Long Way Home (Thunder Road #3)(59)

It’s awful that it happens. Terrible. It’s the worst thing a best friend can do, but the smile on my face is too large and I can’t quite swallow the entire laugh. Razor lowers his head and mutters a curse and I do my best to sober up.

“I’m sorry,” I choke through another swallowed laugh. “I couldn’t help it. It’s just that I was kidnapped and now I’m home and there’s all this crap and all everyone wants to talk about with me is the Riot and then you ask something that’s just so...”

“Pathetic,” he adds.

I lose the smile and my heart is heavy for him. “No. Your question was just so...eighteen. Sometimes I forget we’re only eighteen.”

“Seventeen for you,” he says, and I don’t disagree because there’s no point.

“To answer your question, yes, she talked about you. She thinks you’re Satan because Breanna’s no longer in town.”

He bobs his head like her assessment might be right. “You’re friends with Addison now?”

“We shared French fries and a lunch table. Considering how the rest of the school has treated me, that’s the closest I’ve got to a friend.”

“I’m your friend.” He offers a sly smile.

“God help my soul.”

He chuckles in agreement. “Think you can put in a good word for me with Addison? Breanna loves her and someday she’ll be back in town. When that happens, I want to fit as good as I can in her life. The best friend is a good place to start.”

Yeah, best friends can make or break any relationship. “I’ll do my best, but keep in mind I’m all out of miracles. I used them all up in that basement.”

“Your best is all I need.” He hops down from the counter, and before he leaves, he glances at me from over his shoulder. “When you’re ready to talk about what really happened between you and the Riot, I want you to know I’m around.”

The way his blue eyes bore into me makes me uneasy and now I’m the one wrapping my arms around myself. “Eli talked to you, right?”

He nods his head once.

“Then you know everything.”

“As I said, when you’re ready to spill on what really happened, I’m here.” And with that, he leaves me alone with my glass of water and my scattered thoughts.





CHEVY

ELI AND CYRUS showed at six with six cups of coffee, a box of donuts and the truck to take Violet home to get ready for school. After taking a shower and getting dressed, I’ve run out of reasons to hide in my room. My grandfather is waiting and he’s waiting in my mother’s home. Hell must have frozen over last night.

Cyrus is sitting at the kitchen table, his coffee in his hand as he stares at the fridge. Mom covered it in artwork from me as a kid, pictures of the two of us through the years and a list of emergency numbers in case I need help. All of them are friends of hers and none of them Reign of Terror. She tries, but I’ve never let her run the Terror from my life.

I find a clean glass in the dishwasher, pull out orange juice from the fridge, pour, return it, then lean against the counter. Cyrus watches me, and I watch him. Feels like the few seconds before someone yells charge on enemy territory.

“You should have told us you were leaving last night and you especially should have told us you were leaving with Violet,” he finally says.

“We wanted to be alone.”

“We give you privacy at the cabin.”

“We needed to be alone on our own terms. At some point, the club’s going to have to give up on watching us and let us live our lives.”

Cyrus strokes his beard. “You sound like Violet.”

“She’s got some good points and she’s worth listening to.”

“You’ve been home two weeks. Are you going to be mad at us for making sure the girl you love is safe?”

Kick straight to the nuts.

“Won’t lie,” he continues. “I can’t imagine what it’s like for the two of you. Can’t imagine the demons that come along with a night like you had. Me and the club, we might not always be right, but we try. Don’t fault us for that.” Silence as he circles his finger around the rim of his coffee cup. “We care about you and Violet. When I heard you two were taken...”

Cyrus shakes his head and my chest hurts. He looks up at me then, straight in the eye. “I didn’t want to lose you. Still don’t. I’ve lost friends, lost your father, lost a woman who was like a daughter to me and then my granddaughter. I lost my wife. I’ve done too much losing for any man and my soul can’t take much more. You’re more than a grandson to me. You’re a part of me and I can’t take losing you.”

A hard man. A stoic man. Taught me to tie my shoes, a tie and a slipknot for the boat at the pond. Taught me to pet a dog, make eye contact when shaking a hand and how to throw a punch. Taught me how to be a man of integrity in a world that says integrity is a relic.

I drop into the chair across from him. “The football mess—I know you want to help, but you barging in and yelling at the board won’t help. It will only give them the proof they need.”

“Are you ashamed of this club?”

“No.”

“But you only want our help on your terms? Sorry to tell you, that’s not how we work.”