Page 38 of Blade

“Thanks for the coffee,” she murmurs and makes herself comfortable on the couch, making sure I’m sitting next to her. She sets her coffee mug on the table and reaches into her purse to take out a large brown envelope. “I’m not sure how much you know about Roscoe’s family.”

I shake my head. “Not much. Well, nothing really. I didn’t even know he had a sister.”

“Roscoe practically raised his sister after their parents died. They’re super close, and she’s wonderful. There’s nothing Roscoe wouldn’t do for his sister or for me. Anyway, Roscoe paid for Carey-Ann’s education. He was looking after her since he was eighteen years old. He found a job in a mechanic shop and made sure she had what any little girl should have. He wanted to make sure she had a good start on whatever career she wanted.” Willow opens the envelope and takes out a handful of pictures. “There aren’t many photos of Carey-Ann in their early years. Roscoe’s parents were dirt poor, but they loved their kids. I was hoping you could help us with a special gift. Roscoe wants Carey-Ann to have a photo collage of old and new photos made into a book. I think it’s a fabulous idea, but I want another one made for Roscoe. I want it to be a surprise.”

Willow hands me her pictures. One by one, I look through them. Genuine smiles, arms around one another, real love on display. There are pictures of a very young Roscoe with Carey-Ann, some with him pushing his sister on the swing, others of them walking hand in hand, but in all of them, brother and sister look happy and vibrant. The photos of the whole family are dated and faded, but there is no mistaking how close this family unit was. A fabulous idea springs to mind.

“I’ve got a thought. I’d like to superimpose one photo onto another.” I try to explain, but clearly, Willow isn’t getting it, as she looks at me with confusion.

“Huh?”

“Okay.” I pull out two pictures. One is of just Roscoe’s parents, and another is of Roscoe and his sister. “If we take a recent photo of the siblings together, then I place a faded silhouette behind of their parents looking down from above…” I move the photos to make a visual of what I intend to do. “Then it’s like their parents are always with them looking over them from heaven. I’d have to play with the photo to blend it in, but I think it will be beautiful.” I glance over at Willow, who is beaming happily.

“Oh! He would love that!” she exclaims. “He always says his parents are watching out for him from above.”

I light up. This is something new for me, but I’m sure I can do it. “I’ll still do the albums, but this will be a little something extra. And I’d like it to be my gift.”

“No way. You’re doing the work, you need to be paid,” Willow insists.

“You and Roscoe are like family to Blade, and I’d like to think of myself as part of the family. It would make me very happy to do this for you.” I take her hand. “Please let me do this.”

“I refuse to say yes, but ‘we’ll see’ is the best I can do,” she says, but I can see that she’s close to caving. I’ll let it be for now because I’m so excited for this project.

“Well, now that business is out of the way,” my brother interjects, “you can tell me all about yourself, Willow.” I recognize that tone. Ryan is a smooth talker and is pouring on the charm. My first instinct is to get Willow alone and warn her about my brother.

Willow throws the question back at him. “Not much to tell, Ryan. I have a great job, love my man, have wonderful friends, and lead an amazing life. What about you?”

“I work in fashion as a model. I also have an entrepreneurial side where I like to dabble in new businesses and investments,” he replies. “You can’t model forever, you know. I have to secure a future, and investments are the way to go.”

“That’s very smart of you,” Willow replies, meeting his gaze.

“I think so. For instance, right now, I have a lead on a company that’s going public. It’s a sound opportunity. I know the family personally,” Ryan says. This is how it begins.

I look desperately at Willow, trying to get her attention, but her focus is on Ryan. “Are you buying shares?”

“My money is tied up in other things at the moment, but my buddy is going to see what he can do,” he responds.

“I hope it works out for you.” She turns back to me. “Have you heard from Blade?”

“Not yet. I hope he’s okay, and War and Demon too.” I look at my watch and add, “It’s been hours.”

“The guys know how to handle themselves,” Willow says with conviction. “After what happened to Roscoe, none of the guys do long trips alone.”

“What happened to Roscoe?” I ask.

“It was one of the worst days, and one of the best days, of his life, or so he says. I found it horrifying. There I was, driving down the road, minding my own business, when this truck forced a biker off the road. Then I saw them grab a chain and lead pipe, and I knew the guy on the bike was in trouble. So, I pulled up as close as I could and put Roscoe in my car and drove like a bat out of hell to get us to safety.” She does a little shudder. “I wasn’t sure we would make it, and I thank my lucky stars that the Pride came for us. We made it through okay.”

At the mention of the Pride, my brother completely loses interest in Willow and the conversation. He politely excuses himself and leaves. My moment of relief is short-lived when I think of how many people in town he’ll meet and if some poor soul buys whatever crap he’s selling. The panic-stricken expression on my face must be pretty clear because Willow takes my hand.

“Relax, Emmy. Roscoe’s on watch,” she says.

I’m confused. “What does that mean?”

“Blade has your back, and suffice it to say that if you belong to Blade, you belong to all of us. This time, you’re not leaving town because your brother has made a mess of things,” Willow answers. She softens her tone. “I hope you’re not angry that Blade told us about Ryan, but he was very worried for you.”

“No, I’m not angry. I just don’t want anyone to hate Ryan. He wasn’t always like this. He used to be my cool older brother who would let me sleep with him whenever there was a thunderstorm or would sneak candy into my room when my mother would put me on a restrictive diet.” I can’t help the bite in my tone when I recall all the mean things my mom would say about my weight. Although it wasn’t just my weight; she’d comment on my height, the way I walked and talked, and, well, just about everything I did seemed to irritate my mother.

“Ouch! That must have cut to the quick.” Willow’s eyes open wide, and she grips my hand tighter.

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