Long Way Home. Katie McGarry

don’t you come in here and give Chevy and Kenneth the time to work out details?” She waves her hand toward a bedroom diagonal from the bathroom and farther away from Chevy. “I have something to drink ready for you. Tea. It’s warm and can help calm your nerves. There’s also something to eat in there if you’d like.”

      As if I could eat, but I swallow in an effort to ease my dry mouth. I follow her, and once I reach the doorway, I jerk back. The man with the scar stands in the corner with his arms crossed over his chest.

      “Don’t freak,” he says. “If you remember correctly, I’m the one that kept that bullet from going into your body. And as a public service announcement, I’m not into seventeen-year-old girls nor am I going to hurt one in front of my mother.”

      The scar across his face—that’s from Eli. I’ve heard about this my entire life. Eli fell in love with this man’s sister, Meg. Meg left with Eli, had a baby with Eli, and when she refused to return to her family, this man tried to force Meg to come home and Eli came to her rescue. The bad part of the rescue is that Eli became so violent, he almost killed this man and Eli went to prison for attempted murder.

      Scarred Guy’s mother sits on the bed and crosses her ankles. “See? Justin confirmed you’re safe.”

      They aren’t using road names. They’re trying to make me feel like they’re normal, like I’m safe. I glance down the hallway at Chevy again and he looks as lost and bewildered as me.

      Chevy cocks his head to the kitchen, then gestures with his chin for me to remain where I am. He returns his attention to whoever is speaking to him. He’s okay and he doesn’t want me to be a part of what they’re talking about. If he’s okay, maybe I am, too, for the moment.

      I rest my shoulder against the door frame of the room.

      Jenna and her son share a look because—shocker—the kidnap victim isn’t cooperating.

      “I’m ready to go home,” I say.

      Jenna mashes her lips together. “I’ll tell Kenneth.”

      She leaves, goes down the hallway to the kitchen, and then I hear the door to the outside open and close. Funny how I didn’t hear her make a peep to Kenneth.

      Scarred Guy Justin still stands in the corner, still has his arms crossed over his chest, still watches me. Chevy wants me to stay here and I don’t.

      “Let’s cut to the chase,” Justin says. “We weren’t after Chevy. It was you we wanted to talk to, but our guy got out of control. He thought he had you alone, he was ordered to convince you to come talk to me or Dad. Fiend didn’t know Chevy was going to be there when they pulled up, and when that kid started swinging, our guy lost his mind.”

      “Well, gee, I guess that makes everything okay.”

      His lips edge up but then fall back down. “Fiend will be punished, so there’s no need for you and Chevy to go all crazy and cause legal problems for us later.”

      “I feel so much better,” I say drily. “Besides, you’re full of crap. Chevy’s the one with the possible power play, I’m nobody.”

      “We’ve been watching you for a while,” he continues. “You’re the one that brought Emily to us this past summer.”

      I readjust as the need to shed my skin overwhelms me. I did bring Eli’s daughter to Louisville, but in our defense, neither of us knew at the time that her grandparents were Riot royalty. She thought she was meeting her long-lost normal grandparents, at a time when she really needed some normal and some answers in her life.

      “You lost your dad, and I’m sorry. Frat was a good man.”

      Anger wells up in me from the tip of my toes and then explodes out of my mouth. “You know nothing about my father.”

      “Untrue. Your father was the one reason why the Riot and Terror never went Apocalypse Now. He had a steady head. Smart as hell. If he was still around, none of what happened this summer surrounding Emily would have happened. He would have figured out a way for Eli to see her, for us to see her, and she wouldn’t have been caught between us, trying to figure out who’s good and who’s bad.”

      Easy. If I had to pick, they’re both bad, but the Terror are annoying-little-brother bad and the Riot are serial-killer bad. No-brainer.

      “Your father wanted peace more than anything else. Did you know he was on his way to meet me when he died? Once every three months, he met with me and he listened to our list of grievances with the Terror and he’d tried to explain how we somehow had done the Terror wrong.”

      I straighten away from the door frame. “Are you saying you killed him?”

      Justin’s face screws up. “Fuck no. I respected the hell out of Frat, regardless of whose colors he had on his back. He wanted peace. Our club wants peace. His death was an accident. Trust me, we looked into it just as much as your club did. We weren’t sure if your side was trying to take him out because he was the one person who was able to see both sides and tried to keep us all from killing each other.”

      I roll my eyes and Justin catches it. “You don’t believe me?”

      “No. I may not know much, but your club is the one always pushing on the Terror to pay for riding through your territory and your club is always the one hurting Terror members.” I hold out my arms in a “hello.”

      “There are rules, ways things are done, and the Terror think they’re above it.”

      Maybe they do, maybe they don’t, but regardless... “Your politics have nothing to do with me.”

      “It does.”

      He’s delusional. “It doesn’t.”

      “All that stuff I mentioned, we could possibly get past it, but what we can’t get past is Eli. He took my sister, turned her against us, and because of him she’s not in our life. My niece isn’t in my life.”

      Emily is the one person I envy more than anyone else. She’s a blood child of the Terror and the Riot and she grew up far, far away from both clubs.

      My temples begin to throb. I’m tired and I’m ready to fall to the floor in exhaustion. “Why are you talking to me?”

      “As I said, we’ve been watching you. You’re not happy with the Terror. You’re not happy with Eli. What if I could offer you an opportunity to do what your father always wanted? What if you could bring peace to the clubs? What if by doing so, we’ll help you get the Terror out of your life and help get you out of your town?”

      I’d be lying if I said he didn’t have my full attention. “If you want peace, all you have to do is leave the Terror alone.”

      “We will leave the Terror alone, once we have Eli out of the way. He’s hurt too many people we love for him to be around. We can’t kill him. My mother still has hopes Emily will want a relationship with us someday. If Eli dies, she’ll blame us. But if Eli happens to be caught doing something illegal, caught betraying his club, caught by the police in the process and sent to prison, then we’ll be happy and we’ll pretend the Terror never existed.”

      My blood freezes in my veins, and I shake like I’m having a seizure. “Why are you telling me this?”

      Justin looks straight into my eyes. “I want to frame Eli. Make it look like he’s been embezzling money from the club’s security company and from their clients.”

      Eli may not be my favorite person, but... “No one will believe that.”

      “Leave the belief up to me, but in order to frame Eli, I need account numbers. The club’s account numbers, the clients’ account numbers, as many numbers as I can get my hands on.”

      The throbbing in my temples increases. “What is it you think I can do?”

      “Your father was the accountant for the club and for the security business. We’ve