Page 128 of Lust & Lies

“I’ll take her home while you take care of this. Call Dr. Mercer. Have him meet us at the estate. Quickly.”

“I’m on it, boss.”

I rushed to Chan’s car, opened the passenger door, and eased her in as other cars sped past. Noe’s head lolled against the seat, lips parted slightly. She was still breathing, but out cold. I glanced over her after I buckled her in. There wasn’t a cut on her. So why wouldn’t she wake up? I brushed her hair from her face.

“Hold on, baby,” I whispered. “I’m not letting anything happen to you. Not again.”

I closed the door, rounded the front of the van, and climbed into the driver’s seat. Then I took off toward the estate. I kept glancing her way as I drove, checking to see if she moved or woke up. She did neither.

This was my fault. I should’ve been paying attention instead of letting my mind drift to work and the conversation I needed to have with Noe. I hadn’t been paying attention. And neither had that other fucking driver.

If he hadn’t tried to get ahead of me, the accident never would’ve happened. Once Noe was safe and being treated, I’d find out who that motherfucker was and where he lived. I needed him dead before midnight. I looked over at Noe again.

Come on, baby. Wake up for me. I’ve just got you back. I can’t lose you again.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

NOELLE

THE CAR ACCIDENT HAPPENEDso fast that I barely had time to react. Before the accident, I was staring out the passenger side window, looking at the black van that had been following us since we turned off the dirt road near the estate and onto the main road.

I’d been nervous about us being tailed. But after we left the hotel site, I saw Aiden check his rearview mirror and knew he’d noticed it too. His lack of concern let me know it had to be someone he knew.

He had someone following us. A protection detail. At first, it angered me, but then I realized I was getting angry about every damn thing, and that was a problem. A protection detail meant Aiden had concerns for our safety, and he took those concerns seriously.

That was nothing to get angry about. Plus, my husband was no ordinary man, no matter how much he pretended to be. He’d proven that today. The smell at that hotel site hadn’t been roadkill.

It definitely hadn’t been the stench of cigarette smoke. The fact that I knew exactly what it was, bothered me. It scared me. But it was time I accepted the fact that I wasn’t ordinary either.

I wasn’t some pretty housewife. I’d never felt like one anyway. Aiden wanted us to be normal, but we weren’t, and Iwas tired of pretending to be. I needed to trust what I felt, trust my instincts. I felt comfortable in the garden. I could trust that feeling.

I felt comfortable with Aiden, despite the memories that were returning. I wanted to believe I could trust that feeling, too. These feelings of comfort had to count for something. I couldn’t discredit them.

I also knew it would be foolish of me to discredit the darker memories. I’d hoped to have answers today. Unfortunately, life had a way of interrupting plans. These interruptions weren’t Aiden’s fault. Neither was my memory loss.

The problems lie in the bad memories. And Aiden was ready to talk about them with me. That had to count for something. So, instead of sitting there, staring out the window, all woe is me, I should’ve been listening to music and enjoying the drive with my husband. I turned in my seat to do just that when a car drifted into our lane without warning.

“Watch out!” I screamed.

Everything happened so fast after that. Aiden jerked the wheel. We skidded across gravel and dirt. Aiden’s arm stretched out in front of me as he slammed on the brakes. My body lurched against the seat belt, the strap biting into my chest.

Then a memory hit me out of nowhere, a sense of déjà vu creeping over me. I closed my eyes against the blinding light. But the light wasn’t in front of me. It was all in my head. The world around me disappeared, and all I could see was that night.

The night of the accident. Bright lights blinded me in the dead of night as a car barreled toward us. It was another one of those dreams that made me feel like I was watching it unfold from the sidelines.

Tires screeched, loud and shrill, cutting through the quiet night. A woman cried out as the car jolted. Was that mescreaming like that? I wasn’t sure. My body lurched forward. The seatbelt caught me across the chest.

A man’s arm shot across my vision. I couldn’t see his face, just the way he’d reacted quickly, shielding the woman next to him. Was that me he was protecting? I couldn’t tell. Everything was spinning.

Another smash sounded. Someone had hit us from behind. We swerved off the road. Then the window exploded next to me, glass shattering and raining down on me. I could feel the wind tearing through the space where the glass used to be.

The car spun twice. My stomach twisted as the vehicle flipped, slamming us upside down. Somebody screamed. It could’ve been me. Maybe it wasn’t. I didn’t know. Everything blurred together: the noise, the car flipping, the sting of glass against my skin.

Then I heard a male’s voice shouting, “Noelle, are you okay? Noelle!”

“I’m fine.”

Was that me? Was I the woman speaking or just watching from the back seat? But he’d called her Noelle. I was Noelle. So how was I watching from the backseat when the man was clearly speaking to the woman in the passenger seat?