“Do you mind that I want to wait?” she asks.
She’s talking about sex. We’ve had several conversations on the phone discussing what I’ve done and what she hasn’t. She grew up thinking she was the product of a one-night stand. Though she knows now that she wasn’t, she also knows, like I do about myself, that she was unexpected.
Neither of us want that type of unexpected in our lives anytime soon.
I sweep the hair away from her face. “I can do what we’re doing forever, Emily.”
“I like the sound of that,” she says.
“Me, too.”
She flashes me her beautiful smile, quickly kisses my lips and rolls away from me.
“Hey.” I reach for her and she giggles as she maneuvers out of my grasp. “I wanted to lie with you for a while.”
Emily’s already slipping her bra back on. “We promised Eli we’d make this a fast trip. If we don’t return soon, he’ll come looking for us, and I am not in the mood to be busted again.”
I chuckle as I button my pants and toss my shirt on. “You’re mine tonight and I’m not sharing. We’re watching a movie and you’re sitting with me. Eli can kiss my ass.”
She tilts her head, waiting. “Deal.”
I cup her face with my hands and draw in her lower lip as she takes in the top of mine. I’m trying to memorize every kiss. She’ll be gone in a few days and even though I’ll be making a run for the business through Florida in two weeks, each moment we spend together is crucial.
When we’re presentable, Emily grabs the bag and holds it in her lap. The spark she had fades and she skims her hand over the material. “I wish I could have been there when she passed.”
From behind, I enfold Emily into me and nuzzle the spot behind her ear. “You were there, in spirit.”
“Is it pathetic that I didn’t actually think that Olivia would die?”
“No.” But she did. “We don’t have to do this today.”
“Yes,” she answers. “I do.”
Emily zips open the bag and pulls out the box containing Olivia’s ashes. Olivia didn’t choose the casket and she admitted it’s because of the encounter that freaked out Emily. Olivia’s last request was this: for Emily to release her ashes into the wind.
The box trembles in Emily’s hand and I slide my fingers underneath hers to help support it. “Olivia told me that if this was too much for you, it was okay. She didn’t want you to do anything that pushed you too far.”
Emily sucks in a breath. “She told me that. But I want to do this. For her and for me.”
She opens the box and inside is a plastic bag. Crude, I know, but Olivia asked that she be separated and left specific instructions of what was to be done with her remains. This box belongs to me and Emily. She asked me to be here with Emily when Emily released them.
Me and Emily alone.
A flash of white in the box catches my attention. “What’s that?”
Emily retrieves an envelope and her eyes meet mine when we spot Olivia’s handwriting. I take the box from Emily and nod for her to open it. She does and reads aloud:
“Emily and Oz,
Someday you’ll tell your children a love story about yourselves. Maybe you’ll be together, maybe you’ll end up with someone else; regardless, what you’ve experienced is love. I know love when I see it. It’s how I look at Cyrus. It’s how Eli looks at Emily and Meg. It’s what you two share whenever you look at each other.
Yes, Emily, Honeysuckle Ridge is a site used by the club and Eli did use it when he was trying to figure out how to handle his situation with the police, but that’s not why I wanted you to find the place. I never wanted you to hurt with the truth. I wanted the truth to set both of you free.
You both have grown up feeling as if you weren’t properly loved by those who should have loved you the most. People make mistakes. They make wrong choices at the worst moments. Never at any time were you not loved.
Know this. Cherish this. Love one another and be courageous enough to live your life and love more. Don’t let fear trap you. You’re both too young for that.
Honeysuckle Ridge is where Cyrus asked me to marry him. It’s where Eli took Meg and told her that he was in love with her. This place has a rich history of love. That’s the secret I wanted you to discover, Emily. This family is full of love and our love story contains you. Without it, we’re missing a vital part of our soul.
Oz and Emily—love one another and if you need to part ways because you discover you belong with someone else, that’s okay, too. Remember that you loved each other once and it’s okay to just be friends.
Love the other people in your lives as if this was your last day because you never know if it is. I have loved you both. Your entire lives.
Forever,
Olivia”
We’re silent. I read over the letter again, drinking in her every word. There’s a mixture of sadness and joy coursing in my blood and it causes me to tug Emily closer. She leans her head against mine and it’s like we’re holding each other up.
Olivia loved us. We loved her. She’s right. We never know how many days we have left.
Emily folds the letter with special care and offers it to me. I take it and watch as the girl I love carries out Olivia’s final wish.
Unzipping the plastic bag, Emily stands at the edge of the cliff and slowly releases Olivia’s ashes into the air. “You said the truth sets you free and now you finally are.”
Emily glances over at me and smiles softly. Olivia was right—the truth did set Emily and me free and through that, we found each other.
* * * * *
Acknowledgments
To God: “Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.”
—John 8:32 NIV
FOR DAVE: FOR HELPING me learn what truth in that statement above really means. I love you, always.
This book wouldn’t be possible without the help of a motorcycle club that welcomed me into their clubhouse and lives, if only for a small window of time. I walked in with a head full of ideas of what to expect and I walked away envious of the relationships you share. You are an amazing group of people and I wish each of you love, success and happiness. A special thank-you to Mother, Fluffy, Rump, Loveshack, Bizkit and Cash. Your time and insights were extremely valuable and appreciated.
A special thank-you to my editor extraordinaire, Margo Lipschultz, and my agent, Kevan Lyon. I’m truly blessed to have the two of you in my life.
I’ve come to love and embrace the “it takes a village” concept over the past few years of my life. This is true not only in my personal life, but in my writing life, as well. Thank you and hugs to: Angela Annalaro-Murphy, Kristen Simmons, Colette Ballard, Kelly Creagh, Bethany Griffin, Kurt Hampe, Bill Wolf, my family and friends.
Look for WALK THE EDGE,
Razor’s story, coming soon from
Katie McGarry and Harlequin TEEN!
Read on for an exclusive sneak peek...
RAZOR
HER FACE IS white against her raven hair. Ghost white. And I’d bet my left ball she hasn’t breathed since I spoke. Her hand is outstretched toward the busted cell on the ground, but her wide hazel eyes are cemented on me. I turn my head and I’m greeted by the amused faces of my brothers from the Reign of Terror who stand next to their bikes in the parking lot. They’ll be harassing me about this for weeks.
Fuck me for trying to be chivalrous.
“You okay?” It’s a variation of the question I asked a few seconds ago, but this one she seems to understand as her body slowly trembles to life.
“Um...” she mutters. We’ve been at the same schools since elementary age, otherwise I’d wonder if she was a foreign exchange student with limited English. “I only have twenty dollars.”
The musc
les in the back of my neck tense. “I’m not going to jack you for your money.”
She quits breathing again.
“Nice to know your current bank account status,” I say. “But I asked if you were okay.”
Color returns to her cheeks as I pin her with my gaze. She accused me of trying to rob her. I know it, she knows it and she’s now been informed that I’m not the asshole in this scenario.
“Yes,” she finally answers. “I’m okay. I mean no... I mean...I broke my phone.”
She did and that sucks for her.
Now her eyes flicker between me and the phone like she wants to pick it up, yet is too paralyzed to do it. Saving us both from this torture, I swipe up the pieces of the cell and lean against the wall opposite her.
The distance between us helps her breathe and that gulp of air was audible as she tucks herself tight in the corner farthest from me. This type of reaction isn’t new. I’ve seen it since I was a child whenever my father or anyone from the Terror entered a room full of civilians. To everyone outside of the club, we’re the big bad motorcycle gang bent on blowing the house down.
People and their hellish nightmare folklore involving us piss me off. I don’t know why I told the guys to give me a minute. I’m late for plans I made with Chevy and some girls, plus I’m on call in case the board wants to meet sooner than later to discuss Detective Mike Barlow.
But something about how this chick looked alone and frightened messed me up. It reminded me... The thought stalls out in my brain and the trip-up causes a flash of pain in my chest. Fuck it, her expression reminded me of Mom the last time I saw her—the night she died.
My mom. I shake my head to expel her ghost from my mind. One visit from one bastard trying to use me and I’m being haunted by a past I can’t change. That’s what that detective wanted—to use me for info on the club. He’s one of too many who believe the Terror are the devil’s progeny.
“Is it yes or no,” I say as I attempt to shove the battery into place. It’s damn difficult now that the frame is bent.
“Yes or no what?” Her long hair sweeps past her shoulders. She has the type of hair that would have to be pulled up if she wanted a ride on the back of my bike. Gotta admit, I like her hair, especially how it has a shine under the lights of the school’s overhang.
“If you’re okay.” I overtly glance around the mostly empty area to prove a point. “If we leave, you’ll be alone and I don’t care for that. There’s some messed-up people out there. Fucked up enough that you shouldn’t be alone.”
Breanna swallows. I’d be number one on her list of fucked-up people. With a snap, the battery lodges into place. The casing takes me a few more seconds, but I wrestle that back into alignment, too.
She wears sandals with a heel and has pink painted toes. The girl fidgets, though. It’s nerves. Her jean skirt displays some seriously mouthwatering thighs and her sleeveless blue button-down has flimsy enough fabric to hint at the outline of her bra strap. She’s this mix between conservative and sexy and Breanna Miller is bringing it our senior year.
Under my scrutiny, she bends one knee then straightens the other. Bet she hasn’t realized how half the male population was staring at her tonight as she walked down the hall.
What she does know? That she’s terrified of me. I stretch out my arm, inching her cell closer to her. If I were a great guy, I’d lay it down in the middle between us and let her scurry to it from there, but I’m not a great guy. I’m just good enough to stay behind to make sure she’s not raped by some bastard with a coke addiction who could be wandering past the school.
“Not sure if it’ll work,” I say, “but it’s back together.”
Breanna nibbles on her lower lip, then releases it as she walks toward me. She accepts the cell, and this time, she rests her back against the middle column of the school entrance instead of rushing away. Still a nice distance in case she needs to bolt. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
It’s getting darker, faster, and, under her touch, the cell springs to life and brightens her face. There’s no way I’m leaving her alone. Especially since we’ve had issues with a rival motorcycle club, the Riot. Over the past two weeks, the Riot have taken to joyriding near our town. They’re testing boundaries and the club’s on edge wondering if our unsteady peace agreement is floundering.
All of us are waiting for them to cross lines they shouldn’t and ride into town. If the Riot does drive by tonight and they hear we’ve been at the school, they might check it out. Leaving this girl alone with the likes of them is like offering fresh meat to a starved wolf.
“Need a ride?” I ask.
She waves her phone. “No, thank you. My family is on their way.”
Breanna peeks at me between swipes of her phone and I don’t miss how her eyes linger on my biceps. Good girls like Breanna like to look, but they don’t like to play.
A few more glances and a clearing of her throat. She’s waiting for me to leave. Her life sucks because I’m not going anywhere.
“I’m Razor,” I say, though I have no doubt she knows and, if not, I’m aware she can read the road name patch sewn to the front of my cut.
“I’m Breanna,” she answers in this soft tone that dances across my skin. Damn, I could listen to that voice all night long, especially if she uses that sweet tone to sigh my name as I kiss the skin of her neck.
Yeah, I would definitely like to see this girl on the back of my bike. As I said, I’m not a great guy and earlier, I was just going for good, but Breanna’s luck ran out. My bad side decided to take over. “I know.”
The right side of my mouth tips up as her face falls.
I’m about to play Breanna like she’s never been played before. I hitch my thumbs in my pockets and decide to enjoy the ride. “So, that twenty dollars? Why did you bring that up?”
“What?” She recoils.
“Do you have something you need me to protect?” I ask.
She’s lost and that’s what I’m going for. “That’s what I do—protect things. On the weekends I work for the club protecting semi-loads from being stolen. Can be dangerous stuff. Sometimes I’ve had to pull a gun. I’m assuming that’s why you brought up the money. You need me to protect something for you.”
She blinks. A lot. I have to fight to keep from smiling.
I press her again, knowing she’ll feel so bad for calling me a crook that the next time I ask, she’ll accept that ride. “Is that why you brought up the twenty dollars? Were you trying to hire me?”
And when she stares at me, unblinking, I know for a fact that Breanna Miller will be on the back of my bike tonight.
Copyright © 2016 by Katie McGarry
Playlist
Theme:
“Hey Brother” by Avicii
“Counting Stars” by OneRepublic
“Umbrella (Travis Barker Remix)” by Rihanna
“Berzerk” by Eminem
“Ride the Wind” by Poison
Oz:
“Radioactive” by Imagine Dragons
“It’s a Great Day to be Alive” by Travis Tritt
“It’s Time” by Imagine Dragons
Emily:
“Summer Girls” by LFO
“Only the Good Die Young” by Billy Joel
“Standing Still” by Jewel
Songs that helped inspire specific scenes:
When Emily and Oz first kiss:
“Kiss Tomorrow Goodbye” by Luke Bryan
Eli toward Emily and Meg:
“Let Her Go” by Passenger and “Story of My Life” by One Direction
Oz and Emily at the Pond:
“Crash My Party” by Luke Bryan
Oz and Emily’s conversation the first time she’s in the clubhouse:
&nb
sp; “One More Night” by Maroon 5
When Oz hits someone to protect Emily:
“My Songs Know What You Did in the Dark (Light Em Up)” by Fall Out Boy
Eli and Meg’s relationship:
“Springsteen” by Eric Church
Oz and Emily’s future:
“Right Here Waiting” by Richard Marx
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ISBN: 9781488797842
TITLE: NOWHERE BUT HERE
First Australian Publication 2015
Copyright © 2015 Katie McGarry
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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