Nowhere But Here (Thunder Road #1)(92)
Author: Katie McGarry

“I’ll visit them.” I choke on a sob. “I’ll visit them. I’ll live with them. I’ll write them letters every day. I’ll video chat. I’ll do whatever!”

My heart beats so hard and so loud that breathing is causing pain. Living is causing me pain. “I’ll give them whatever they want!”

“That’s the point!” Oz shouts, and I tremble with the vibration of his voice. He lowers his hands to my hips and I know it’s so he can carry me again. “That’s the point. He’s trying to save you from this.”

I grab on to his shirt and my head is shaking back and forth or maybe I’m just shaking because none of this is happening. “This is real life! This is real life and this does not happen!”

And there’s a pop and my entire body flinches. I’m holding my breath and I realize Oz is, too. He briefly closes his eyes as his fingers tighten on my hips.

“What was that?” I ask.

Oz begins to nudge me to the road, but I dig my feet into the ground. “What was that?!”

A surge of adrenaline pours into my veins. I slip to the right, and as Oz tries to capture me, I duck to the left and run past. He’s yelling my name. Telling me to wait. I don’t. I hit the door and shove through. Past the foyer, into the kitchen and my entire world shatters when I see Eli on the floor. Blood pooling on the white linoleum.

My knees collide to the ground and my hands hover over his lifeless body. He’s dead. Oh, God, he’s dead. My stomach cramps and I bend over with the sharp sting. I never told him that I love him. I never told him that I love him. Oh, God. Oh my God.

“Emily!” the voice is echoed in my head and when I turn, it’s like Oz is sprinting toward me from a long hallway. My face is hot. My body is on fire.

He’s dead. Eli’s dead. My father is dead.

The man who claims to be my grandfather walks in our direction and I lean over Eli as if I can protect him, as if I can bring him back to life.

“Let him go,” he says. “He’s gone.”

“Get away from us!” I touch Eli’s face, angling him toward me. His cheek is still warm, but I hate how his head flops with no resistance. I’m not letting him go.

An arm around my waist and I’m off the floor. It’s Oz and he’s pushing me into his side, trying to force my head into his chest. “Don’t look, Emily. Don’t look.”

My hand brushes against something hard. Something metal. And as Oz continues to drive my cheek into him, I catch sight of movement on the floor. A twitch of a finger. Eli’s alive. He’s not dead, he’s alive.

My fingers wrap around the metal object, I pull it out and the world that was speeding up and slowing down ceases to move. All the shouts, all the chaos is silenced as I point a gun at my uncle.

Oz

IT’S LIKE A rubber band that’s been stretched and then it snaps with the contract. Emily owns everyone’s undivided attention. She’s shaking. Her body. Her head. More importantly her arms, her hands and the finger that is too close to the trigger.

The safety is off and I regret showing her where it was at.

“Give me the gun, Emily,” I say.

“You don’t understand,” the woman with blond hair pleads. “Eli stole you and your mother from us. He almost killed my son. Eli agreed to this!”

A violent shiver racks Emily and fear snakes through me.

“Will you shut the fuck up?” I bite out and then maneuver so that I’m beside Emily. My hand hovers over the gun. “Give me the gun.”

“He’s alive!” She sobs then quickly swallows. “He’s alive.”

My gaze flickers to Eli and hope fights alongside the numb anger crawling within me.

“His finger twitched,” she says.

Bodies do that. They twitch. Sometimes move, but I won’t tell Emily that. “Then give me the gun and trust me to get us out of here.”

She sucks in a breath. Another. And when I place my hands over hers, Emily releases her grip and I take possession of the gun. The moment I’m solely holding it, there’s movement across the room.

I grab Emily and push her behind me and into a wall. With one arm keeping Emily safe, I aim the gun, pointing it at the one person who can call this entire showdown off: the president and Emily’s grandfather.

There’s guns trained on me. The sound of the safeties coming off reverberate in my head. But I don’t look at that threat. I keep my focus.

The president steps into the kitchen and stands next to his son. Sure enough, a gun is in his hand, too. “How are we going to play this, son?”

I am not his son and Emily is not their granddaughter. There’s a trembling inside me even though my outside is rock solid. Eli’s unresponsive with a bullet in his chest. His blood spills onto the floor. The urge is to pull the trigger and to keep firing until we battle our way out.

There’s a fluttering on my shoulder blade. A whisper of a touch that reminds me of what’s important. “I’m going to pick up Eli, carry him out of here and Emily is going to walk out with me. And whatever debt Eli owed you will be considered paid in full.”

The president tips his chin to the gun in my hand. “Don’t think so. We let you go and then you’ll come back here and get your revenge later. I’ve seen it a hundred times.”

“That’s you.” I click the safety into place and lower the gun in front of me. “That’s how you play and I’m going to explain to you the rest of the game. I’m not going to raise my gun and get revenge and you’re going to let us go and if you don’t, I can guarantee there will be cops at your doorstep in the next few minutes.”

He narrows his eyes on me. “You’re going to snitch?”

Violet will if we don’t contact her in fifteen minutes. I held up three fingers—five minutes for each one. “You have your code and we have ours and mine means taking care of my family. The choice is yours, but I’m telling you, I won’t be the person going to prison.”

The president studies Eli. “He’s gone and, if he isn’t, he won’t make it to the hospital.”

“That’s my problem, but as I said, whatever blood has been shed between the two of you, it’s equal now. Eye for an eye.”

We continue to stare at each other and I break the silence. “Clock’s ticking. I can start a countdown until we hear sirens if you’d like.”

He tosses his hand toward the front door. “Get them out of here.”