AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Then she heard her mother’s voice, even and toneless, saying over and over again, “Don’t think about it. It never happened. Don’t think about it, it never . . .”
Remmi’s heart turned to stone.
What had her mother done?
Tears blurred her vision, and she bit back sobs as she thought of her baby sister. Ariel. Sweet, tiny girl. For the first time in years, Remmi began to pray.
Please be with innocent Ariel. Please, God, please . . . Keep her safe.
* * *
Blam! Blam!
What the hell?
Gunshots?
No way!
Braking, Noah spun his bike around. Dust kicked up in a cloud that obscured the stars and moon for a second as he got his bearings. Had he really heard shots, or was it a firecracker or a car backfiring?
Heart hammering, he waited. He’d seen the two cars, nose to nose in the desert, and a couple of people getting out to meet in the space between them, a man and a woman. Some kind of drug deal, he figured, as a lot of shit went down at night in the desert, yet there was something surreal about the rendezvous, something a little out of whack. When he’d kicked the bike into gear, roaring closer, the bigger vehicle swung around, turning back toward the lights of Vegas. That’s when he’d recognized the boxy car’s silhouette as a vintage Caddy, about the same make and model as Remmi’s mom’s big boat of a car. Was it Didi’s ride? Was the woman actually Didi herself?
What the hell was she doing out here?
And the gunshots?
No! Not gunshots.
But . . . Oh, Jesus . . . then what?
Over the pounding of his heart, his bike idling, he squinted through the night as the big car sped away.
What the hell was Didi Storm doing out here, and did it have anything to do with the reason Remmi hadn’t shown? He revved the bike just as he saw movement from the corner of his eye. A shadow stealing down the mountainside.
He froze. Focused on the shifting umbra . . . too big for a coyote, too tall for a mountain lion. Had to be a person.
Oh, hell.
Another quick movement and a flash of light.
What the hell?
The guy was definitely shooting. At the damned car. He swallowed hard. Noah revved his engine. Couldn’t let the assailant just fire away. Popped a wheelie and caught the would-be assassin’s attention. He leaned forward, and the front wheel hit the hardpan hard, then he punched it. Hitting the gas and zigzagging across the desert, sure to rattle the guy.
What to do?
Draw fire?
That was crazy.
But the thought that Remmi, or at least her nutcase of a mother, was somehow involved spurred him on. He hit the gas and the bike tore forward. Closer to the Mustang. Knowing he was playing with fire and not giving a damn. He figured he could outrun the bastard. “Hey, dick-wad!” he yelled over the roar of his engine. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” And why the hell wasn’t the driver of the sports car speeding away? Was he already hit?
Another round of reports from the rifle, aimed at the car, the sitting duck of a Mustang as the killer approached, walking steadily across the desert floor.
“Drive, you idiot!” Noah yelled.
Flashes from the rifle’s muzzle. Another burst of gunfire.
