Page 89 of One Breath After Another

“Gone,” his friend deadpanned. “Yeah.”

Now, Luca was out of the bed and entirely awake. He wasn’t neat or kind about the way he tore into his closet looking for something suitable to throw on as fast as he could when he asked Naz, “You said she left a note?”

“Yeah, but it’s—”

“What did it say?”

“Nothing, really. A thank you. She apologized.”

Luca came to a stop in the doorway of the closet, swallowing the lump that lodged in his throat to ask, “Anything else?”

“And she loves us.” Naz let out a harsh sound. “How the hell did she even leave? She barely even leaves the house! She doesn’t have a car or ... where is she?”

“We’ll figure it out.”

Or he would.

Somehow.

“I’m on my way,” Luca told his friend.

He didn’t know it then, but what started as a frantic morning would be the beginning of a long, five-year search. He hadn’t been ready. In the end, he would sacrifice what had once been his life just to find her.

How could he be ready?

Penny didn’t give him a choice.

18.

Penny

DESOLATE land surrounded all four points of the vehicle. In the backseat, Penny stared out the window to her left and watched the miles of desert pass them by with every second. She didn’t know where they were other than somewhere in Nevada. She only knew that because the pilot on the private jet that delivered her to the state had announced their arrival.

Were they still in the state?

She didn’t have a clue.

They had certainly been driving long enough to feel like they crossed several states. Well, not really, but still ...

It was also hard to see anything outside the car, except for the shape of the land, because of the darkness. Not that she figured there would be very much to see even if it was daylight. Nothing was still nothing, even in the light of day.

Penny had never done well with long car trips. It was the only time she couldn’t seem to sit still and found herself more willing to talk. Maybe that was why she asked the driver, who hadn’t even offered to speak to her, “How much longer?”

She saw his gaze dart to the rearview mirror, but otherwise, he didn’t act like she said anything. Or rather, that he didn’t hear her.

Penny wasn’t done trying, though. “Where are we?”

A sigh echoed from the front of the car. Maybe that should have been a warning for her to drop it—a sign of the man’s irritation with her sudden questions. She just didn’t care.

“Are we almost there, or—”

“My job,” the man said dryly, even his tone speaking of how bored he was, “is to move you from New York to Nevada. Accompany you. Keep you in one piece while you travel. Make sure you don’t ... take off.”

Penny swallowed hard. “Yeah, so?”

“My job is not to talk to you, entertain you, or answer your questions. Remember?”

Right.