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p; “The Western Oasis,” she said, sinking back into the booth before disconnecting.
“We wait?” Noah asked.
“Yeah.” She felt deflated. “Story of my life.” Taking a sip from her water glass, she said, “Settler suggested we take in a show.” She let out a half laugh. “Do you know how many shows I watched from the wings while I was growing up? No thanks. I think I’ll pass.”
The waitress returned with huge platters of food. While Noah dug into a thick steak and French fries, washing it down with beer, Remmi picked at her pot pie and sipped her Chardonnay slowly, her appetite practically nonexistent.
She thought about her siblings. What if Adam and Ariel, now Kyle and Kayla, didn’t believe her? What if they didn’t want to know her? What if they thought she was a liar, someone trying to get close to them because of their rich family? What if the thought of Didi Storm being their mother was repulsive? She had no idea what they’d been told or how they would react.
She finished the wine and took another sip of water.
One step at a time.
First, you have to meet them.
If they choose not to be in your life, if they think you’re a liar or some kind of scam artist, you have to be patient.
She found herself dunking her straw in her water glass, up and down, the ice cubes dancing, the water swishing, her thoughts a million miles away.
Noah grabbed up the check. “Let’s go,” he said, and she saw that he’d nearly finished his entire meal. “You’re exhausted.”
“What about you?”
“Feel like a million bucks.” He slanted her a crooked smile that touched the corners of her heart. Careful, she told herself, you could fall in love with this guy all over again . . .
The thought surprised her, and she cleared her head. You are tired. You barely know him. But she let him pay the check and watched him as he talked to the waitress—how comfortable he seemed to be in his own skin, a boy who had grown up in a difficult, if not impossible, family, who had nearly been killed that night in the desert, and who had hitchhiked to safety before reinventing himself.
You could do worse, she told herself, and then, as Noah was distracted with his credit card, she felt it again, that eerie sensation of being watched. She glanced over her shoulder to the night beyond and saw only a few scattered cars in the parking lot, no one around, no one peering at her from the darkness.
Your nerves. Noah’s right. You’re overly tired. Still she searched the parking lot and saw only the pale image of her reflection staring into the night.
“Come on, let’s get you into bed,” Noah said, once he’d finished paying.
“I’m okay,” she said, wondering about the night ahead. There were two beds in the room, and they’d each placed a bag at the end of the one they had claimed. But . . .
She was distracted, considering the next few hours alone with Noah.
As they reached their door, Noah began to slide his key from his pocket, and Remmi felt a movement behind her, a disturbance in the night. The hairs on the back of her neck raised and she started to turn.
Too late!
Steely fingers surrounded the back of her arm as the cold barrel of a gun jammed against the base of her skull.
“What?” she cried.
Noah reacted, reaching for the gun in his pocket.
“Don’t,” a strong male voice whispered just over her ear. “Or I’ll blow her brains all over you . . . and you,” he added tightly, his fingers clamping harder, “shut up.” To Noah, he snarled, “Put your hands in the air or I’ll blow off her head. Don’t think I won’t.”
Remmi was frozen, her breath caught in her throat.
Noah’s hands rose slowly to the sides of his head. The gunman reached over and grabbed Noah’s pistol from his pocket, transferring it to his own. Then he retrieved Noah’s phone and did the same.
Terrified, not daring to move with the cold metal jammed against the back of her head, Remmi stared at Noah. She couldn’t see her attacker, but she felt him pressed hard against her, could smell some cologne. For a split second, she thought about trying to pull away, but she heard the click of the gun’s hammer and froze. Noah’s head gave the barest of shakes.
“Hedges,” Noah said, “what the hell are you doing?”
Hedges? Brett Hedges? Why would he be here? What would he want with them?
