Nowhere but Here

by Katie McGarry

  Going against what Eli had asked, I told Trisha that I was visiting my biological father’s family. That was a bomb she didn’t expect me to drop. Because that was big enough, I was able to easily avoid telling her anything about motorcycle clubs or gangs or the Riot or the Terror or any of this nonsense that has hijacked my life. I also didn’t tell her that I kissed Oz.

  But she does know about Olivia and Eli and Oz always being around and how I want to come home, but then again how I find myself...curious. She’s promised not to tell and if I believe anyone about anything, it would be Trisha.

  Trisha: Daddy says fervent denial is a sign of hiding something. :)

  But I don’t believe her on this, even though her dad does question people for a living. Me: And I’m going to bed now.

  Trisha: lol Night

  Me: Night

  I toss my phone onto the bed beside me, ease onto the floor and open the door to my room. A glance down the hallway toward Olivia’s room and my heart jumps. Razor leans with his back against the wall and he peers into Olivia’s darkened room.

  Violet’s warnings go off in my head. That I should stay away, that I should run, but there’s something very broken in his expression and it’s not the type of broken that causes fear, but the type I’ve spotted in my mother whenever she talks about her old home—about Kentucky.

  “She fell asleep a while ago,” I say. I know because I checked on her twice. She seemed more exhausted than normal this evening.

  “I know,” he replies.

  Razor doesn’t say much to me, and from what I observed when he accompanied me and Eli to Nashville, he doesn’t say much to anyone so I don’t feel slighted by his lack of conversation.

  “I was going to get something to drink. Do you want anything?”

  He looks wearily into Olivia’s room again and then follows me down the hallway. Once in the kitchen, I get some water out of the faucet and set a full glass for him on the counter then work on fixing a glass for myself.

  “Nashville was fun,” I say to fill the void. Reality is, it was fun in a weird way. Each of the guys went out of their way to talk to me or tease me in a good-natured way, and Eli...Eli and I shared some awkward conversation and a few times we shared some easy conversation. It’s surprising how much even I enjoyed those moments. “So your dad is Hook?”

  Lars pads into the kitchen. When I turn off the faucet and open my mouth to speak again, Razor’s crouched on the floor scratching Lars behind the ears and Lars’s leg kicks as if he’s in heaven. What’s amazing? Razor is smiling.

  Smiling.

  I’ve been here for weeks and I’ve never seen him smile.

  He has a gorgeous smile and it makes me realize just how beautiful the boy is. Blond hair, blue eyes, built a lot like Oz, but when I look at him, there’s no flutter in my stomach. No sense of urgency to be near him and I scowl. There goes my theory that the only reason I have tingles in my blood when Oz is around is because he’s attractive.

  Lars plants a large wet kiss on Razor and instead of pushing him away like I expect the big bad biker to do, Razor only plants a kiss back on the dog’s head. He then stands like none of that happened. “Thank you for what you’re doing for Olivia.”

  My stomach sinks. “I’m not doing anything.”

  He shrugs again. “She’s like a mom to a lot of us and it’s hard to lose your mom.”

  Pain flashes in his eyes and because this moment is nearing uncomfortable I ask, “Is she like a mom to Oz?”

  Razor’s gaze darts toward the living room. “Ask him.”

  Oz

  RAZOR’S TALKING AND that’s a big deal. Yeah, he shoots the shit with me and Chevy and, once upon a time, he and Violet were the best of friends, but the kid doesn’t talk. His past with his mother messed him up so much that he feels safer inside himself than he does with the rest of the world.

  He may stay bottled up within himself, but he’s loyal and has heart. I couldn’t think of anyone else besides Chevy I’d want by my side if the world went to hell, and it moves me to see that he’s talking with Emily. That he said thank you to Emily.

  I’m not the only one who’s noticed how her presence has brightened Olivia’s world.

  “I’m out,” Razor says then walks out the back door.

  Emily stands stunned near the sink. Yeah, a lot of girls look at Razor like that. He’s like an angel with a demented side and girls either flock to him or run away. Emily seems to be leaning toward the running away, which means she has some semblance of a survival instinct.

  What I’m not liking is my sense of relief that she’s not attracted to him.

  “You okay?” I ask.

  Emily drinks from the glass of water in her hand. “Yeah. Why are you still here?”

  Because it’s my job to watch over you. To protect you. “A few guys stayed behind to talk and I saw the kitchen light flip on. Just thought I’d check everything out.”

  She shifts her lips to the side as if she doesn’t buy my answer, but moves along. “Is Razor okay?”

  No. “He misses his mom sometimes and Olivia is one of the few people he feels he has left.”

  Emily frowns. “What happened to his mom?”

  “Razor’s right to thank you. Olivia’s happier with you here.”

  Emily’s eyes immediately flash to mine with the nonanswer. What happened to Razor’s mom is his business and it bothers him when people talk about it behind his back.

  “Is Olivia also like a mom to you?”

  Even though I overhead Emily ask the question of Razor first, it still creates a ripple of pain. I love Olivia and she’s dying. “Olivia is a lot of things to a lot of people. Me included. The world will be a dark place if she dies.”

  If, because the next round of chemo will work. Because the doctors will figure out something new. They have before. There’s no reason to think they won’t present us with a miracle again.

  Emily sets the glass on the counter and hugs her body. “I’m sorry she’s sick.”

  Me, too. “Not living here—you missed growing up with a hell of a woman.”

  Emily laugh-snorts and it’s cute on her. “I mean this in a better way than a few weeks ago—but she’s still crazy. All of you are.”

  “And we wear that title proud.” I like a little too much that Emily smiles with my words. “I’m dying of curiosity. What do your fancy rich-doctor’s-kid friends say about you being a child of a motorcycle club?”

  Her smile fades. “They don’t know.”

  I didn’t realize how much I had been enjoying Emily’s company until the weight of her statement crashed into me. A few weeks ago, I would have been angry at her for obviously looking down on us, but tonight, after watching her with Olivia, after seeing how she’s made people I love happy, I offer her a chance. “How come?”

  Emily worries her bottom lip and her finger taps against her arm. She’s nervous about my reaction and given how I’ve treated her, she has good reason to be concerned. I walk across the kitchen and then lift myself until I’m sitting on the counter beside her.

  The scent of the beach hits me as I nudge her with my knee. “I promise I won’t tear into for your answer. No judgment.”

  “Be careful, Oz. You’re acting like we’re friends or something and that will totally ruin the whole ‘the only reason we’re in the same room is because we’re being forced to by tragic circumstances’ thing.”

  I chuckle and I get a ghost of that beautiful smile she showed before. “Isn’t this what people do? Ask random questions to find out if they want to be friends?”

  “Then try favorite color, do you have a pet, what’s your favorite food.”

  Fine. “Give me the answers to all that.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Blue, a goldfish and meatballs.”

&n
bsp; Say what? “Meatballs? Who the hell likes meatballs as their favorite food?”

  “Wow, that sounded judgey.” But there’s a tease in her voice.

  “You got me. I judged, but meatballs?”

  “Spaghetti is boring without them, plus they make a great sandwich. You are totally underestimating the power of a meatball.”

  I am and I’m smiling and she’s smiling and I should leave well enough alone, but it’s bothering me that she didn’t answer about why she hasn’t told anyone about Eli. “Why haven’t you told anyone?”

  It’s like I blew out a flickering flame and I somewhat hate myself for it.

  Emily readjusts her footing, sucks in a deep breath and says, “I don’t like reminding my father I’m adopted.”

  Out of all the answers Emily could have given, that isn’t the one I expected. I had prepared myself for her to be ashamed, but when I search her face, I see she’s telling me the honest-to-God truth. “Why?”

  Emily looks over at the pictures taped to the refrigerator. Most of them are group photos and there isn’t a snapshot that doesn’t show our crazy side. My favorite is of me, Oz, Chevy, Razor and Violet from last year, covered in mud after we created a homemade waterslide on a steep hill on the other side of Cyrus’s property. You can’t tell much about us beyond our open eyes and smiles.

  “I may not understand a lot about all of this craziness, but I understand that Olivia loves you like you’re related to her. Like she never had a choice in loving you, but my dad did. He could have taken one look at me and decided he wanted nothing to do with a woman who had a child. He had a choice and there isn’t a day I don’t thank God that he chose not only Mom, but me.”

  My gut twists for her. “I’ve seen your dad around you. The man is nuts about you.”

  “He is, but wouldn’t it hurt him if I was curious about any of you? If I talked about Eli with all my friends?”

  Emily turns her head so she can meet my eyes and there’s a striking honesty that almost brings me to my knees. Olivia didn’t have to love me. Neither did Cyrus or Eli or anyone else in the club, but they do. Somewhere deep down inside, I understand what she’s saying because what does it say about me if I do think about something more than the security company? But I shut that thought down. This club, this family...it’s all I want.

  Hating that I took her to a place that bothers her, I hop off the counter and draw Emily into a hug. She keeps her arms wrapped tight around herself. She doesn’t fall into me, but she doesn’t pull away.

  “Thank you for not judging me,” she whispers.

  I lower my head and whisper back, “Thank you for being here...for spending time with Olivia.” With me.

  “Does this mean we’re friends?” she asks.

  I chuckle and at the same time she giggles. “How about it means whatever it needs to mean.”

  “All right. I can live with that.”

  Emily

  I OPEN THE door to my room and pause when pipes squeal, then water hits the base of the shower. I stepped out a few minutes ago and like every morning when Eli’s gone, Oz gets in after me. There’s something intimate in sharing a shower. I was naked in there. Now he’s naked in there. Sweet baby Jesus, Oz naked.

  With a shake of my head, I follow the scent of freshly brewed coffee into the kitchen and twist my hair off the back of my neck, secure it in a messy bun then sweep my bangs away from my forehead. I’m barely out of the shower and sweat’s already dotting my brow.

  I crack the window over the sink. The loud clicking of the cicadas drifts in. Ugh. Nine in the morning and they’re already making that racket. That means today is going to be blistering.

  “There’s no reason you can’t get my coffee.” Olivia enters with a home manicure set basket and is her usual ball-of-sunshine self.

  “Normal people say ‘good morning’ and follow up requests with strange words like ‘please’ and ‘thank you.’” Mimicking what Oz has done every morning, I pull a mug out of the cupboard, pour Olivia some coffee and deposit it in front of her.

  She picks it up and blows over the top of the mug. “Your father will be back tomorrow.”

  My head snaps in her direction and then I open the fridge. She meant her son, not my dad. “Oz mentioned Eli should be returning soon.”

  I dip my head into the cold air of the fridge. If I tuck myself into a ball maybe I could squeeze in there and hang for the day.

  “Electricity costs money,” Olivia mumbles. “Have you figured out what Honeysuckle Ridge is yet?”

  I roll my eyes, grab the orange juice and we fall into our normal routine. She asks the same question every morning and every morning I have the same answer. “Nothing yet that pertains to me.”

  I fill my cup and, instead of abandoning the subject, I sink into my chair three spots from hers. “Why don’t you tell me what it is that you want me to know?”

  “You’ve only been here a month.” Olivia hunts through the basket. “You’re just now starting to act like a normal human instead of a wild rabbit terrified of being shot. You and I have a lot more to learn about each other.”

  I sigh and the slant of her mouth tells me she caught it. I’ve played the game with her. Literally. Every card game imaginable, and I’ve even sat with her as we flipped through endless photos of people I care nothing about. “What more can you want from me? I’ve answered every question you’ve asked.”

  “This isn’t a job interview,” she says. “You already have the position of my granddaughter. I want you to stick around until you actually believe you’re part of this family.”

  I am never going to discover what transpired between my mom and Eli.

  Olivia produces a fingernail file and that’s when I notice the split nail on the pointer finger of her right hand. I tap the tip of my tongue to the roof of my mouth. Olivia’s left side isn’t strong.

  “Can I do it?” I ask.

  Olivia shoots me a glare that makes me want to shrink into a corner. “I’m not a fucking invalid.”

  Won’t lie. She scares the hell out of me. “I never said you were, but this is the kind of thing Mom and I would do for each other—for fun. Fun.” I overemphasize the word. “Excuse me for trying to act like family.”

  I kick away from the table, put the orange juice back in the fridge with more racket than needed, and right as I leave the kitchen, Olivia calls out, “Do you always resort to behaving like a two-year-old when someone yells at you?”

  The muscles in my back tense. Who interacts this way? “Have you ever tried being nice, or is that what will cause you to melt? It must have been a bummer for you with what happened when water was poured on your sister.”

  Olivia laughs. The deep one, and my lips twitch with it. I don’t understand her, but for some reason when she does laugh, I like it because it’s a confirmation I won at least one round.

  She waves her hand in the air. “Get back in here.”

  Reluctantly, I sit next to her. Relationships shouldn’t be this way—continual fights for dominance. I take the nail file and her hand then pause at the cold temperature of her skin. She’s freaking ice cubes. Crazy since the house is the desert at high noon.

  I start filing and Olivia breaks the silence. “You don’t feel sorry for me because I’m dying, do you?”

  An overwhelming chill causes my stomach to roil. “I do, but you make it easy to forget that you’re sick.” It’s the truth and I’m a horrible person. “Sorry for the witch comment.”

  “Don’t apologize for that. Never for that. I like that you don’t treat me differently. You’ve done more good for my soul than you can know.” She breathes in deeply then releases the air at a slow pace. “Oz treats me differently.”

  I nibble on my bottom lip. “How so?”

  “The second tree on the left,” Olivia
says. I should’ve known better than to expect a straight answer.

  My hand freezes midfile. “What?”

  “Where you’ll go today, there will be a large oak tree. The second tree from the left. Look there.”

  “But I’m not going anywhere—”

  She shushes me and Oz’s heavy boots clump against the hardwood floor of the hallway and then enter the kitchen. The skin on the back of my neck prickles with anticipation. I lift my eyes to the mirror on the wall and sure enough his are locked on me and Olivia.

  His hair is damp and sticks up in various ways. It’s sexy as hell and my fingers flinch with the desire to run my hands through it again. Oz’s gaze switches to the mirror and the breath catches in my chest when his blue eyes meet mine. We hold it that way. One second. Two.

  Olivia clears her throat and I focus crazily on her nail again.

  The cupboard squeaks behind me and then closes. A few seconds later Oz drops into the seat on Olivia’s other side. “I would have gotten your coffee for you.”

  “I’m perfectly fine getting it myself.”

  I work hard to not look at either Oz or Olivia. She lied. Blatantly. She must have a reason for it, but I can’t fathom what. Lying doesn’t have a place for me. As I’ve mentioned to Oz, it creates integrity issues.

  “I want you to take Emily swimming today,” Olivia says. “I have the doctor’s appointment in Louisville and it’s too hot for the two of you to stay around here.”

  Um... “I don’t have a bathing suit.” I didn’t buy one in Nashville.

  Olivia slips her hand from mine and appreciates my filing job. “Izzy told me there’s one in the bag of clothes she brought from Violet’s house. She hasn’t taken the bag back yet. I believe she left it in the hallway closet.”

  My cheeks warm rapidly. That’s not a bathing suit. That’s tiny strips of cloth barely held together by dental floss.

  Oz shifts back and folds his arms over his chest. The narrowed expression in Olivia’s direction tells me he’s as excited about this as I am. “Eli doesn’t want her off the property.” His eyes flicker to me. “Sorry.”