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The next minutes are a blur. The ambulance arrives and Nicco insists on carrying me inside it himself. The paramedics don't object. Nicco's built like a WWF wrestler. Not many people question his actions. Or at least not more than once.
The ambulance takes off and in the distance I hear the stadium announcer. "Please remain calm. Xandra is getting the best care possible. Please leave the stadium in an orderly fashion. Xandra’s team will update her social media sites to give you up to the minute reports on her health."
Any other sound is drowned out by the ambulance's siren. I close my eyes and block it all from my consciousness.
The ambulance stops and I open my eyes. Nicco is leaning over me. "You sure this is what you want, Alex?" he asks, worry etched in his face.
"We both agreed this was the best thing, didn't we?" Why the hell is he wavering now?
"Yes, we did. And I still think it's the best thing to do. To keep you safe. And healthy. Underneath all the makeup, you look like shit."
"Thanks a lot," I say, sitting up.
"Well, you do. You've got dark circles under your eyes and your skin looks like you've been living inside a shopping mall. Get some sleep. Walk in the sunshine."
The doors to the ambulance open. Nicco smiles at me. "You ready?"
"Yes." I sit up. “Just give me a minute.”
I put my hand out and Nicco gives me my backpack. Nicco closes the door, then I change my clothes, strip off my giant eye lashes and jewelry and use a handful of cold cream to melt the stage makeup.
When I step out of the ambulance I feel twenty pounds lighter.
Nicco stands next to a non-descript car and opens the door for me. I see some supplies in the back seat. "I've programmed the address into the GPS," he says. "There's a new cell on the passenger seat." I glance that way and laugh.
"A flip phone?"
"Don't want you to have easy access to the internet. Too much temptation."
He's not wrong.
I look up into his soft brown eyes and I feel tears welling in mine. "Thank you," I say, giving him a hug. "I couldn't have done any of this without you." His beefy arms surround me and we stay that way for a moment.
"You stay safe, sweetheart. Don't know what I'll do if anything happens to you." Then he pulls away. For Nicco, that's like opening his soul for inspection.
He puts me into the car. "I've got my number programmed into your flip phone. Let me know when you get there. Shouldn't be more than a couple hour drive. Remember my buddy Caleb will be there to help you with anything you need. His number is in the phone too."
With that, I start up the car and take off.
Damn. How long has it been since I've driven?
CHAPTER1
CALEB
The sun is beating down particularly hard in Chickadee Ridge and the inside of the truck is steamy. I reach over to adjust the air conditioning but only warm air comes out so I quickly shut it off and roll down the window.
I've got a new Dodge Ram back at the ranch, but every now and then I like to take out this old truck.
It was my dad's. It’s at least thirty years old, and I’m only twenty-six.
For as long as I can remember, Dad always had a nice shiny truck with the North Starr Ranch logo on the door, but for some reason he never traded this one in.
Rumor has it, he proposed to my mom in this very truck. Probably other shenanigans happened in here too, but that’s kind of weird to think about.
On days when I need to get my head on straight, I take the cover off and pull it out of the garage and go for a long ride along the back roads. Not that there's a ton of traffic in Chickadee Ridge, but everyone there knows me so it's hard to have much privacy, even if you're just driving down Main Street.
This is the truck Dad used to teach all of us to drive and how to maintain a vehicle. My dad was a brilliant businessman and investor, but he never let that go to his head and he insisted that all of us know how to take care of our cars and trucks.
