Cyrus drops into a chair and Dad leans against the closed door. “They’re going to let Eli go home tomorrow.”
Which means Emily will be returning to Florida. Her dad’s been calm. Very patient. I see why Emily worships him, but that laissez-faire attitude he had in regards to the club, which we appreciated even as it boggled our minds, has disappeared.
Last night, Emily and I stole a few moments alone in this room and between kisses, she told me her dad has rescinded his belief that the club is a group of grown men playing dress-up. While I’m glad he understands the gravity of Emily’s situation, it’s made his interactions with any of us frigid at best. Not a great way to start a long-distance relationship with his daughter.
“How did the meeting go with the Riot?” I ask. Cyrus and a hand-picked contingency sat down for peace talks last night. Each man in the room was in the thick of it.
“Business negotiations with them have tanked,” says Cyrus. “They want us to ask for permission to ride on their roads and they want a percentage of our profits for the businesses we run security for in their area.”
Nothing new on that front. “How’d you guys respond?”
Pigpen flashes that supermodel grin. “We told them to shove it.”
I offer him my fist. He bumps it. Pigpen is one of those men that we stand solid for. He fought in Afghanistan. Served several terms in the Army as a Ranger. He won’t ask anyone for permission to exercise his God-given rights.
“What did they say about Emily?” I ask.
“They’ve agreed to leave Emily alone,” Cyrus answers.
Bent forward, I rub my palms together. It’s like there’s a layer of razor blades between my skin and bones that won’t allow Emily’s safety to be treated so casually. “That’s it? They shoot Eli, but don’t kill him, and all of a sudden they decide to play fair? I’m not buying they suddenly grew a conscience.”
Cyrus and Dad share a long look and Cyrus continues, “In the end, we don’t know, but I reminded them that Emily lives in a different world. One that contains restraining orders and prison time for breaking those orders. Most of their guys have records and a gang task force watching their every move. Emily’s a thorn in their side, but she’s not a child anymore. She’s an adult and they aren’t going to force a relationship with someone who doesn’t want it. It’s not in their best interest.”
“We’ll keep a close eye on her,” Dad says. “We’ve already contacted the head of the Florida chapter and they agreed to stay on the situation and let us know if the Riot run through.”
“The best thing Emily can do,” adds Hook, “is go home.”
I let his words sink in. It’s what’s best for Emily and it’s what’s breaking my heart. “All right.”
There’s a long stretch of silence and when I glance up, they’re staring at me like I’ve laid my head down on the guillotine. “What?”
“We can’t push off the police anymore. They’re coming to interview Eli.”
“What about me and Emily?”
Cyrus inches to the edge of his seat. “Eli and I don’t want Emily involved in this. You drove Eli in. You’re the one who dragged him into the ER. Emily faded into the background. Technically the police got a statement from you when you brought him in.”
Police arrived first. Lawyer later. I told the cops I found Eli bleeding on the floor. I wasn’t lying. I wasn’t keeping the truth from them, either. I was more concerned with whether or not Eli was going to die.
“They haven’t asked to speak with you again,” Cyrus says.
Eli and Cyrus want me and Emily to lie. Since I was young, Cyrus has been my guidepost. Olivia, the heart. I’ve always done everything he’s said and when I have a problem, he’s who I’ve sought advice from. “Do you guys mind if I talk to Dad for a few minutes?”
Without another word, Hook and Pigpen rise and leave the room. Cyrus stays seated. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stick around?”
“You mind giving me a few with Dad?” I repeat.
Cyrus sizes me up like the question shocked him and I can’t help the flash of guilt. It’s like not discussing this with him is a betrayal. “I’ll be right out there if you want to talk.”
I nod and Cyrus leaves. Dad remains standing and I wonder if he’s also replaying the last full conversation we had. “What’s on your mind?”
“I thought this club was legit?”
He eyes me warily. “It is.”
“Then why am I being asked to lie to the police?”
Dad eases into the seat beside me. “I don’t think they consider it lying as much as they consider it not mentioning certain details.”
A smile tugs on my lips as I remember Emily informing me with that impatient sway of her head that not mentioning something was the same as lying. She never has a problem calling me out on my integrity issues. “A few days ago, you said you’d fight for me.”
“I did.”
“What if I ask you not to fight for me, but at least stand with me? Because I’m about to piss a lot of people off.”
* * *
My footsteps echo in the long hallway as I head toward the pinnacle of this running disaster. Razor’s on guard outside Eli’s door and he opens it the moment he spots me. The voice of a sportscaster drifts out and I hesitate.
What I’m about to do will change everything. Me. Emily. Eli. The club. My parents. Everything. But sometimes what we need the most is what we fight the hardest: change.
From the waiting room at the other end of the hallway, Pigpen’s head snaps up. Soon the rest of the board appears as they stand. Dad walks ahead of me and holds up his hands in the nonverbal stop sign. I’m not sure if he agrees with my decision, but I straighten as I step inside, knowing Dad’s on my side.
Except for Eli, the room’s empty. Emily’s dad took her out to lunch. Mom herded Olivia to an appointment. Razor closes the door and, with the click of a button, Eli turns off the TV.
He’s lying on top of the covers in a pair of jeans. Because Eli’s a tough son of a bitch, he was placed in a regular room a few days ago. He’s shirtless and there’s a bandage over his chest where the bullet went clean through. “You don’t agree?”
Incapable of bullshitting. It’s what I like about Eli. What I also like? He knows what’s going on without anyone telling him.