Page 140 of One Killer Night

Noah’s lips seal over mine, and I swear, we both sigh into each other as he wraps his arms around me, and we kiss. Faintly, because all my senses are stolen by Noah, I hear our song play: “These Dreams,” by Heart.

He pulls away, half a smile crooking his mouth. “I think it’s a sign.”

I smile too.

His hand slides back into mine before we turn, looking back out to the crowd and pulling strength from each other.

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice someone onstage tapping a mic. They must be getting ready to start the scene from that damn movie my sister was talking about.

A light bulb goes off.

“Noah.” I tap his arm to gain his attention and point to the stage, but he shakes his head.

“It’s going to take too long to find her this way,” I press, but he’s not listening, so I tug my hand from him and dart away, zipping through the crowd before he can stop me.

I don’t care if it brings attention to us. It’ll help me find my sister, and then we can get the hell out of here. But the moment I make it to the stairs up to the stage, Noah grabs my waist, having followed behind closely.

“Noah, we could find her quicker.”

He urges me back down. “It’ll put a fucking spotlight on you.”

But I refuse to listen. I shove his hands off me and run up onto the stage anyway before looking back at him.

“Get to her faster than he does,” I rush out, but he looks panicked as he takes the stairs too.

I rush to the microphone and push past the guy standing there before I grip it with my hands. The guy tries to pull it back, cursing me for being onstage, but I ignore him and hold on to it for dear life.

“Evie.” My voice is louder than I expect as it echoes through the room, which makes me blanch, but I say it again as I struggle to keep the microphone in hand. “Evie Monroe.”

The crowd begins to stare at me, and the music that was playing fades out. All their eyes are focused directly on me.Fuck.Noah was right. I may as well have an arrow over my head, but from up on the stage, I can see the whole crowd.

The crew guy manhandles the mic away and walks the setup offstage as I head toward Noah. I’m searching and so is he until my gasp gets his attention.

I see my sister in the back of the room. She’s waving at me.

“Noah, she’s there,” I say, pointing in her direction.

His face whips away from mine, and he cups his hands around his mouth as he bellows, “Chase!”

My eyes search frantically, then see my favorite chef give us a thumbs-up as he hauls ass her way.

“Oh god,” I rush out as my shoulders sag, because it finally feels like everything’s going to be okay.

But as I step toward Noah, I hear my name. I turn and lock eyes with a familiar face. The man of the hour.

Remus walks toward me, but Noah’s already onstage next to me. The kindness that’s usually on Remus’s face is gone, replaced with animosity as he stares directly at Noah.

Noah’s arm moves in front of me protectively, guiding me back just behind him.

“What are you doing, Goldie? You’re not supposed to be up here,” Remus says as his eyes go to mine before returning to Noah’s.

I look up at Noah’s profile and see his jaw tensing before I whisper my words out on a very shaky breath. “That’s him. That’s the guy who I think sent you the picture.”

Noah’s face darts to mine. A frown forms before he ever so slightly shakes his head like I’m wrong.

Remus asks Noah how he got to the camp, since he doesn’t recognize him, but I’m lost in my thoughts.

I don’t understand. Remus is who told me this story. Remus is who seemed too attached ... too callous about the deaths. He gave me the shirt and knew I was taking a hike.