Eli mentioned Olivia before, but he never discussed his father and I never cared enough to ask or imagine one existed. Maybe Eli did mention him and I blocked it out.
Oz inclines his head to the house. I walk forward and Oz is kind enough to match his pace to my slow stride.
“You’re being nice to me,” I say. “Thank you for that.”
“Did you think I was an asshole?”
Um...yeah. “Well...”
“Your first instinct was right.”
“Why are you being nice to me then?” I ask as we reach the stairs.
Oz pauses on the bottom step and glances at the bear of a man towering by the front door. “Because nobody deserves to be thrown into the middle of a tornado.”
The screen door opens again and the woman I had abandoned hours before shuffles onto the front porch. Her head is covered by a blue scarf and she wears a pair of jeans and a form-fitting black T-shirt. Olivia touches Cyrus’s arm and smiles down at me. “Welcome home, Emily.”
Oz
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.