The Rocker Who Holds Her (The Rocker 5)

I breathed a sigh of relief. They hadn’t found Emmie yet.

Jesse started to get out of the backseat of the Cadillac SUV that we had rented at the airport, but I grabbed his arm before he or the others could get out. “Keep a level head. We have to play this right so we can take Emmie with us.”

My band brothers nodded, their jaws clenched hard as we all finally got out of the SUV and headed for the social worker and the cop. I was beyond happy that the social worker was a female and young. She wasn’t bad to look at, but she wasn’t anywhere near beautiful. Her hair was pulled back in a tight bun that made her face look too harsh to be pretty. Her body, while slender, was hidden under unflattering clothes that hung off her body in an unappealing way.

The cop was someone I remembered well. He had been one of the cops that had arrested Drake when he had beaten his sick-ass stepdad unconscious six years before. After Drake and Shane’s mother had killed the bastard, the cops let Drake go. The man sitting on Emmie’s front steps had even come to Mrs. Nelson’s funeral.

Recognizing us, the cop stood. “Boys.” Officer Brady nodded his head in greeting. “I figured you would be showing up sooner than later.”

I offered the man my hand. “She’s ours.” It was a simple enough answer, but a true one. Emmie had belonged to us since she was five years old.

“This is Miss Hill. By law she has to take Ember. She’s only fifteen and as far as I know there are no living relatives.”

I shook my head and pulled out the paper that I had been waiting three years to use. Three years of paying five grand a month to the Devil for this one piece of paper. I would have paid more—double, triple, fuck ten times that amount—each month. Emmie’s mother had set that amount and I wasn’t going to tell her no. Not when she had given me what I wanted.

I unfolded the simple sheet of paper with the woman’s handwriting on it, and more importantly her signature at the bottom, and handed it over to Officer Brady. “She’s Jesse’s sister.”

The man raised an eyebrow at the lie but didn’t say anything as he read the paper that we had been smart enough to have notarized. If there had been time I would have made that bitch go one step further and had a lawyer draw up the right legal documents, but there hadn’t been time.

“Mr. Thorton, is this true?” Miss Hill asked after reading the notarized sheet of paper in the dim light that came from the cop car’s headlights. “You are Ember Jameson’s brother?”

Jesse’s father had died from a massive stroke just two years ago so there wasn’t anyone that could dispute our claim. Unless they wanted a DNA test, but with the notarized letter there was no reason for that. Jesse nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I’m her brother.”

The social worker frowned down at the paper then let out a frustrated sigh. “Well, we will have to speak to the notary that signed off on this. But I am sorry to inform you that Ember has run away.”

I shrugged. “I’m sure she is just upset about her mother. We know all of Emmie’s hiding spots. Finding her won’t be a problem … that is if you are letting us have her?”

Cool blue eyes looked right through me. “No. I am not letting you have her.” My stomach actually twisted into a knot until she turned that cool gaze back to Jesse. “But as her only living relative, I will sign her over into your custody, Mr. Thorton, as soon as the notary has authenticated all signatures.”

There was no describing the relief I felt. Knowing that Emmie was ours now—okay, Jesse’s but whatever—was like having the pressure of the world lifted from my shoulders. The social worker handed Jesse a stack of papers, told him he would have to come down to her office first thing the next morning with Emmie, and left with Officer Brady. I waited until the cop car’s taillights had been out of sight for a good ten minutes before calling Emmie’s cellphone.

“Nik?”

“Are you hungry?” I suddenly felt as if I were starving. “How about some pizza?”

“I’m not hungry.” She sounded tired but there was still no emotion in her voice. I couldn’t begin to understand what was wrong with Emmie until I had her warm, fed, and safely tucked into bed back in the hotel I had reserved for us.

“Let’s get out of here, baby doll.” I glanced at Shane, Drake, and Jesse. They were all looking a little anxious to get out of here. “We’re all tired and need a good night’s sleep.”

“Are the cops gone?”

“All gone, sweetheart,” I promised her.

“I can go with you? They aren’t going to take me away?” There was a small hitch in her voice this time.

“Ah, Emmie. Do you honestly think we would let them take you from us? No way! You’re ours now.”

The phone disconnected and at first I thought maybe something had happened to her. “Emmie?” I glanced around, hoping that she had hidden somewhere close by. “Emmie!” I shouted her name when I didn’t get an answer.

The others started calling for her too. Drake and Shane headed off to some of her usual hiding spots. Jesse rubbed a hand over his bald head, worry in his eyes. “Em?” He turned in a full circle. “Where are you, Em?”

The sound of tin bending caught my attention, and I had a sense of déjà vu when I saw thin legs crawling out from under her trailer. Only this time Emmie wasn’t a beaten little rag doll, hiding from her mother until we could find her and keep her safe. Now she was ours and we were taking her home with us.

Jesse was like lightning. I still couldn’t get over how fast and smooth that big man could move. Before Emmie’s head could come out from under the trailer he had her in his arms. “Stop, I smell bad,” she complained when Jesse held on to her for dear life.

“Don’t give a fuck.” Jesse laughed as he swung her around and around. “God, Emmie, it’s so good to see you again.”

I grimaced. We hadn’t seen Emmie in person in nearly eighteen months. Texting and phone calls throughout the day didn’t show us how she was growing. And she sure as fuck had grown since the last time I had laid eyes on her. She was at least four inches taller, her auburn hair hanging half way down her back. And even in the dim light of a distant streetlamp I could tell that Emmie was no longer my pretty little baby doll.

Fifteen year old Emmie was beautiful!

--

It took us four days to get everything situated with Emmie.