CHAPTER 17
The paperwork took forty minutes.
When Naomi finished, she stepped back out onto Main Street and stopped.
She scanned the street, looking for Travis. For his lean figure. She half expected him to be standing nearby with his hands in his pockets, wearing that easy smile that never reached his eyes.
Her pulse quickened, but she saw nothing of concern.
She forced herself to breathe and started walking.
Eleven forty-two. Eighteen minutes until she was supposed to meet Micah.
The cold air bit at her face as she moved down the sidewalk, hands shoved deep in her pockets. She kept her eyes forward, but her awareness stretched wider—checking reflections in shop windows, listening for footsteps behind her, feeling for the shift in air that meant someone was too close.
You’re being paranoid.
Ember & Oak came into view across the street.
Naomi glanced over her shoulder one more time as she stepped off the curb.
She stumbled on the uneven pavement.
As she caught herself, a memory suddenly hit her.
Her back hitting something solid.
A hand pressing her against concrete.
No—not concrete. Brick.
A brick wall, cold and rough.
Her temple throbbed, just once, sharp enough to make her wince.
The next images came in disjointed fragments.
A narrow space. Darkness pressing in from the sides. The smell of wet pavement and something metallic she couldn’t name.
Blood, maybe?
Her breath hitched.
She remembered hands grabbing her. A voice, low and close, saying words she couldn’t make out.
Then pain. Sharp. Blinding.
Then . . . nothing.
Naomi froze.
She stood in the middle of the street, her mind suspended somewhere between here and New York, between now and then.
The fragments wouldn’t let go. Wouldn’t release her.
A horn blared.
Her head snapped up.
A sedan—dark blue, coming fast—was bearing down on her.
If she didn’t move, she would be hit.
