Page 50 of Adam’s Rising (Midnight Sons #6)

NORA

“D o it,” Sergio ordered, his voice cold and empty of any inflection.

“Please, Sergio. I beg of you. I have a wife and children. Please. I’ll never —”

A hollow POP cut off the man’s beseeching.

Nora bolted upright. Feeling as if she were on fire, she yanked at the sheet and blanket twisted around her legs, trying to escape the heat — the past. Every night she relived the man’s pleading, and every morning she knew she would have ended up in some landfill if she had interfered.

Although she hadn’t turned on the heat in the hotel room, she was damp with sweat.

Because of the dream — nightmare. The nightmare that, sadly, her subconscious hadn’t made up.

It’d been real, and she’d had to pretend for the last six months that she hadn’t heard Sergio give an order to kill a man.

She had run to the stairwell and climbed the thirty floors back to their suite, too afraid to go into the lobby or back to the elevator.

Definitely too scared to go to the police.

After all, she didn’t have any real friends in the States.

Her friends were Sergio’s friends. But she’d known the real reason: control.

Sergio had controlled every part of her life.

Who she fought. How she dressed. Her money.

And he’d planned to keep that control over her forever.

So she had to play along, agree to marry him.

She’d only had one request. That she be allowed one final fling, a hiking trip before they settled down.

Surprisingly, he’d agreed. She didn’t even attempt to ask to hike in her home country.

She knew he would have been suspicious. But Alaska …

Where could she possibly go from Alaska?

Nowhere, in his opinion. His only concern had been whether his prizefighter would make it home safely so he could make more money.

Heart pounding, Nora ran to the second-floor window of the motor lodge and peered through the small gap she’d left at the edge of the window. It was already bright outside. The only vehicles in the parking lot were the same she’d seen for the last couple of nights. No new cars.

As tired as she was, today was the day. She had to get a head start. Get lost in the wilderness before Sergio even knew she was gone.

She stuffed everything she owned into the one suitcase that would stay in the rental car.

It would appear as if she’d only gone on a short hike.

Today she would pick up all the supplies she needed from different stores.

Protein bars, she’d decided, would be her staple.

But if she bought a month’s worth of protein bars at one place, someone might remember her, and she didn’t want there to be any evidence that she set out with the intention of disappearing.

After she took her last hot shower for what might be a month, she piled her long hair under a cap, dressed in the shabby sweatpants and sweatshirt she’d worked out in for years, and finished the outfit with her dark sunglasses.

All she could hope was that no one where she shopped would recognize or remember her.

She’d purchased her backpack and hiking gear in Anchorage, but she needed a few more items — items that Sam had insisted backpackers carry, especially the DEET. She hated mosquitos, with good reason.

* * *

The log-cabin-like store was small but well-stocked.

Nora inspected the protein bars, looking for the ones with the most calories, protein, and fat.

While she hoped she could catch her share of fish, she had to be prepared if she didn’t.

The bells over the door jingled, and she instinctively looked up.

With a sharp intake of breath, she cast her eyes back on the meal bars, hoping Sam wouldn’t recognize her.

She couldn’t help but remember him. He looked even better today than he had the previous day.

As if it were seventy-something instead of fifty-something, Sam had on a short-sleeve black T-shirt today, a shirt that showed off those muscular arms. Sam looked …

muy caliente . If she didn’t know he was an all-American male, she might easily mistake him for a man from Argentina with his dark hair and dark features — and the soulful way he’d moved her around the dance floor.

Recalling how they’d been inches from a kiss the previous evening, before he’d had to rejoin his family, her mouth actually watered up. She dropped her head and stared at the food again, ordering herself under her breath, “Stop it!”

A tap on her shoulder made her jump. Instinctively, she drew her arms close to her body, preparing for a fight.

“Whoa!” Sam lifted his palms. “Remember, I wouldn’t dare fight you. I just wanted to say hi. Nora, right?”

Nora removed her glasses. “Sorry.” His question irritated her, making her forget that she’d wanted to remain forgettable. “You were not sure of my name?”

Sam chuckled. “I didn’t forget your name, Nora. Not possible. It’s just something people say, I suppose.”

Tickled by his honest response, she felt her face warm. She flicked her gaze around the tiny store, making sure no one had followed him inside. “How did you recognize me?”

Sam dropped his gaze to the rough wooden floor. At least she assumed he was looking at the floor. His sun-bronzed face suddenly had a hint of pink slashing along his chiseled cheekbones. “I … um …”

Nora couldn’t stop her lips from turning up at his blush and stutter. “Why, Sam … What exactly did you notice about me?”

Sam smiled as his gaze freely moved from her hips to her bust. “Not much else to do when your opponent is shooting pool or boxing but notice their … um … form. You have great form, Nora.”

“ Form ? I have … great … form ?”

“Yep.”

She shoved his chest, but he was solid. Didn’t even totter. Maybe he’d been a scrapper back in the day, too. With the houseful of boys he said he’d grown up with, it was no wonder.

“You know,” he said, breaking her from her thoughts of a young curly-headed Sam playing outside with his friends. “I was hoping to run into you at the bar again tonight, but … breakfast works for me. Want to grab something to eat?”

As much as hanging out with Sam appealed to her, she couldn’t put him in danger. “Umm … I’m kind of in a hurry —”

“Breakfast is only one course,” he cut in. “Come on.” He took her by the hand, the way he’d done the previous evening.

“Hey!” She pulled free. “Can I at least pay for my supplies first?”

“Of course.” Sam walked in front of her, approaching the counter.

An elderly but trim Alaskan native greeted Sam with a wide smile, showing off layers of wrinkles. “Mornin’, Sam.”

“Mornin’, Silla!” Sam waved his thumb over his shoulder. “Nora’s one of our newest hikers. Would you please extend our discount to her?”

The man swiped his long salt-and-pepper hair over his shoulder. “Sure thing, Sam.”

Sam walked to the exit and leaned against the wall, arms crossed.

He looked as if he was scanning the outside, searching for a threat.

What could he possibly be concerned with?

He had family and friends in the same town.

People who probably had his back no matter what.

How she longed for that. She’d had friends like that in Buenos Aires, but not in the States.

She’d only really known one person in the last seven years, and he’d proven to be a horrible friend — and a worse person.

Nora handed the man her credit card. “Thank you, Silla.”

“Any friend of Sam’s is a friend of mine, young lady.”

She smiled and accepted her bag, then strolled up to Sam.

It didn’t appear he was going to take no for an answer.

And what was she worried about? If Sergio had sent someone to follow her, she would have seen him.

She hadn’t lied; she was in a hurry. But unlike California, there were twenty hours of daylight here; she could certainly take the time to eat breakfast. The more fat she could store, the better. “Where to?”

Sam took her by the hand again and led her outside to the parking lot. “We’ll walk. It’s only a couple of blocks.”

Nothing was far here. Only two roads intersected, and all the shops were huddled close to the four corners.

As the previous day, one lone mosquito buzzed near her head. To escape the flying killer, she lurched sideways, nearly knocking Sam off the sidewalk.

Sam steadied her. “You okay?”

A shiver swept through her as she batted the nasty creature away. “I hate those things.”

“What things?”

She flicked her hand again. “Mosquitos.”

Sam laughed, but then apparently seeing her scowl, he sealed his lips. “You do know the mosquito is called Alaska’s unofficial state bird, don’t you?”

Nora stared up at him, her skin prickling at the thought of one of those things feeding on her. “What do you mean?”

“It’s a joke obviously, but yeah … come June, mosquitos — and black flies — can be irritating. Nothing to fall in the street over, though.”

“Those things ,” she shrilled, “carry all sorts of deadly diseases. Malaria, West Nile … If you’d grown up in South America, you’d hate them too.”

“True, but so far, that isn’t the case here.

Chances of the virus taking hold in Alaska are slim.

Just make sure you pick up some DEET.” Sam stopped in front of a building that probably had been a house at one point — another log cabin.

Light beige log walls made up the exterior.

And the windows were trimmed with bright white paint.

The white picket fence surrounding a front porch with whitewashed rocking chairs begged passersby to stop in and have a seat.

Distracted by the quaint, small-town atmosphere, Nora hadn’t noticed that Sam had opened the gate.

“You’ll be safe inside from the scary mosquitos.

This roadhouse is world renowned to climbers as the place to fuel up — food and rest — before tackling North America’s tallest peak.

Or, for just an old-fashioned downhome breakfast.”