Lash had stopped at a cheap motel just outside of Vaughn, New Mexico, saying that they should lay low for a while. He hid the car in the back of the motel. She thought he was crazy because there was a big sign out front with a big red arrow pointing to the building basically saying, “They’re in there. Come and get her.”
She trusted Lash, so if he thought it was safe to stay there for the night, so be it. She was tired and she really wanted to take the stink out of her clothes. Lesson learned. Don’t eat tuna from a gas station.
“Nothing. Just smashing one of the dozen roaches in here.” She slammed a shoe against the floor, wishing someone would do the same to her. Yes, that was what she needed—someone to slap her back to reality.
Naomi reflected on the drive to the hotel. Once they’d been at a safe distance and sure that they were no longer being followed by Sal, she had calmed down and watched Lash drive from the corner of her eye. She couldn’t stop staring at him, especially his lips. Something was wrong with her. Really wrong. Here she was with her life in danger, the demons of Hell literally chasing her, and all she could think about was his hand on her body, and those lips—those perfectly shaped, luscious lips.
She caught herself in the mirror mid-pucker and made a face. She was hopeless. She plopped down on top of the toilet seat, dropped her head in her hands, and willed herself to focus on what needed to be done. First, she had to call Welita.
She took the cell phone out of her backpack and was happy to see that she was able to get reception for the first time since they’d crossed the New Mexico-Texas border.
“Mijita? Is that you?”
“Yes, Welita.” Her throat constricted, and her eyes pricked with tears. Had it only been hours since she last talked to her? It felt like days. “I wanted to let you know I’m okay.”
“I knew you would be,” she said. There was a beat of silence. “Is there something wrong?”
“No, I’m just happy to hear your voice.” The lump in her throat grew. For some reason, it felt like it was the last time she would be talking to her. “I love you, Welita.”
“Te amo,” she whispered back. “I was blessed the moment you were placed in my arms. You’re special, and you’re here for a purpose. Don’t forget that.”
“I’m afraid.” She tightened her grip on the phone, as if by doing so, she could hold on to Welita. “I’m afraid I won’t ever see you or Chuy again.”
“Ay, Mijita. Haven’t you learned by now? Love will always guide you home.”
When she was done, Naomi took a deep breath and opened the bathroom door. Lash took watch by the window in the darkened room, with the only light coming from the bathroom. She took in the smatter of stubble on his chiseled jaw and the line of his aquiline nose. Déjà vu rippled through her. She’d seen something like this before.
“What’s wrong?” Lash hurried to her side.
Her heart pounded at his touch, and her eyes traveled from the strong hand that rested on her arm to his biceps, and then to his broad shoulders. It slowly came to her. The dream she’d had when she was in the hospital … The man in her dream had looked like him. Same broad shoulders, chiseled jaw, nose. How was that possible?
“Nothing,” she swallowed. “I thought I saw something, but it was nothing.” He gazed at her skeptically, and she turned away from his intense stare. “I guess I’m tired.” She trudged to the bed and paused as she realized it was the only one in the room.
“You take it. I’ll keep watch.”
“We could share. I mean, it’s not like anything is going to happen …” Her voice trailed off as she felt her face grow hot remembering his kiss.
“Naomi, about what happened back there.” He took a step back and brushed a hand through his hair. “I, uh, I crossed a line that I shouldn’t have.”
“Oh.” She turned away. She should have known better. She was just a mission for him to accomplish.
“I got carried away in the heat of the moment.”
“Yeah, yeah. I get it.” She waved him off.
“We’re still friends, right?”
“Yeah … friends.” She could barely say the word. There was no expectation that they were or would ever be a couple in the romantic sense. She admitted that she liked him, and being friends was a good thing. But why was it so painful?
Bear trotted to her, wagging her tail, and Naomi picked her up. Bear gazed at her with sad eyes, sensing her heartache, and licked her hand. She wasn’t the only one.
The bed sank, and Naomi felt him behind her. She couldn’t let him see her like this, like some love-struck teenage girl who’d just found out the quarterback of the football team only liked her as a friend. She had to be strong.
“Are you crying?”
She bowed her head, glad the shadows hid her face. “No.” Good. Her voice sounded strong, not like the driveling mess she felt like.
“Turn around.”
“No.”
“Let me see your face, Naomi.” He moved closer to her.
“Go away.”
Bear barked, warning him to keep his distance.