Part 28 (1/2)
I power on my phone and it reads seven forty. Twenty minutes until the proverbial Reign of Terror midnight for minors. ”Sure.”
He inclines his head to the clubhouse. ”I gotta say some goodbyes.”
It's implied he's telling me to stay. I grin an okay and he does that heart-stopping caress one more time before looking over at Oz and Chevy. They both nod at whatever he silently requested.
”Do you visit Snowflake often?” I ask Emily after Razor disappears into the swarm of bodies.
”Not as much as I'd like. Eli's all paranoid about the Ri-”
Oz interrupts her with a clearing of his throat and her cheeks redden. Something important was about to be revealed and my mind grabs the mystery. There's a heavy silence that follows and none of us can figure out what to say to make it any less awkward.
I choose the old standby for awkward. ”Do you mind if I use the restroom?”
The thought of going back into the clubhouse causes my stomach to flip, but it's the only excuse I can think of to get me and Emily alone.
Emily s.h.i.+fts off Oz. ”I'll take her to the cabin.”
”Eli said no one but you and the board goes into the cabin.” There's a bit of repentance in Oz's expression, but his words are firm enough that he obviously won't break this rule.
Emily stiffens like his statement was a blow. ”I like her, and she shouldn't have to go into the clubhouse if she doesn't want.”
”And you promised to follow the rules,” Oz says as if he's implying something else.
Emily shrugs like she doesn't care and pivots away from him. ”Fine. Then I'll show her where the bathroom is in the clubhouse and then you should go home or stay in the clubhouse or do whatever you want, since that rule means you can't come in the cabin, either. And according to the rules, I've been ordered back to the cabin after eight, so have fun without me.”
Oz's head falls back as Emily s.n.a.t.c.hes my hand and weaves us through the throngs of men.
”You don't mean that,” Oz calls out, and I know he doesn't see Emily's smirk. Oh my G.o.d, she's a little devil playing him like a violin.
”Yes, I do,” she yells back, then spins in his direction, smirk completely gone. ”Have fun being by yourself tonight.”
The men around us laugh and I blush when someone suggests something about Oz becoming good friends with his right hand. I expect Oz to be angry, but he chuckles as he and Chevy stand. Emily pulls on my hand again and sweeps me into the clubhouse. I don't understand any of these people or how they interact with each other.
Oz and Chevy track us. It's weird yet chivalrous and it's then I understand what Razor was asking them to do-to protect me.
We enter a hallway adjacent to the kitchen and there's a deep line for the woman's bathroom. Most of the women don't have cuts like Rebecca's and there's more skin than there is clothing.
”It must be getting seriously close to eight,” Emily mumbles, then shouts, ”Eli's daughter coming through.”
”Emily!” Oz yells, and I wish I could own the flirtatious yet angry expression Emily throws Oz.
”What?”
”She can use the bathroom in the cabin.”
Emily places a patronizing hand to her chest. ”Why, thank you, Oz, what would we ever do without you?”
She lets go of me when Oz invades her s.p.a.ce. Every part of them touches. ”I have a few ideas of what we can do together.”
Emily smiles wickedly up at him, winks, then grabs my hand again. It's a blur as we slink past bands of men and eventually we trot up the stairs to the log cabin. Once we're in and she checks to see that Oz and Chevy have chosen to stay on the front porch, she whispers, ”You have questions, don't you?”
”Yes.” It's total disorientation. The clubhouse was so...beyond normal and this...this is like a modern-day storybook cottage. I'm shocked. In a good way. The walls are made of ma.s.sive tree trunks, but everything about it is straight out of one of my mother's home magazines. Nice but comfortable furniture, a television, bright lighting and pictures. A ton of framed pictures hang out on tables and bookcases.
”Breanna,” Emily urges. ”We don't have much time. What do you want to know?”
I jerk back to reality. Questions. Razor. ”What is the RMC?”
”I had a feeling you were going to ask that,” Emily says as a curse, then peers outside. At the foot of the stairs, two huge men with cuts that say Prospect stand as if they are sentries to a kingdom. ”We can't have ears for this conversation.”
Emily drags me down the hallway, we take a sharp left and she shuts the door to the bedroom. On the bed, Lars lifts his head and wags his tail.
Emily peeks out the window as if someone might be eavesdropping. ”We have maybe five minutes, so let's get to the point. You can't tell anyone I'm telling you this, okay? Because the reason I'm doing it is that they stupidly tried to keep it from me and it backfired and you're dating Razor now, so you should know.”
”Okay.”
Emily tugs on the ends of her long hair. ”The RMC is a rival motorcycle club in Louisville. The Terror and the Riot hate each other. In the past, it was bad, but they have a peace treaty now, but it seems to be on the edge of falling apart. I'm telling you this because if you see anyone from the Riot, you need to get out quick, especially if they know you're the girlfriend of one of the Terror.”
The click in my head is so audible that I'm surprised Emily didn't hear it. I unlocked part of a threat and that threat was from the Riot Motorcycle Club.
”Eli and the club are freaking out. The Riot ran through on their bikes a couple of weeks ago and then Razor went after them on his own. If Cyrus hadn't caught up to him, there is no telling if Razor would have been hurt. Because of that Eli has been stonewalling me on visiting.”
My mouth is completely dropped open. ”Razor what?”
”Went after them,” she repeats.
”Is that who shot Razor?” It's like I can't draw enough air into my body.
Emily goes completely still as if she's a statue. ”Say that again?”
Secrets. Violet told me that this is a life of secrets. ”Razor was shot. It's part of the reason why they're throwing this party.”
Emily's eyes dart to the thoughts in her head. ”I was told it was for me, but this makes more sense. But we're off track. Look, I like you. You're funny and nice and everyone in the club is seriously praying you two work because, to be honest, Razor's freaking suicidal.”
I blink several times and Emily's expression falls. ”I don't mean, like, he's tried it or he's vlogging his last words or anything. I mean he does these stupid things like that fight you talked about or chasing after the Riot or...”
Teetering on the ledge of a bridge over a rus.h.i.+ng river. ”I understand.” I try to force myself out of the long tunnel of shock. ”Then it's safe now? You're here in Kentucky, so the Riot is no longer a problem?”
”I don't know. I wasn't supposed to know about Razor going after the Riot, but I overheard Oz and Eli talking about it when they visited me in Florida. It drives me freaking insane, but this club is super secretive and that's not going to change. I mean, for G.o.d's sake, I consider Razor a friend and he was shot and no one told me.”
”If it isn't safe, then why are you here?”
Emily gestures to the dresser and on it are two wooden boxes. ”Those are Olivia's ashes. She was like a mom to Oz and Razor, but she was my biological grandmother. She left us instructions of what she wants us to do with her remains. One box is for me and Oz and the other is for Razor. Her letter to me and Oz said that we had to spread her ashes in Kentucky. Eli let me come because I told him we were being disrespectful to his mother if we pushed it out any further.”
I walk over to the boxes and take an interest in the one that has an envelope with Razor's name resting on top of it. ”What is Razor supposed to do with the ashes?”
”No one knows. Not even Razor. Olivia left him the bylaws of the club and said when he figured it out, he would know what to do with her ashes. What's even odder is that Oz and I received our letter after she pa.s.sed, but she had specific instructions for when Razor was to get his. He received his a few weeks ago and it was related to some sort of event that no one will tell me about. Olivia was awesome, but she could be weird.”
I note the wistful tone in her voice-the same one Razor has when he speaks of Olivia. She must have been someone truly amazing. Behind the box is a stack of papers stapled together and I tilt my head. ”Are these the bylaws?”
”Yes, but we need to go. Razor will be looking for you and Oz will be p.i.s.sed if he finds out I'm telling you this.”