Masters at Arms (Rescue Me Saga, #0.5)(5)

When the man stood up and walked across the terminal, Karla began to shake again. Only this time, there were no butterflies. Just a feeling like the flu she had last year.

Would she have to deal with creeps like these all the way to New York? Had she made the right decision to run away? Her parents didn’t understand how urgent it was for her to start her career now, rather than wait a few years. They just thought she was a stupid sixteen-year-old.

Wait until you graduate from high school. Then you can study music at Loyola.

They’d been telling her that since school started. Didn’t they realize she couldn’t wait that long? Now was her chance. Her music teacher said she had a gift. She didn’t need more schooling. She just needed to find a job where she could sing for people who could discover her talent and offer her a recording contract. If she didn’t go now, she just knew she’d never get there. She’d never be anybody in the music business.

Her parents would be surprised, and sad, when they woke up tomorrow and she wasn’t in her bed. Her eyes burned. She loved them a lot and didn’t want to make them sad, but…

“Here. Eat this.”

Karla looked up to find the soldier had returned, holding a fast-food bag toward her. She grinned as she stashed her book in her backpack and took the sack from him. He came back to you.

As soon as she opened the sack, the smell of greasy burgers and fries caused her stomach to rumble even louder than before. She felt her face grow hotter, but was too hungry to let it faze her. She’d skipped lunch today so she could run to the bank and clean out her account for the trip.

“Thanks.” She smiled up at him.

The soldier sat down beside her again. She felt him watching her. When she glanced his way, he just smiled and watched as she pigged out on the food. Gawd, she hadn’t realized how hungry she was! Feeling a little guilty, she held out the box of fries and offered him some.

He chuckled. “No. They’re all for you.”

After she’d finished the second hamburger, he handed her a soda. She drank half of it before letting go of the straw and taking a deep breath. She felt so full now she thought she’d explode.

“That was so good. Thanks.” She smiled at him. He really was just trying to be nice. Still, she knew to be leery of strangers, even nice ones. But she also knew she’d have to learn to trust some strangers, if she was going to make it in New York. He seemed like a safe one.

Maybe because her brother was in the Army. Ian would have helped out a scared girl, too, if someone was bothering her.

“So, where’s home?”

“Here,” she answered, without thinking. “But I’m going to live in New York.”

“Why New York?”

“They have the best Goth clubs and recording companies.”

“So you like to sing?”

“Better than anything.”

“What do you sing?”

“Tarja’s music mostly.” She could tell by his blank stare he had no idea who Tarja Tarunun was. Well, her parents had no clue either. “She’s the lead singer for Nightwish.” Still blank. “A metal band from Finland.”

He nodded. “I see.”

No, you don’t. But he was kinda cute for pretending he did. She started to crumple up the bag, and then his hand covered hers to stop her. She felt a weird tingling go up her arm, almost like being shocked with electricity. Her heart banged against her chest.

“Look inside. There’s more.”

She reopened the bag and moved the crumpled wrappers and empty fries box aside. Like opening a Christmas present. She had a momentary pang of regret, realizing she wouldn’t be home to open presents this year.

O-M-G, pie! The box was rust colored. “Apple or cherry?” she asked.

“Cherry.”

“How’d you know? That’s my favorite!” She reached in and pulled out the box.

He shrugged and smiled. His eyes lit up again. “Lucky guess.”

*

Adam watched her devour the pie in just a few bites. He thought teenage boys had voracious appetites. How she stayed so skinny was beyond him. Of course, she hadn’t eaten all day. Maybe he should have bought her more to eat.

Man, her parents must be worried sick.

He regretted that he and Joni hadn’t been able to have children. She’d have been a terrific mom. Tamping down those thoughts, he looked at the little Goth girl. She wore too much black. At least her pink hair gave her some color.

“Isn’t your family going to miss you for Thanksgiving?” Aw, hell. He’d gone and asked one of those f*cking nosy questions he didn’t want people asking him.

Watch your language around the kid.

She pulled her lower lip between her teeth. “They’ll understand.”

Doubtful.

After she’d finished the pie, she put her garbage into the bag, except for the soda, and started to get up to throw it away. Adam took the sack and wadded it even tighter, then lobbed it into the open can at the end of the row. Score! First basket he’d made since he’d played in high school.

He reached out his hand to her, “We haven’t been introduced. I’m Master Sergeant Adam Montague, U.S. Marine Corps. But you can call me Adam.”

She placed her limp hand inside his and they shook. “Karla Paxton…the next Madonna.” She giggled. “My friends call me…um, well, Karla’s good.”