A part of me feels better that he’s supporting me in this, but the other half sinks in guilt. “Hey, Dad?”
“Yes, Em?”
“I love you.”
Dad grins in a way that causes me to soar. “I love you, too.”
Good.
That’s good.
Oz
I WAIT ON the front porch while Emily’s locked in her room getting ready. A whine of hinges and Olivia joins me. She wears a top that’s more corset than shirt and a pair of painted-on jeans. She must be scheduled for another MRI. “If you don’t watch it that hospital in Louisville is going to be down an MRI tech. Cyrus will be pissed that you’re dressing up for your smart boy toy.”
“A little flirting doesn’t hurt anyone. It’s something people do when they feel alive.”
All the happiness drains out of me and I scan the yard. She’s dying. Inside her is something that is spreading and she’s dying.
“You’re going to have to deal with this,” she says. “With me. I’m short on time and miracles. I thought having the wake while I was alive would help, but I don’t think it has with you.”
“Are you having a stroke? Because you’re talking nonsense.”
She chuckles at my response, but then the lightheartedness fades. “Why aren’t you living?”
“Speak English.”
“While I love that Emily is here, and that she is because you’re doing what Eli asked of you, I’m wondering when you’re going to start living your life.”
“If it wasn’t for Emily, I’d be on that run making money for the company instead of sitting here with my thumb up my ass.” I don’t want to have this conversation. It’s one I avoid because I’ll be damned if I’ll let my anger get the best of me, so I switch gears. “You need to stop dropping clues to Emily about her past.”
She flutters her eyelashes as if she could pass for a Southern belle. “Why, Oz, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you don’t. Eli flat-out told me he doesn’t want Emily to know anything and you go and tell her to hunt for Honeysuckle Ridge. She’s asking people about it, and if she asks the wrong person she’s going to end up in deep shit that I can’t pull her out of.”
Olivia admires her nails like we aren’t discussing topics that could harm Emily. “She really did do a good job. You’re tasked with protecting Emily, correct?”
“Yes,” I say with exasperation. “And you’re making it harder.”
“If you want to keep Emily out of trouble, then help her discover the truth.”
My muscles lock up. “You mean tell her what I know.”
“No, I mean help her find out. Even you don’t know what it is that Eli and Meg are hiding and, you’re right, Emily asking about Honeysuckle Ridge will get her in trouble. If you want to protect her, then help Emily discover the truth. Become her ally.”
“If you want Emily to know so badly, then you tell her, but stop messing with my future. If I help her then I lose my shot at the security company and the club.”
“I can’t tell her. I promised Eli I wouldn’t.”
I swear to God fire is shooting out of my eyes. “And I gave Eli my word she wouldn’t find out. You can’t betray Eli or the club, but you don’t mind if I do.”
“You aren’t part of the Terror yet. You have a grace period. The three-piece patch is not on your back, otherwise you would have already told Eli I gave Emily the picture.” Olivia lays a fist over her heart and drops her voice. “I’m asking you to save my granddaughter and yourself.”
I narrow my eyes. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Olivia rests her freezing hand on my arm. “The club has never been a herd.”
My mind mulls over her words, searching for her meaning, but I come up blank.
“At its heart, it’s about the individual’s search for freedom.” She squeezes my arm.
“I know.”
“I don’t think you do, and Emily doesn’t know this, either. If you help her, you’ll save her. If you help her, then maybe you’ll find yourself.”
Dammit. “I already know who I am! You’re the one who can’t accept it.”
Olivia doesn’t flinch from my words. She smiles instead and puts her hand on my face. “You know what I find amazing? How much alike you and Emily are.”
Her words are a fist to my gut. “What does that mean?”
“You’re both afraid to find out who you might be.” She lightly pats my cheek then lowers her hand. “That’s the type of fear that can damage your life. Help Emily and I promise you’ll be helping yourself, as well.”
Emily walks onto the porch wearing an old pair of Olivia’s boots, a skintight pair of jeans, thanks to Violet, and a T-shirt. A thin piece of blue ties at the back of her neck.
“I’m ready to go.” Emily warily takes in Olivia and then me. “Is everything okay?”
No, it’s not, but there’s not a damn thing I can do to fix it. I look Emily over and begin to imagine her in a bikini. Parts south of my brain start spinning fantasies that will never happen. I run a hand over my face. I’m looking forward to this too much. “I need your helmet, Olivia.”
“Don’t have it.” She turns her back to us as she returns to the living room. “It’s a short drive. Some wind in her hair won’t kill her.”