I’ve never told any of my friends about Eli, not even Trisha, and she’s the type of friend you can tell anything—the type that doesn’t judge me for being scared of the dark or adopted.
“I’m part owner of a security company,” Eli explains. “There’s a ton of different aspects to the job, but the one that concerns you involves a company we do business with in northern Kentucky. We escort their most expensive semi-loads to make sure they aren’t hijacked on the road.”
He pauses. I make eye contact long enough to confirm I’m listening. Eli continues. “It’s in a territory that another motorcycle club claims and they aren’t happy that we’ve been running in their area without their permission.”
“What do you mean ‘claim’?” I ask.
“Think of it in terms of invisible boundary lines. Some clubs claim certain areas as theirs. We don’t do that, but this other club, they do, and they expect other motorcycle clubs to ask for permission to ride their bikes through the area they consider theirs.”
He gives me a second to digest and I’m not sure there’s enough time in the world to comprehend this insanity. “They’ve been trying to sabotage us. Hitting us on the road with the business and our club, but we’ve taken whatever they dish out so they’ve changed tactics.”
“Hitting? Like they’ve been attacking you?” Panic starts to crazily grow inside me.
Eli waves his hand like my questions are the type to be easily dismissed. “It’s a part of our life but I promise none of this will touch you.”
Not liking where this is headed, I tuck my legs underneath me. “What does this have to do with me?”
“You’re my daughter.”
“And?”
“They decided that since they couldn’t get what they wanted through hurting the business or the club, they’re going after my family.”
“You have a ton of other family.” Not that I’m wishing a mean motorcycle club would stalk Olivia or Izzy, but I’m in favor of them not chasing me.
“Yes, but I only have one child. One they didn’t know existed until yesterday. They must have had someone at the wake willing to give them information on me and word spread rather quickly that I had a daughter and that she showed.”
“Has someone explained to them that the only connection between us is genes? You know...that you didn’t want me...and...you gave me up?”
Eli goes still—like a rock—and the dog beside me whines. As if this wasn’t awkward enough, I also have a dog willing to do sound effects in Eli’s favor. Wasn’t this mutt supposed to hop off the bed? He left me and Mom, Lars, not the other way around. You’re rooting for the wrong team.
“They know,” he answers. “But it doesn’t matter to them.”
“If they just found out I exist, then how do they know all of this about me and you?”
Eli merely looks at me as if I never asked a question and I rub my temples as my head begins this slow pound. “Have you at least called the police?”
“And tell them what? That there were people outside your motel room? People who never made contact with you?”
Touché. “If that’s the case, maybe you’re overreacting. Maybe those guys were there to sleep because that’s what normal people do at motels. And let’s say that isn’t true. Why not just ask these guys for permission to drive through their area?”
Eli looks me over. Not exactly in a disapproving way, but as if he’s realizing that he has no idea who I am...which he doesn’t. “Why should we have to ask anyone for permission to drive our bikes on a road? This is America. Constitution gives us the right to roam free. Over half of our members are veterans who’ve fought overseas. Do you think men who have been shot at for this country should be asking anyone’s permission to walk down the street?”
Okay, stumbled into a live gun range there. “So we’re back to maybe you guys were overreacting.”
“Being part of a motorcycle club is a different life—whether you’re a legit club like ours or an illegal club like theirs. You’re going to have to trust me on this and if you can’t, then know that your mom and Jeff agree with how I’m handling this.”
“What do you mean by illegal club?”
Eli crosses his arms over his chest. “Complete outlaws with no regard for society’s rules. Yeah, we have our own code and our own rules, but we don’t make money by working something illegal.”
I concentrate on my nails and pretend I’m infatuated with the pink paint. The way Eli described the illegal club is exactly how Mom described Eli and his club, but I choose not to bring that up. As far as I’m concerned, they sound similar. “Are my parents safe?”
“Yes. Just like you are.”
“Can you fix this?”
“I can fix this.”
Nausea rolls through me. He’s not exactly being forthcoming. “How?”
“That isn’t your concern.”
I straighten. “Yeah, it is.”