But Luke only has eyes for Sal, watching her pretty profile as she takes it in, looking like a kid on Christmas morning. She’s still painfully thin, but her face has more color than it did in the hospital. Her dark hair has been combed glossy, hanging down to her waist in loose waves.
Only the sharp bend of the bus is enough to draw Luke’s attention from Sal. He stiffens as he realizes what they’re approaching. Hellier Curve. The place of Sal’s car accident.
Luke’s hand grips white on the headrest. He’s aware that both he and Seth are staring at Sal. They’re watching her face to see what she remembers, if anything from that night comes back to her. But her eyes stay blank, her face impassive.
As the bus rounds the corner, it takes the curve so fast its tires squeal. Sal wobbles and nearly pitches forward into the windshield.
Luke’s there to catch her, wrapping a protective arm around her waist. Sal tenses as he yanks her close but doesn’t pull away.
As Luke swears under his breath at the driver, it’s Seth who takes up the yelling. “Jesus, easy,” he snaps, tossing the driver an angry look. They’ve got precious cargo on board.
A shaky exhale. “Nice catch.”
Luke’s attention flicks back to Sal, so curved into him it’s like they’ve never been apart. The fragile weight of her, her very nearness has him relishing the feel of Sal finally in his arms.
He clears his throat. “You okay?”
“A-OK.” Letting out a silvery laugh, Sal braces a hand against Luke’s chest. When she fans her slender fingers out over his heart, every muscle in Luke’s body locks. Her touch is like a thousand volts of electricity to his nerve endings. The nearness of her makes him fall-on-his-knees grateful.
“Just getting my bus legs back, I guess.” She stares at Luke for a long moment, her eyes almost searching, then she drops her hand.
He releases her, hating the absence of her in his arms, and she goes to sit next to Jace.
“Hey, Luke.” Seth’s voice is low. Too low.
Luke turns to Seth. “What is it?”
Seth points out the window. “We got company.”
As the bus pulls onto the snakelike dirt road that leads to Wild Antler Farm, Luke sees the circus that awaits. Media and reporters swarm the front of the farmhouse. One in particular catches his attention. Luke’s hands ball into fists. Clive Jasper, that dirty rat bastard, leads the pack.
“Holy shit,” Sal says, her stunned voice making Luke jump. “You really are famous.”
Jace barks out a laugh. “You thought we were lyin’?”
Her mouth twitches. “Exaggerating, more like.”
“I’ll give you ten bucks for every one you hit,” Luke says as the driver pulls into the driveway.
Beside him, Seth adds, “Make it twenty.”
The bus comes to a stop with a groaning whine.
“Okay, boys,” Mort says, slicking his stringy hair back. “Get Sal inside, and I’ll handle this.”
The bus doors open. The crescendo of reporter babble blasts Luke’s ears. Gritting his teeth, he says to Mort, “They ain’t off my property in ten minutes, I’m gettin’ my shotgun.”
Seth hops out. “Shit, that’s being generous.”
Luke’s out next, turning immediately to find Sal reaching for him, her green eyes curious, yet tinged with fear. “You ready?” His eyes hold steady on hers, waiting for permission. Finally, she gives a determined nod. Her armor is a go.
Luke picks Sal up by the waist and sets her on the ground next to him. Before the sea of reporters can surge forward, he shields her protectively with his arm, blocking their view of Sal. They want her tragedy for their own, and he’ll do his damnedest to ensure they don’t get it.
Sal winces at the aggressive glare of flashbulbs, at the questions being lobbed her way, at the strangers clamoring for a glimpse of her. With a soft gasp, she turns her face into Luke’s chest.
The look of fear in her eyes sends a surge of anger straight through him.
“C’mon, darlin’,” Luke says as Jace and Seth flank her, protecting her from the cameras as they lope up the front steps to the wraparound porch.