Naomi placed the cart to the side of the car. As she looked into her purse for the car keys, the cart rolled back and she reached out to catch it.
“I got it.”
Naomi turned to see Lash smiling at her. “Lash.”
“Miss me?” His cocky attitude was back. It was as if what happened between them a few nights ago hadn’t happened. Maybe it was better that way. She didn't want to fall for him, and she knew it would be so easy to do. She'd already lost too many people, and somewhere deep inside she feared she’d lose him too. He would more than likely leave her life as quickly as he came into it.
“It's only been a few days.” She threw the trunk open and turned to look at him. Her eyes took in the dark circles under his eyes. It was obvious he wasn't getting enough sleep. “You look tired. Don't you sleep?”
“Don't you?”
“As you can see here”—she made a sweeping gesture across the bags filled with food—“I'm grocery shopping for Welita. What's your excuse?” She picked up a bag from the cart.
“With all the action the last few days, I forgot there was nothing left to eat in my sorry excuse for a kitchen.” Lash picked up a couple of bags and placed them in the trunk. “Contrary to popular belief, Pop Tarts does not a breakfast make.”
Against her better judgment, Naomi considered inviting him over for breakfast, when she heard a familiar roaring sound. Her face paled.
“Naomi, what is it?” Lash diverted his attention to sounds in the vicinity, and he heard the familiar sound too.
A screech of tires ran through the parking lot. Gunfire popped several times and, before Naomi could register what was happening, Lash snatched the car keys from her hand and pushed her into the trunk. From the corner of her eye, she saw him slump back and groan before he slammed it shut.
“Lash!”
The car engine sprang to life, and she rolled around the tiny compartment, banging her knees and elbows as the car swerved. She prayed it was Lash driving and not the shooter. If it wasn't Lash, then that meant he was dead, and the thought was unbearable.
She banged on the hood. “Lash. Lash! Is that you?”
She heard more gunshots and, as their speed suddenly increased, she was tossed against the back of the trunk. He’s alive.
Frantically, she pulled a cell phone from her jean pocket. The car jolted and she dropped it as she banged her head against the closed hood. Then there was silence and the car drove smoothly. A few minutes later the car finally rolled to a stop, and the trunk lid flew open.
“Are you alright?” Lash peered into the car.
Naomi rubbed her head. It felt tender. “Yeah, I think so.” She took Lash's hand and climbed out of the trunk. “Thank God, Chuy fixed up the car last week.”
They were in the outskirts of the city at an empty rest stop. Insects swarmed around the only light source in the parking area. The grounds were littered with empty beer bottles and soda cans. “Where are we?”
“I'm not sure. I wasn't exactly paying attention.”
“Well, don't get snippy with me. I was—”
She paled as she watched Lash clutch his side and drop slowly to the ground—a red stain blossomed on his shirt.
14
With a cup of espresso in hand, Jane looked out the bay window as rays of orange peeked out of the horizon, meeting the dark sky of the early dawn. It was much too early to be up, but the nightmares kept her tossing. It was the same nightmare she’d had since the plane crash: the trembling of the plane, the screams, the heat, the smoke, the feeling of suffocation. As time passed, she had the dreams less often. Strange that, over the last few weeks, the dreams had increased in frequency.
“What are you doing up this early? Our flight to Washington doesn’t leave for another few hours.”
Jane turned in her chair. “Since I couldn’t sleep, I thought I might as well get up and start my day early.” She eyed Luke as he placed a couple of files on the desk and crossed the room to the kitchenette. “In all the years I’ve known you, you hardly sleep either.”
“It’s the secret to my success,” he said as he lifted the silver carafe and poured coffee. “While most people are still sleeping, I’m busy with business.”
“Tell me your secret. How do you keep yourself looking so young?” Jane noted his twinkling eyes and unlined face. “If man can go to the moon, why can’t they invent something for the bags I get under my eyes after a sleepless night?”
Luke laughed. “Perhaps I should invest in cosmetics.”
Jane took a sip of her coffee. “In addition to the fracking your company is doing in the state? Sounds like a lot to manage.” Prescott Oil was the leader in hydraulic fracturing. The process of extracting petroleum by widening rock fractures using chemicals and liquids at a high pressure was a controversial method. Despite that, Luke was able to expand his business across the state—with the help of her senate connections, of course.
“It’s all too easy when you have an army of workers at your disposal.”
“Mr. Prescott?” Sal stood at the entrance to the room, his face stern.
“Speaking of which, come in, Sal.”
Jane watched as Sal headed straight to Luke and whispered something to him that made his smile fade. She was used to Sal and Luke discussing business in her presence, and Luke often asked her opinion on a number of things—especially on his latest venture in taking Prescott Oil’s hydrofracturing business to an international level. Lately, however, their conversations were conducted in hushed whispers or held in private.
“Get IT on it, and trace their movements. He can’t get far fl—” Luke glanced at Jane and cleared his throat. “Their travel methods are limited. Call our contacts at the Houston airport and keep me posted.”
She hoped nothing was wrong at the airport. It was bad enough that she had to fly out of the same place where her nightmares originated.
Sal nodded and left the room.
“Problems?” She placed her cup on the coffee table.
“Nothing I can’t handle.” Luke put down his cup. “Well, my dear, it’s fortunate that you are up early after all. There’s been a change of plans. We’ll need to cancel the flight out of the Houston airport and drive to Dallas.”
“We’re flying out of the Dallas?” Jane felt a surge of panic as the memory of a fireball sweeping down the plane aisle crossed her mind. Did Luke find out about someone trying to tamper with the plane they were planning to take? She’d been told to expect this now that she was an official candidate for the next presidential race. She took a deep breath, dabbed the sides of her lips, and placed the napkin next to the cup. “Is there something I should know?”
Luke held out his hands, and she placed her hands into his. “Everything is taken care of. You have nothing to worry about. I’ll never let anything happen to you.” He kissed her hands and smiled. “You are much too precious to me.”
Jane exhaled a long breath. She knew she could count on Luke. In all the years she’d known him, he had never let her down. Although she wanted to know more, she trusted him. “That’s all I need to know. I’ll go pack.”
***
“Lash,” Naomi knelt to his side. She should’ve been freaking out. It was the second time she’d been shot at this week. He needed her help, but she couldn’t give it to him if she gave in to the panic that was just beneath the thin layer of calm. She placed her hands over his, trying to pry his fingers off abdomen. “Let me see.” His hands wouldn’t budge.
“It’s nothing.”
“It’s not ‘nothing’. I see the blood seeping in between your fingers.”
He turned to his side in attempts to keep her hands away from him. “It’s just a scratch.”
“You’re as pale as a ghost, and there’s blood everywhere.” Naomi searched the back of the trunk and found her cell phone.
“Put that away.”
“Are you crazy? You’re hurt and need help. And what if the shooter comes back? We need to call the cops
,” she said as she placed the phone to her ear.
Lash grimaced as he stood up. “I don’t need it. Don’t you listen?” He swatted the phone out of her hand, and it hit the cement.
“What is wrong with you?” She picked it up and tapped on the screen. “You broke my phone.”
“I told you. I’m fine.”
“No you’re not. Get in the car, and stop being so stubborn. I’m driving you to the hospital.”
“I’m stubborn? I’m stubborn?” He laughed and then moaned as he clutched his stomach tighter.
She almost lost it watching him suffer. What if he lost too much blood? He could be dying right in front of her. She took a deep breath. “Lash, I need you to get in the car.”
“The pain will go away soon.”
She marched to the passenger side of the car and opened the door. “Get in.”
Lash scowled. “I’ll prove to you that I’m fine. Do you have something that I could use to wipe off this blood?”
She raised an eyebrow.
“Please.” His eyes widened.
Maybe if she played along with him, he’d give in. She went back to the trunk, pulled out a roll of paper towels, and tossed it to him. “I’d feel a lot better if we went to the hospital,” she said as she brushed off dirt from the phone. “It still works, only the screen is broke. You can pay me back to replace the screen you broke, and…”
She lost her train of thought as Lash lifted his shirt, exposing streaks of blood lining his chiseled stomach. She couldn’t take her eyes off him as long fingers glided over the muscles lining his abdomen, the movement stirred something inside of her.
“Are you okay? You’re awfully quiet.” Lash gave her a lopsided grin.
“Uh, phone screen…broken…hospital.” Her cheeks grew a bright pink and she ducked her head.
“Look at me.” His fingers lifted her chin. “I’ll show you why I don’t need a hospital.”
Naomi willed herself to come to her senses and to focus on the seriousness of the situation. She should be figuring out a way to stop the bleeding rather than gawking at him.
Her eyes locked with his and his cocky expression disappeared. “Don’t freak out.”
He lifted the paper towel and showed her what should have been a bullet hole.
But it wasn’t.
This can’t be real. She blinked trying to adjust her eyes. Something was wrong with her eyesight. She leaned in closer, astonished as the mutilated skin smoothed over as she watched. She rubbed her eyes again and blinked when all she saw was flawless skin. Without thinking, she reached over, her fingers tracing over the spot.
Lash moaned at her touch.
She pulled her hand away. “I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”
“No,” he let out a rush of air.
“There’s nothing there. Not even a scratch. That’s impossible.” She took a step back, her eyes wide.
“I want you to listen carefully,” Lash said, pulling down his shirt. “I know you might find it hard to believe, but hear me out. I’m an angel. I was sent to you for a reason. My mission is to get you to New Mexico.”
Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. There was no way this was real. Maybe she inhaled too many fumes from the car exhaust. Maybe this was his way of getting her alone. Ever since she met him, he was always in the same vicinity. What are the chances they were at the same grocery store at the same time? Who goes grocery shopping that early in the morning? What if he was in with the shooter? She bit down on her lip confused. If he wanted to hurt her, then why bother protecting her and getting shot in the process. Naomi’s survival instincts warred with her attraction to him. She needed to leave, get some distance from him.
There was a brief pause as Naomi’s eyes locked with his.
“Look, I don’t know what’s going on here with this pseudo Criss Angel thing you’re doing, but something is not right.” Naomi slammed the trunk shut and headed toward the driver’s side walking backwards as she kept an eye on him. “I’ll send you some help.”
“I’m not trying to trick you into anything.” He took a step forward.
“Stay back.”
His face fell. “Don’t you trust me? I’m telling you the truth.”
Naomi felt a stab of pain. Her heart was telling her he was being honest with her. The hurt in his face was obvious. But her head was saying there was something totally wrong with this picture. Maybe he was delusional. She heard trauma did that to people sometimes.
“I want to believe you.”
“Then do.”
“It’s not possible.” She continued to walk backwards and tripped over a bottle.
Lash quickly grabbed her. “Listen to me. You’re in danger. Last week was not a random drive-by shooting. The person who shot the Taylors was aiming at you, they just got caught in the crossfire.”
Naomi looked into his frantic eyes. “I know you really want to believe that you’re an angel, but you’re not. It’s not possible. Let go of me, and I’ll get us some help.”
“Have faith, Naomi.” Lash’s fingers traced her neck and the crucifix.”You trust in God.”
Her breath hitched as his fingers glided along the necklace. She closed her eyes and willed herself to not think how her body was responding to his touch. “The necklace was my mother’s. She was the one with faith.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know that.” Lash loosened his hold on her, and stepped back.
An awkward silence passed between them. Then she looked at him sadly and said, “I don’t know what happened during the shooting. Maybe you banged your head. Maybe I banged mine. Either way, whatever is happening right now can’t be real.”
“Damn it! I’m not crazy. You’re not crazy.” Lash kicked a soda can, sending it soaring into the darkness. Running his hands through his hair, he paced the lot, deep in thought. After a moment, he turned to her, his face determined. “I am an angel, and I’ll prove it.” He tore off his t-shirt and threw it to the ground.
Naomi balked. “You don’t have to prove anything to me. Keep your clothes on.”
He charged at her and she screamed as he lifted her off the ground. This was it. He went off the deep end. Then she noticed something odd. The ground was getting further away.
A rush of wind blew her hair into her mouth, and she gagged. She brushed the hair out of her face and noticed that she could see the top of the surrounding trees. “Oh my God! What’s happening?”
He chuckled as she clawed his back trying to get a better grip. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you.”
“You’ve got me? How?”
Lash smiled and gestured behind him. Her mouth dropped at the pair of wings lined with downy white feathers.
“Holy shit—uh, I mean, you’re an angel.”
He grinned. “I told you.”
His grin was contagious and she laughed. He chuckled and looked at her and then his smile faded. He was so close she could feel his warm breath on her lips. She found her hand reaching out to stroke the dark stubble that lined his chiseled jaw. It was surprisingly soft.
“Naomi,” his voice was deep and his eyes gazed intently into hers. “I’m an angel.”
“I know.” Her fingers brushed his lips.
He quivered and closed his eyes. When he opened them, they were alight with pain. “I’m an angel,” he said again.
Her face crumpled as the words sank in. He was an angel. He was only there to watch over her and keep her safe, like Rebecca was Welita’s guardian angel. He couldn’t be anything more than that to her.
“Hey,” he gave her a nudge and a forced smile. “Want to see how many birds we can freak out?”
Before she could answer, he climbed higher into the sky. She tensed as the city lights grew smaller and everything began to spin.
“You’re not going to fall.” He tightened his hold, and his eyes darkened as her face neared his. “I won’t let go. I promise.”
15
Daylight found Lash and Naomi sitting in
the car in front of Welita’s house. Lash replayed the experience of having Naomi’s body pressed against his bare chest over and over again—how her body fit into his, the feel of her heart beat, her soft hair as it brushed against him. He closed his eyes and cherished the last few minutes they had with each other before they had to face reality. One, Sal, the shooter, wanted her dead. Two, their time together was almost over. He pushed the thought aside needing to focus on her safety first. He had to get her to New Mexico and the fastest way to do it was to catch the next flight out. “We need to get your things packed. There’s a safe house in New Mexico. You’ll be safe there.”
Her eyes were raw with an emotion that made him want to forget his assignment, forget about going back home, and stay with her, whether or not it was forbidden. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”
“You probably would’ve reacted the same way you did just now, and you definitely wouldn’t have given me a chance to explain.”
“So, you’re here to watch over me? Like a guardian angel?”
“You could say that.”
Naomi groaned. “Welita was right. I’ll never hear the end of it.”
Lash chuckled. He stepped out of the car, went to her side and opened the door. “Come on. We need to get moving. The sooner we leave, the sooner we can get you to safety.”
“What happens after that?”
“I’m not sure.” It wasn’t a lie. He didn’t know what would happen to her. He hated that he was given such limited information. What he did know was that once he was done with his assignment, he would have fulfilled his obligation. That would mean he was free to go back home. Going home should have made him feel excited, but instead he felt empty—worse than he had during the last thirty-five years.
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