by Sue Wilder
I found my purse and phone and left without locking the door. Slid into the rental and backed crookedly down the drive. I hit the curb as I turned, then drove with no destination in mind.
My thoughts spun with a familiar mantra.
Drive. Just drive, Soleil. Get away.
Traffic was heavy through Newport. I focused on driving while I worked at being rational. I didn’t think Shirl realized what was in that script—how could she? She knew nothing about what really happened six years ago. Only that I had an affair with an actor named Michael Blake that ended badly.
The script was an awful coincidence. A film noir with a standard plot, and I was reading old guilt into the storyline when it wasn’t there.
But it was there. Recognition came instinctively, and the fear driving me now was the same fear I’d felt in a restaurant parking lot.
I’d known then the man surging out of the dark was a threat.
The script was another threat, and there wasn’t a surveillance system or a team that could provide enough protection, not when people I loved were used to hurt me.
Rain splattered on the windshield, blurring landmarks, but I continued to drive toward a favorite beach, a crescent of white sand, miles long. Trees and coastal shrubs offered shelter between the parking lot and the ocean. I remembered picnic tables, blackened fire pits. Sand dollars cracked open by the gulls and scattered with the tide.
The drive would take an hour, longer if it rained, but I turned toward that beach automatically. I craved solitude, a place where I could think and work through my reaction to the script. Diffuse the fear. Stop the panic before it took hold.
Rigidly, I stared at the road ahead. Listened to the whooshing of the tires against the pavement. When my cell rang, I answered automatically through the Bluetooth function in the car.
“Sunny.” Luna’s voice. “We’re here at the San Juan house and the weather’s turning bad, but I hear background noise. Are you driving?”
“Yes.” My fingers twisted around the steering wheel; from the ache in my joints, I wasn’t sure I could let go. “I forgot to lock the door.”
“What door?”
“On the house. When I left.” I moistened my lips. “I forgot about the door and I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry about the door.” Luna’s tone tilted toward concern. “Are you okay?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on.”
“Shirl sent a script. It reminded me of something, so I left the house.”
“Where are you now?”
“Driving south. Toward the beach we liked with the shrubs, but I might not stop there. I might just keep going until I get home.”
“Have you driven over the bridge yet?” she demanded.
“Yes, the one in Newport.”
“When?”
“Before you called,” I managed stiffly, realizing how hunched over I was, driving like I wasn’t sure what I was doing. Fear held my arms rigid. My fingers cramped.
“Have you crossed the bridge at Yachats?” Luna asked, and I thought she was tracking my progress. “The road dips through town.”
I focused on the white line that marked the center of the road. On remaining in my lane. “I’m south, farther south. I can’t keep track with the rain. It’s sheeting, now.”
“Sunny,” my twin asked steadily, “can you pull over for a moment?”
“No. Cars are lined up behind me, and there’s only this road. My hands are shaking, Loony. I feel the panic coming on and I’m fighting it.”
“Listen to me, sweetheart. The danger isn’t real, it’s just your body reacting to chemicals flooding through your system. Like adrenaline, or when you’re on the set doing a stunt. Take a deep breath and describe what you see.”
I looked around. “Trees. Thousands of trees.”
“Trees can’t hurt you, but driving in a storm isn’t safe. Look for a turnout and pull over. Turn off the engine and wait. Someone will come for you.”
“There’s no turnout. You remember this road. And no one can help me. I have to help myself.”
“It’s okay.” Her voice faded in and out. Poor reception with all the hills and the weather. “Keep talking while we work through this. The viewpoint, where we used to go for whale watching. Have you passed it?”
“Yes. And I know what you’re trying to do. You want me to stop, Loony, but I can’t. This isn’t like the sleepwalking. I haven’t done that since I left Brand. It was the script. Shirl sent me a script and I was reading and it was… all wrong.” My eyes burned. “It was Elle’s story. Disguised, but I recognized it and everything—it was vile, Loony. Twisted up, and I dropped it and just left.” The muscles in my throat ached into my jaw. I forced my arms to move, my hands to turn the wheel with each successive curve in the road that dipped in and out of darkening shadows. “I don’t understand why Shirl sent it.”
“Connor’s calling her now.” New urgency entered Luna’s voice. “How did you get the script?”
“It was a Fed-ex delivery waiting on the porch.”
“What do you remember about it?”
“Nothing. Ordinary.” I sucked in a breath, turned on the windshield wipers as a gust of wind splattered rain against the glass. “The script was ordinary. But the story—I’m not that person, Loony. But maybe I am and the script just made me see myself—”
“Sunny.” The tears that thickened Luna’s voice tore at my throat. “You are not that person. I’m so sorry I told you about Elle the way I did. I was angry and hurt and I’m sorry. I believe you about not knowing Michael was married. Please, just find a place and stop.”
“I need to keep going. Someone wrote bitch on my car and then these two detectives came up yesterday. They’d tracked me through the rental’s GPS. They asked about the fire, if I knew who started it, and now this script—”
“Shirl said she hasn’t sent you anything.”
“Well, someone did.” My teeth were chattering. “Garrett thinks it’s Brand, doing this.”
“Did Brand ever learn about Elle and Michael?”
“No,” I hissed, “not from me, but who knows what he dug up. He has contacts, friends who write scripts, and Shirl’s receptionist has a crush on him. He could have bribed her to send it to me. To get even for that book.”
I glanced at the speedometer. My speed inched toward seventy, while the rain made the road ahead expand into mist, distorting any sense of distance I might have had. Cars behind me kept pace. “I can’t do this.”
“Yes, you can, Sunny. Breathe in slowly while I count.”
“You can’t fucking talk me through this, Loony—shit! I’m sorry.” The road curved, and the tires spun in the puddles of water before regaining traction.
“Breathe in, then blow the air out.” Luna never wavered, and I felt like a bitch, scared out of my freaking mind, driving like a madwoman through the rain because if I stopped, the panic would leave me immobilized.
“Can you relax your fingers?” Luna asked.
I laughed, and it wasn’t a pleasant sound. “I’m afraid to let go.”
“Garrett’s coming. He’s leaving Newport right now.”
“This can’t be his problem anymore. You never should have sent me to him. I have to fix this on my own. Confront Brand. Get him to stop.”
“You can’t make Brand stop on your own, and I’m looking at Google maps right now. You should see a turnout soon. Pull off the road and wait until Garrett gets there.”
“I can’t.” I glanced at the rearview mirror. “There’s a car behind me. When I speed up, he speeds up. When I slow down, he gets right on my bumper, but he won’t pass.”
“Tap the brakes and warn him,” Luna ordered. In the background, Connor’s voice carried, and I wondered if he was relaying the information to Garrett like I was a getaway driver fleeing the scene. Tears blurred my vision and I couldn’t blink the sensation away.
“Sunny.” Luna’s tone turned s
harp, as if I’d drifted. “Slow down. Turn on your blinker so the car behind you knows you’re pulling off.”
“Okay.” My palms dampened, but I eased my grip enough to flick the turn signal. As the rhythmic clicking of the blinker matched the swishing of the wiper blades, a sense of normalcy returned. My breathing eased. Ahead, the road curved in a widening arc with reflective guide posts for the turnout.
“I see it,” I told Luna as bright headlights suddenly flashed in the mirror, blinding, while a jolt from behind threw me forward. “Shit—that car just hit me!”
“Soleil!” Connor’s voice echoed. “Accelerate now. Don’t pull into the turnout. If he hits you again—do not brake, do you hear me? Your car will spin toward the right. Steer to the left, but do not slow down. Focus on controlling the skid—”
The second jolt hit so hard the seatbelt cut into my shoulder, and I thought I heard Luna screaming. I tried to do what Connor asked.
And failed.
CHAPTER TWLEVE
“Ma’am?”
Rain in icy rivulets. I felt it streaming from my hair, getting into my eyes and running down my face. I blinked, staring into the dark. Below, waves crashed on the rocks, echoing like cannon shots. My shoes were wet, and I gripped my waist with numb hands.
“Soleil, you’re safe.”
A familiar voice. A man’s hand resting on my shoulder. I looked up at Tyson Lemay, dressed in a uniform. Water dripped from the brim of his ball cap. The bulk of his shoulders seemed massive beneath a heavy brown jacket, and I stared at the official insignia, remembering he was a sheriff’s deputy. He’d given me a card last night, at Garrett’s bar.
“Ty.” I licked beaded water from my lips and glanced away. “What are you doing here?”
“Helping you.” His voice gentled. “This is my patrol area, Soleil. Got the call. I wasn’t that far away.”
“My car.”
“Is fine where it is. Step back now. Let’s get you away from this edge.”
I swiped at the wet hair clinging to my cheek. Light from the car spilled across the ground. The turn signal still blinked, and a deflated airbag sagged like a ruined balloon.
Ty wrapped his arm around my shoulders, steady and protective when I stumbled. Ahead, red and blue lights flashed and sparkled in the rain. A military-style vehicle blocked the road, parked at an angle with the doors open. The word Sheriff glittered in the icy-white floodlights lighting up the road. Yards away, another deputy dropped glowing ruby flares onto the pavement.
“I should wait here,” I said, as Ty wrapped a blanket around my shoulders.
“It’s warmer inside my vehicle.” He led me toward the waiting open doors. “Your car high-centered on the rocks. Probably took out the undercarriage.”
“Good thing I bought the extra insurance.”
My joke fell flat, and Ty offered an apologetic smile.
“Don’t worry about insurance.” He settled me on the wide seat, then turned the controls until I felt a blast of heat. “That better?”
My shivering wouldn’t stop, and I gritted my teeth. “I’ll be fine in a minute.”
“We’ll let the paramedics decide since they’re on the way.” He tucked another blanket around my legs. “There’s blood on your forehead. I can take a look if you like.”
I felt bad for causing his concern, but knew it would be easier for him if I cooperated. I tipped my head, relaxing as Ty gently parted my hair.
“Do you remember anything?”
“Yes, but it’s hard to focus right now.”
“You’re soaking wet.”
“The rain.” Another shiver wracked me. “I couldn’t stay in the car, so I got out and just… stood there.”
“You did fine. Anything else hurt? Were you unconscious?”
“I don’t think so, but I’m embarrassed over running off the road.”
“You couldn’t stop, not in this rain. Hit from behind like that.” I wondered how he knew, but he’d probably looked at the car. The roar of distant vehicles drew Ty’s attention. “Looks like Garrett’s here. And the paramedics.”
I used one corner of the blanket to rub my nose and dry my face. Ty talked with Garrett while two paramedics ran through their routine. I appreciated the care, the reassuring way they checked blood pressure, flashed a light into my eyes. Taped up the cut on my forehead. But even with the heat blasting, I didn’t feel warm.
“Soleil.” Ty returned, and I glanced up. “Can you tell me what happened?”
I pulled the blanket tight and gripped the edges. “It was a mistake to drive.”
“Why was it a mistake?”
“I was upset, and then Luna called. Hands-free. We’re always careful. She told me to pull over, but there wasn’t a turnout and I was speeding. I should have slowed down.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“A car followed, close behind like I was going too slow, but he wouldn’t pass.”
“Did other cars pass you?”
“Yes. They’d pass both of us at the same time. He was that close, so it didn’t make sense unless it was road rage and I’d cut him off or something.” I suppressed another shiver. “I don’t think I did, though.”
As I spoke, Ty took notes, writing in a small notebook the way Wentz did, but without the condemnation. “When did you notice him behind you?”
“After the bridge at Yachats. The traffic lets up there, so I noticed.”
“Can you describe the vehicle?”
“Sedan, ordinary.” The details were vague. “The styles look alike now, but it was black or gray.”
“How close would he come to your bumper?”
“Close enough for me to see his face. He had both hands on the wheel, and I remember the way this tree-shaped air freshener kept swinging.”
“How many times did he hit you?”
“Two times. Connor told me what to do, but I still braked hard at the end.”
“Braking saved your life,” Garrett said, and I blinked, looking up. I hadn’t sensed his approach, but he stood facing Ty. “I looked at the damage and you were right.”
Ty’s mouth firmed before he looked at me. “Is there anything else you remember that stands out?”
I shook my head, twisting my fingers in the blanket.
“Paramedics said I could take her.” The command in Garrett’s voice allowed no argument. Carefully, Ty helped me from his vehicle and Garrett took over. Inside his BMW, the warmth held his scent, comforting, unique to him. I would always remember his scent, but I was uneasy about his mood. Exhaustion finally kicked in, and I closed my eyes.
“You’re calling me trouble in your head right now, aren’t you?”
“No, I’m calling you damn lucky. You scared the shit out of me.”
My heart hurt. “I’m sorry.”
He remained silent. I opened my eyes and watched the flex of his hands against the steering wheel, the slow rise of his chest as he inhaled.
Then he threw the BMW into gear, made an aggressive turn back onto the roadway and accelerated toward Newport.
◆◆◆
Our lack of conversation kept me edgy. I didn’t need to ask if Garrett was angry. Instead, I stared at the passing scenery, imagining what he’d say, and how I’d argue in defense. My muscles ached. The shivers were occasional, but I wasn’t relieved when the BMW pulled into my driveway.
“Stay,” he ordered.
“I’m not a damn dog.” I glared. “Get a puppy if you like giving orders so much.”
“I don’t want a puppy.”
Within seconds, he circled the car, yanking the door open and reaching for me while my fingers fumbled on the seatbelt. I was too stiff to move, and he scooped me up.
“I can walk.” Irritated, I pushed at his chest. “You’ll hurt your back.”
“Fuck my back.” He stalked into the house like a stubborn man, relenting long enough for me to climb the stairs. Then I was captured again. “Which bathroom has a tub?”
“The o
ne on the left. And don’t blame me if you hurt yourself.”
Resentment weighed in my voice, and he shouldered the door to Luna’s bedroom without answering, carrying me through to her bathroom where he set me on my feet. “Strip.”
“Not while you’re here.”
His gaze narrowed. “You saw me naked in the shower.”
“Because you flashed me, Garrett. I didn’t ask.”
“Don’t remember you looking away.”
He bent to turn on the taps while the truth burned. I hadn’t looked away, and I hated that he noticed. Emotional control was important to me. Even when I couldn’t handle my own highs and lows.
But I was Soleil St. Clair.
I knew how to sell a scene and be convincing.
“Look… I’m grateful you came. I’m guessing Connor called—”
“Why the hell didn’t you call?”
“Because I didn’t.”
He studied my defiance, then yanked the wet shirt over my head, catching strands of hair that slapped down against my nape. I plucked at the damp Demi bra. The nude material revealed everything, and somewhere in my chaotic thoughts, I remembered the promise I made, not to do reckless things—which meant not letting this man strip me naked.
When he reached for the zipper on my jeans, I gripped his wrists, hard.
“Garrett. I can’t call you every time I need help.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Because I can’t. I asked for help one time, but that doesn’t mean I’m helpless with everything.”
The muscle in his jaw hardened.
“I realize what happened today,” I pressed on. “I wasn’t processing and Luna was freaking out.”
“You were having a panic attack.”
“I was close. But I’ve handled them before, and I’m not brushing off how serious you think this is.”
“After everything I told you?”
I crossed my arms, the action doing little except plump my breasts. I expected Garrett to watch, but not with masculine attention, and I slid my arms lower, pretending he didn’t notice that movement, too.
