Riders (Riders, #1)(21)

“Gideon? Ready to pick back up?” Cordero says.

I swallow. “Yes.”

But she waits a moment longer, like she’s making sure she believes me. Her elbows settle on the desk and she weaves her fingers together. “You’d gone to find Daryn on the beach.”

“Wait. I have some demands first.”

“We had a deal. I already accepted your demands. You asked for Colonel Nellis. I’ll bring him to you as soon as we’re done. And you’ll be free to go.”

“I have new demands.”

Her lips go flat. “And they are?”

“I need more water. I want my legs untied. And I want to see the guys I came in with.”

“Yes to your first request, no to rest.” She looks at Texas, who picks up the water bottle at his feet and comes forward.

As I drink from the straw I notice him eyeing the cuff. Interesting. Maybe he is starting to believe me.

Back in our positions, Cordero’s ready to go again. “You’d been abandoned on the beach by Daryn. You said an hour passed before you went after her?”

Did I say an hour? Can’t remember. “No. It was closer to half an hour.”

I draw a breath, preparing to wade back into the past. I was so shaken up that night, standing by the Jeep. The muscles in my arms and shoulders had knotted with tension. I remember how the ocean smelled different than by my house. How the fog was growing thicker, like smoke rolling over the beach as I stood there, trying to make sense of what I’d just been told.

I remember Daryn, that very first day.





CHAPTER 13

“Don’t say anything,” I said as I approached her. She was sitting on the sand hugging her legs and watching the waves, her chin resting on a knee. “I don’t want to hear another word.” I didn’t have room for more ridiculous explanations.

“Do I look like I want to talk to you?” she asked, without looking up.

She did not.

“I brought you water.” I tossed a bottle by her feet. “And this.” I dropped my San Francisco Giants sweatshirt next to her. It was cooling down and her leather jacket didn’t look very warm.

She reached for the sweatshirt and pulled it over her shoulders, ignoring the water.

Confusing. She’d been so insistent about her thirst earlier. I stood there for another second, not really sure what I was waiting for. Then I said, “Okay. You’re welcome,” and walked away.

I wanted to head about a thousand miles in the other direction but I went maybe fifty meters. Far enough to have some space, but close enough that she was still visible in the foggy night. The confrontation at Joy’s was fresh in my mind. It was fresh in my body, by way of my broken hand. But even with the fight aside, I wouldn’t have left anyone out there alone. The fact that she was female made it nonnegotiable.

Two seconds after I sat down, Daryn got up and walked the other way. And, wow. That really got to me.

“Good night, angel!” I yelled. Then since I was already being so mature, I belted out a horse neigh at the top of my lungs.

Or was it a whinny? It suddenly seemed super important to understand horse sounds. Like, just a really important thing to get a handle on, so I sat down and tried to work that out. Some part of me recognized that I was maybe in denial, but I was stuck in that gear until Anna’s phone rang in my pocket.

I fished it out. My mom was calling, but the image on the small screen paralyzed me. My parents in Yosemite. Smiling, with their arms around each other. I could see Half Dome behind them. I could see part of my arm in the background, too. Flexed, because I was showing off my biceps, which were new. It was spring. Anna and I had just turned sixteen. We’d gone camping for our birthdays.

The phone kept vibrating but I couldn’t make myself answer it. I didn’t want to talk to my mom. I couldn’t face the worry I was probably putting her through. I couldn’t think of a single person I’d have answered for.

Wait, I could.

My dad.

But I knew he wasn’t calling.

When the call went to voicemail, I saw a string of alerts for the dozen other voicemails and texts I’d somehow missed. There were more from Mom. From Taylor, Anna’s roommate. From Griffin and Casbah. From Cory. There was even a missed call from Wyatt Crazy Eyes Sinclair.

I stuffed the phone back into my sweatshirt pocket and pressed my eyes closed, trying to unsee that photo. Trying to think. If Cory had called, did my commanding officer in the Army know what was going on?

Hold up. All I’d done was get into a college brawl. And that was to protect someone—it wasn’t something I’d instigated. The rest was …

What was the rest?

I rubbed my hand over my head—my busted hand, which was feeling a lot better. The pain was fading away and the swelling had started to decrease, too.

But really. War?

War?

Naw. No way.

This was just a practical joke. Someone had decided I’d make a great contestant for their reality show. I shot to my feet and stared into the darkness. They were going to regret that decision.

“Where are you?” I demanded, searching for cameras. “You really want me in your dumbass show?”

The phone rang in my pocket again. I grabbed it and launched it as far as I could into the waves. It felt good. It felt great, in fact, so I kept going, hurling shells, sticks, rocks, anything I could find into the ocean. When I’d finally worn my anger down some, I dropped to the sand.