“I want my mom and dad,” she mumbles.
“You’ll see them tomorrow.” Eli pushes a strand of hair from her cheek. “You’re safe here. I promise.”
She rejects Eli by curling into me. Her head fits perfectly in the crook of my neck and I loathe the wave of protectiveness that rumbles through my body. Emily’s fingers tighten their grip near my shoulders and the impulse is to shield her from the guys gawking at this intimate scene. Yeah, this is club business, but Emily never asked for any of this.
Cyrus opens the door and I move past Eli. He’s hot on my heels. So close, his breath hits the back of my neck. Mom steps out of the kitchen and is down the hallway before me. She waves for me to enter the spare bedroom.
It’s the bedroom no one ever uses. First it belonged to Eli’s brother and then he died. Most can get over that, but people will crash on the couch and hardwood floor before sleeping in the bedroom that Emily and her mother once claimed. The purple room with white bedding is cursed. No one wants anything to do with a traitor.
I lay Emily on the bed. Her arms fall over her head and her dark hair fans out on the pillow. Her eyes are shut and her breaths come out in a deep rhythmic pattern. I ease back as Eli spreads a blanket over Emily and removes the shoes from her feet, dropping each one to the floor.
Emily’s hand drifts to the edge of the bed and her fingers splay open. The picture Olivia gave her floats to the floor like a feather in the breeze. My heart pounds hard once. I go to retrieve it, but Mom snatches it with death written over her face. Her eyes meet mine and we stare at each other as if we’re looking down the business end of a rifle.
If Eli found that picture in Emily’s possession, he would have spiraled into dangerous quick.
“Where’d she get this?” Mom mouths.
I tilt my head toward Olivia’s bedroom and her eyes slam shut. As Eli straightens, Mom shoves the picture in her jeans pocket then spins on her heel and touches Eli’s arm to gain his attention. “Would you like me to stay with Emily?”
Eli draws a hand over his face and walks over to the window seat. He sags onto it and appears to age ten years.
Since Eli entered my life at eleven, he’s always been badass. All the stories I had been told before he returned to Snowflake made him larger than life. In reality, Eli is larger than life. Over six feet tall. Broad-shouldered. The Reign of Terror’s black leather cut strong on his back. I’ve seen him easily kick the shit out of any man stupid enough to stand in his way.
“Tell Cyrus I’ll update him soon, but I need to be in here,” Eli says. “Emily will need some things. Clothes, personal stuff. A burner phone. Can you handle that for me?”
“Of course,” Mom answers, and I don’t miss how she keeps a hand pressed over the pocket containing the picture. “Let’s go, Oz.”
I go to leave, but Eli stops me. “Tell me you didn’t fall asleep on lookout.”
I shove my hands in my pockets and point-blank meet his glare. Eli shakes his head in disgust. “We’ll deal with this in Church later. Cyrus says that Emily trusts you.”
If Eli believes it to be true and it works me back into his good graces then I’ll take it. “She hasn’t run away from me yet.” At least not far enough that I couldn’t catch her.
“We’ll be leaving here around three. Get some sleep. If she trusts you then I want you riding with us when we meet with her parents. You better wow me if you want to make prospect.”
I nod to him then glance at Emily as I leave. Amazing how someone so innocent and beautiful can wreak so much havoc.
Mom shuts the door behind us and leans into me like a rabid animal. “Did you know Emily had the picture? Did she bring it with her? Tell me that nod of your head did not mean that Olivia gave it to her.”
From the living room, Cyrus pokes his head around the corner and we stay silent until he resumes whatever he was doing. I keep my tone down when I answer Mom. “Olivia did give it to her. I told Emily not to tell Eli.”
Mom rams her fingers through her hair. “Eli will go ballistic if he finds out. You need to stay away from Emily.”
I chuckle. “I’m not stupid enough to hook up with Eli’s daughter.”
“Ew.” Her face crinkles. “Emily’s practically family to us.”
No, she’s not. She’s an outsider causing problems.
“But that’s not what I mean,” she says. “There’s a lot of old unmapped land mines surrounding her and I don’t want you to end up collateral damage.”
“I can take care of myself.”
Mom does that sad smile that she gave to me time and time again when I was younger after I came in bruised and bleeding from whatever trouble I had found. She touches my cheek. “That’s what I’m scared of. You know your father and I are here if you need us.”
“Yeah,” I answer.