LITMIR.BIZ

       Oz

      HOOK AND PIGPEN guard the door to the office, and it’s a good thing, too. Otherwise I probably would have bolted in and shaken the hell out of Emily.

      My teeth grind as I witness the drama unfolding through the window. Olivia, the strongest woman I know, is close to tears. She’s been the focus of my life since I was a child, and I’ve never seen her this way. Not when she discusses the son she lost around the time of my birth. Not when she told me I wouldn’t be living with her anymore when I was eight. Not when she hurts year after year as she marks another passing of Emily’s birthday with no contact from her or Meg. Not when she found out she has greater odds of being hit by lightning than surviving the cancer.

      Tears. Olivia’s eyes are glassy and she lifts her chin like she doesn’t give a damn, but there’s only a fragile veil of pride hiding her devastation.

      Emily stands in the middle of the room with her purse in her hands, looking completely lost as Olivia cups her face. Fuck Emily for hurting Olivia. Fuck Emily for returning and ruining this day.

      The door to the office opens and Eli walks out. Hook and Pigpen grant Eli their undivided attention and Eli points at me. “I need you in on this, Oz.”

      I slide closer and the four of us create a tight circle. Eli talks so only we can hear. “Pigpen, clear this hall. Hook, tell her father we’re taking Emily out the back. I want a wall of leather cuts giving her shade, do you got me?”

      They mumble their agreement and Pigpen rounds to face the crowd. Like a lot of the brothers in the club, he’s ex-military. The voice of the six-two, massive former Army Ranger rumbles against the walls. “If you ain’t a brother, clear out!”

      The volume of conversation in the hall rises along with the sound of shuffling feet. Everyone associated with us comprehends that a demand is a demand, not a request. Hang-arounds, people not associated with the club, are permitted to party with us, but are only allowed on our terms. If they don’t like it, they can get the hell out.

      I shift to help Pigpen with the herding, but Eli catches my arm. “Walk with me.”

      Eli’s on the move in the restricted hallway of the funeral home and I keep step by his side. We turn the corner and he imitates a Navy SEAL on a mission when his eyes roam the area. He’s performing a run-through to confirm the area is clear. “What the fuck was Meg thinking letting Emily come here?”

      His hand slams on a swinging door that’s marked “No Entrance” and I keep my mouth shut. That question wasn’t for me. We enter a barren hallway and I stay near the exit as Eli checks a room at the end. “Fifteen years since they’ve been in this town and now with the Riot breathing down our throats Meg allows Emily to show.”

      Eli kicks an empty cardboard box and it bounces against the wall. He breathes hard and I meld into the equivalent of paint. I’ve known Eli since I was eleven. He’s the biggest badass I’ve met and he doesn’t easily lose his shit. It’s best to let him ride this out.

      “I e-mailed Jeff.” Eli stares at the wall. “I e-mailed him in the vain hope he’d let Emily come, but I didn’t think he would. I knew Meg would say no, but I had hoped and then he did call and I didn’t answer. I had turned off my cell, forgot I had and now...”

      His hands go to his hips and his head falls back. “I have a huge favor to ask.”

      “Name it.” This is the moment I’ve been waiting for since I was sixteen.

      “I need you on Emily. Follow her until she gets on the plane. Stay close enough to make sure she’s out of trouble, but far enough away that no one figures out that you’re tailing them. If you do this for me, you’ll have a cut on your back the moment you walk into the clubhouse and you’ll be our newest prospect.”

      “Not a problem.” I’ll follow Emily through hell in order to make prospect. “Do you mind telling me what I’m watching for?”

      Eli works his jaw. “The Riot.”

      Never thought of Eli as paranoid. My mind races for why the Riot would give a rip about Emily. “The Riot would never step into Snowflake, so how would they know that she’s here?” And why would they care?

      “The Riot’s pissed we’re doing security business in Louisville. Even more pissed we won’t give them a cut of our profits because we’re running through their area. Remember what I said to you last night? The Riot can make a business issue personal fast.”

      “Yeah, but you think they’ll go after Emily?”

      “There’s a scar forming on your father’s head that tells me the Riot is ready for a war, and there are over two hundred people in this building. I can’t risk the chance there’s someone loyal to them here gathering info on us. I wasn’t worried until I saw Emily. We’re strong together as a club. We protect our own, but she’s not one of us and I won’t have them go personal with her. The Riot don’t think straight when they’re mad. They act first and never ask questions later. She’s my daughter and I don’t want her caught up in my shit.”

      I nod. This is the guy Eli is—loyal to those he loves. But it’s lost on me why he has this sudden commitment to Emily. He visits her once a year. From what I understand, he never tried for custody, but I’m not going to question my path into the club. He wants me to watch Emily, so I’ll watch Emily. She officially has a stalker.

      “Meg will be able to spot a Terror member,” he continues, “so you’ll be driving my truck. If anyone can own the role of teenager out for a joyride who doesn’t give a shit, it’s you.”

      From Eli, that’s a high compliment. “Emily will know me.”

      “Emily won’t be looking for you, but Meg will be searching for the club.” He digs into his pockets and tosses the keys to his truck to me. “Tail them until she boards the plane. I need to know that my problems with the Riot don’t follow my daughter.”

      “Consider it done.” I open the exit door and Eli stops me from walking out into the summer sun.

      “Anyone who messes with Emily messes with me,” he adds.

      Which means anyone stupid enough to cross paths with her is suicidal. “I got her back.”

      Eli smiles like we’ve been chatting about the weather. “You’re a good man, Oz.” And he disappears back inside the funeral home.

      * * *

      In pleated khaki pants, Emily’s adoptive father, Jeff, paces outside the sidewalk of his motel room talking on his cell. He sports a pair of Aviator sunglasses and holds himself like he’s God. Heard he’s a doctor so he probably thinks he is. I’ve been ordered to maintain my distance, otherwise I would have offered the three of them a ride into Louisville hours ago.

      My cell buzzes. Eli’s hourly check-in. What’s going on?

      Same thing as the past ten hours. Nothing.

      I followed Emily and Jeff here after they left the funeral home. Three hours ago the rental-car company showed and dropped off an SUV. Emily and her parents piled into the rental and I rapped my head against the headrest of the truck when the engine of the SUV wouldn’t turn over.

      Since then, Jeff’s bought takeout and

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