Wicked Torture (Stark World 3)

"It's Darla," Dallas said flatly, as the ground fell out from under Noah. "Darla's the woman in the pickup."

21

Darla.

The name settles on me like a ghost, and I back away without thinking--then realize with despair how easily Noah lets my fingers slip out of his grip.

Darla.

It's like a nightmare. No, it is a nightmare.

Behind me, Celia puts her hand on my shoulder, and though I welcome her steadying presence, it's not her touch I crave. But Noah hasn't reached for me. He hasn't done anything. He's just standing there, as if Dallas is speaking in an ancient language that Noah can't comprehend.

Finally, I manage to speak. "You're sure? It's really her? Not some con artist trying to fuck with him?"

"It's her," Dallas says.

My chest aches and my skin turns clammy. Icy fear settles over me, and it's all I can do not to let everyone see the way I'm shaking. But dammit, I'm going to be strong.

Noah turns then and looks at me, his expression more lost than I've ever seen. I hate myself right now, and I move back to his side and press my right hand to the small of his back. He needs as much strength as I can give him. This is a shock, but it doesn't change anything. He's moved on with his life.

The problem is that I'm afraid that he's going to slide backwards.

Yes, it's a miracle that she's alive, but I can't deny that I'm scared. Because she's a threat. She's the enemy, just like she was all those years ago when she took him away from me.

Except she's not, and I need to push past that fear. This is now, not ten years ago.

Noah and I have both grown so much since Los Angeles, and even though this is a shock, I'll be by his side, and we'll get through it together.

I rub my left ring finger, remembering the love in his eyes when he told me that one day he'd give me the ring for real.

I tell myself this doesn't change anything.

But the truth is, I don't believe myself.

My thoughts are churning. And right now, I'm so very scared.

"You checked DNA," Noah finally says, and his low, raw voice reminds me of a wounded animal. "It's been barely any time, but Deliverance has the resources to act fast. You did, didn't you? There's no doubt. Otherwise, you wouldn't be here." He looks at Dallas. "Would you?"

The tiny movement of Dallas's head is barely a nod. "There's no doubt."

Noah opens his mouth, as if to ask a question, then closes it again.

I step forward. "Why now? What happened? How did she survive? Why is she back?" The questions roll off my tongue, followed by the one I've been trying the hardest not to think about. "Are they still married?"

"I've asked Charles--my attorney--to look into that," Damien says. And the fact that the answer isn't a simple no weighs heavy on me.

"As for the other questions," Dallas says, "I asked her that on the phone." His focus is on Noah. "She says she'll tell you everything. But only you, at least at first."

He nods. "Okay, then. I'll go back to Austin tonight. Damien, I know it's not company business, but can I use one of the Stark jets?"

"Of course," Damien says.

"But you're not going to Austin," Ryan puts in. "We offered to fly her out here to meet you, but she turned us down. She said she's driving back to Oklahoma City. She should be there by now."

"That's where she was from," Noah says, as if that is more convincing evidence than DNA.

"We checked that out, too," Dallas says. "Her mother's still there in a small house outside of town. No income other than her disability check. Darla's father passed away five years ago with no assets and no insurance. As far as we could tell, Darla showed up on her doorstep a few months ago, then drove down to Austin more recently to look for you."