re right. I didn’t. When was the last time you had decent sleep?”
I
