Rebel (Renegades #2)(69)
Author: Skye Jordan

He let out a relieved breath when it rested flat again, then grinned at the phone camera. “Couldn’t do that two days ago.” He gave a thumbs-up. “Thanks, Rubi.”

“And that’s our show for today,” Wes said, then added a soft, private, “You’ve made a real difference here, beautiful,” before the video cut out. “This rig would have been pathetic without your programming. You should be proud.”

The video ended, leaving her screen with a still image of the first frame, a big circled arrow overlaying the center. The darkening sky seemed to float closer. The wind off the ocean chilled her skin and blew her hair. And emotions swirled in her chest.

“You’ve made a real difference here.”

The words lingered like an echo. And despite her initial urge to douse the pride that was indeed filling her chest, push it off, and give Wes credit—well-deserved credit—the meaning of this stuck. Yes, she made a difference with projects like the one she was struggling over with the NSA by aiding in national security. But it was so diluted, she didn’t feel it. Never saw it. And when someone worked in an isolated setting as she did, motivation and morale drastically improved when she saw the direct correlation of her work—like she did with Renegades. Like she just had with the rig.

And the light, open, promising sensation filling her chest made her realize some sort of crossroads for her life loomed close.

Rubi trusted her gut and dialed Lexi’s cell.

“Hey,” Lexi answered. “I’m glad you called. I’m going to need to cancel dinner tomorrow tonight. I’ve got a client who can’t come in any other time, and—”

“I’ll make you a deal” Rubi closed her eyes. “I’ll forgive you for canceling dinner if you take me to the airport on your lunch break.”

“Of course,” Lexi said, surprised. “I didn’t know you’d planned a trip. Where are you going?”

Rubi drew in a deep, slow breath. Held it a second. And jumped. “Missouri.”

Twenty

“Who’s f**king idea was this?”

Rubi had the air-conditioning on, because the thickness of the Missouri air seemed to make breathing more difficult. And everything smelled…damp. She was exhausted. The nights without sleep, the stress, the long work hours—it was all catching up to her. Great timing, seeing as she was on a two-lane country road in the middle of Nowhere, Missouri, alone, with no one to tell her where to go but the mysterious female GPS voice. But that was her own fault—she’d sworn Lexi to secrecy. Rubi wasn’t ready to call Wes and tell him she was here. Wasn’t even ready to admit she was here. Right about halfway through the flight, she’d developed this thick knot of dread in her belly.

That was also about the time a little voice in her head said, Turn back.

What the hell do you think you’re doing?

This isn’t you.

You don’t belong here.

More and more trees flew by, lining the grassy roadside. Rubi had never seen so many trees in her life. In all her combined years. Once she’d turned off the main interstate, she’d seen nothing but trees and trees and more trees. Occasionally, a break in the trees revealed a field. Then another. Then back to the trees. And while her headlights hinted toward their changing fall colors, it was too dark to appreciate. There were as many trees here as there were people in Los Angeles. Occasionally, another car would pass in the other direction, but otherwise, no traffic. And the longer she drove, coming up on an hour now, the tighter her stomach pinched and the louder the voice grew.

“What the hell am I doing?” she muttered to herself, forehead resting in her hand.

“In five hundred feet,” the GPS voice said, scaring Rubi’s heart into her throat, “turn right.”

A sliver of relief eased her belly. She turned at the next street and continued along the narrow, two-lane road. But she was now moving at a slight upward grade. The GPS took her through another half dozen series of turns and deeper into the trees.

“Your destination is one hundred feet on your right,” Ms. GPS said.

“What?” Rubi asked, as if she’d get an answer from the machine. There was nothing out here.

“You’ve arrived at your destination.”

Rubi checked her mirrors and stopped on the deserted road. On her right, a gravel road extended through the trees and into nothing. “What the hell?”

She pressed her head to her hand, feeling so utterly ridiculous, her body temperature rose five degrees. At least no one could see her acting so moronically. If she turned around and headed back to the airport now, she could catch the next flight home, grab a cab to her house, and tell Lexi she’d changed her mind. Decided not to go after all. No one would be the wiser.

Rubi pulled onto the gravel drive to get off the road and stared down the lonely stretch with swamping disappointment and a wicked streak of failure. Christ, she didn’t even know why she was here anymore. She was so tired. Maybe she’d get a hotel back in St. Louis. Drink her dinner. And fall into bed.

On a groan of torment, she laid her head against the steering wheel and closed her eyes.

Three knocks on her window jerked her head up. Disoriented, terrorized, Rubi leaned away from the window, gripping the steering wheel with bloodless fingers. An old woman stared in at her, a perplexed look on her face.

Rubi’s heart was still skittering around her chest when the woman asked, “Are you all right, sweetheart?”

A dream? A hallucination? Had she fallen asleep?

“Honey?”

The woman’s concerned tone refocused Rubi. She darted glances through the windshield, the passenger’s window, the rearview mirror.

Trees. Missouri.

Damn.

She must have fallen asleep. But a glance at the dashboard clock said it couldn’t have been for long.

Rubi’s fingers shook when she pressed the window control and rolled the glass down halfway. The thick, cool air swept into the car, dragging every scent of vegetation and earth in as well.

“I’m okay,” Rubi said. “Sorry. I’m kind of…um…lost.”

She was pretty for an old woman, her hair a silvery blonde, her eyes smoky blue, great bone structure…

“Who are you lookin’ for?” Her accent was thick, and the twang reminded Rubi of the soft lilt she’d heard in Wes’s voice on the video the night before. “I know everyone round these parts.”

“Um…the Lawson family? Wes Lawson?”