Long Way Home (Thunder Road #3)(81)

She blinks several times and the dawning of understanding on her face guts me open.

“You would prefer to think your father was a traitor and that Cyrus knew and has been lying to you over it rather than to find out that Cyrus cut your father off because he chose not to be part of the club, wouldn’t you?”

My eyes burn and I pivot away from Violet into the dark night, but only a few steps into the woods and I turn back. I can’t walk away from her anymore. I can’t keep running from the truth. I blink away the blurry vision. “Yes.”

Violet places her hand over her heart, then sheds the blanket as she stands. “They love you. I promise, they love you.”

“And they loved James, yet I’m standing here wondering why the hell things fell apart.”

Violet stumbles toward me, and when she falls into my chest, it’s not me catching her, it’s her holding me up. I fold her into me and hang on.

She comforts me. Her hands in my hair, fingertips up and down my back, kisses along my shoulder, along my neck, and whispers of love, as if she comprehends the only thing keeping me sane is her touch.

“I’ve refused choosing because I don’t want to lose anyone I love,” I whisper into her hair. “I don’t want to lose them, I don’t want to lose Mom and I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t.” Violet squeezes me tight. “You have me. We’ll figure it out. I promise you we’ll figure it out.”

Violet in my arms is right. Violet holding me is peace. I love her, she loves me, and for the first time, she’s fighting for me...for us. The urge is to keep her close, ignore the rest of the world and stay here forever.

But we can’t. We have to move forward. We have to face the Riot, the Terror and our unsteady future. Violet’s always found a way to plow forward and it’s time for me to learn, like her, how to forge my own path.

“I don’t want you to do the wire,” I whisper into her hair.

“I know,” she says. “But this is how it has to be.”

I’m learning from her and I pray she’s also learned from me. “But not alone. Promise me you’ll keep me in this. Promise me you won’t face any of this alone.”

Violet pulls back and I take her face in my hand, brushing my thumb against her rose-petal skin. The sad softness in her blue eyes almost undoes me completely. “Promise me.”

“I promise I won’t do this alone.”

The pulse thrumming through my veins is full of fear. I lost her once to her grief, came close to losing her again due to the Riot, lost her again last night because of my issues and now I feel like my chances are up. She’s about to walk into the flames of hell. I’ve never felt so helpless.

Either we’ll both walk out of hell still alive or we’re both going down in flames. Either way, we’re doing it together.

“What can I do to help you?” she asks.

There’s nothing she can do. “I want the truth about James and Cyrus and there’s no way to get it.”

Her throat moves as she glances up at me. “Maybe there is a way. You said the Riot mentioned there was a woman...”

I pull Violet back into me, shaken that I had forgotten about the name the detective gave me. There might be a way and I’ll need Violet’s help to see it through. With the gentle way she leans into me, I know when I ask, she’ll say yes.





Violet

THE WAITRESSING STAFF at the only diner in Snowflake doesn’t bother giving Eli a menu or asking for his order. It’s the same, day in and day out: scrambled eggs and bacon. They only ask if he wants coffee or orange juice because they know him so well. Today he wants coffee. I order the blueberry pancakes with two side orders of bacon because odds are I’m going to die when I meet up with the Riot, so I might as well revel in the goodness of bacon and clog up some arteries.

I tap my fingers against the sticky table and stare out the window with my head propped in my hand. Last night, I promised Chevy I wouldn’t handle the Riot on my own and I have every intention of keeping that promise. Detective Barlow is on my side and I’ll let Chevy in on every meeting I have with him, but when push comes to shove, I’m the only one who can meet with the Riot, the only one who can wear a wire.

The only one...

Nausea swirls around in my stomach. Maybe I should have ordered oatmeal again. No, I’m having pancakes because my days may be numbered. I agree with Chevy: if the Riot discover the wire, they will kill me, but at least then the police will have a legit murder charge they can convict them on. I’m bringing down the Riot even if it means doing so with my life.

What no man in the Reign of Terror has had the balls to do, I will. Sometimes it takes a woman to do a job men can’t accomplish.

“Razor gets to see Breanna today. We worked it out with her family.”

I draw my head in Eli’s direction in such a slow way that the world tunnels out before focusing again. “What?”

“Razor gets to see Breanna today. He doesn’t know, so I’d appreciate it if you kept this a secret.” Eli sits across from me in the booth and like always he wears his black leather Reign of Terror vest over a black T-shirt. His jacket hangs on the edge of the booth.

Both of us fit in this ragtag town and diner. Orange plastic seating with tears in the cushions and a menu on the wall that still requires little black magnetic letters to complete. Half the prices are missing numbers. I understand not being complete and so does Eli.