Nowhere But Here

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 shrug. I fell asleep for a half hour. A half hour that could cost me my future. “I’m good.”

“Glad to hear it. The way Emily looks at you, moves in your direction—that girl trusts you.”

“No, she doesn’t.”

“She trusts you more than anyone else on this property. I know you’re tired, but I’d like you to stay. It’ll make the next couple of hours easier on her and I know Eli will appreciate that.”

While I feel sorry for the girl, she’s a bomb on countdown. “She’s bad news.”

Cyrus’s boots clomp against the porch as he heads for the door. “Then she’ll fit in, won’t she?”

The sky in the west continues to get lighter and the stars above dim like a candle flame down to the quick. Only a few more hours of Emily, then Eli will fix whatever the hell is going on with the Riot, she’ll return to her spoon-fed life and I’ll beg Eli for another shot. I shove a hand through my hair to shake away the need for sleep. Just a few more hours.

“You coming?” Cyrus asks.

“I’ll be in in a sec. I need a minute to clear my head.”

He leaves while I grip the railing and lean over. My life has become a waking nightmare.

Emily (#ulink_822e9ae7-a7ef-583e-972f-6ee8f35127ab)

IN THEORY, I’M WATCHING television even though I can’t make sense of anything on the screen. Oz is on the front porch and everyone else stares at me. The everyone else would include:

Oz’s mother, Izzy, the lone partially sane person in the state of Kentucky

Cyrus, a giant impersonating a human

Olivia, the once dead and now alive

They’re probably wondering if I’m going to spaz at any second. So here’s the thing: they may not be wrong.

Wrapped in a blue crocheted blanket, I sit in the middle of the couch. Olivia has staked a claim beside me. It’s hard not to picture her popping out of the casket. Because of that, my spine is curtain-rod straight and I remain perfectly still. Sort of like those small woodland creatures when they realize the big, bad carnivorous beast has spotted them. Doesn’t console me to know things don’t typically work out for the woodland creature.

So long, woodchuck. I hope you had a great life, squirrel. You didn’t really want that nut, did you, chipmunk?

Yes, I know, no one’s going to eat me. My eyes drift over to Cyrus. He quickly turns his head and pretends to be immersed in the movie. He might sauté me up with some onions and throw me on a sesame-seed bun.

Stop it. This train of thought...it’s because I’m exhausted and I’m scared and I’m desperate to talk to my parents and...

Moisture pools in my eyes and I wipe at it. I won’t cry. Not in front of them. They are the enemy. They are the ones that created this situation. With each flutter of my eyelids, the urge is to keep them closed, but I force them open. I don’t know these people. I don’t know them and it’s not safe to sleep.

“If you’re tired,” Olivia says as if she already knows the answer, “we have a spare bedroom. Two in fact.”