Momentum by Imogen Rose Read Free Book Online Page B

current look. Yuck. No wonder.
    “Don’t be silly, you look as beautiful as ever,” he said.
    “What? I didn’t say anything,” I blurted.
    “Oh, sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I’m still tired.”
    “What did you mean, don’t be silly?”
    “Well, you were worried about not looking your best….”
    “Yeah, but I didn’t say anything!”
    He rubbed his shoulder against mine. “We’re touching. I can read your thoughts.”
    I instinctively drew away from him. “What the heck? Read my thoughts?”
      “Yeah, I have a very strong connection with you. I can feel you, even read your thoughts when I touch you. That’s how I found you. I felt you and tracked you.”
    I was at a loss for words.
    “ Flip your tray table into the upright and locked position, and please fasten your seatbelts,” the flight attendant instructed, interrupting us.
      “David?” I prompted, as soon as she left.
    Looking weary again, he ran his fingers through his hair. “Later, please?”
    I bit down on my lip and peered through the window at the San Francisco skyline below, as I tried to take it all in–Wanderers, mind-reading, tracking.
    We had no luggage, so we made it out in no time. I noticed a lady waving at us as we walked out of the gate area. David walked right over and threw his arms around her. I felt a twinge of jealousy rip through me. The woman was model gorgeous, and she was way too close to my David.
    “Morena! Great to see you. What are you doing here? Where’s Dad?” David asked.
    Morena? Strange name, but it sounded familiar. Her smile had turned into a frown, but that just made her look even more attractive. Her green eyes softened, and she smiled when she noticed me as I came forward and looped my arm through David’s.
    “Arizona!” She wrapped her arms around me and drew me in for a hug. “I’m so glad David managed to find you. How are you? Are you hurt in any way? Do you need me to take you to the hospital?”
    “No, I’m fine. Who are you?”
    Arching her eyebrows, she looked at David.
    “Arizona is having issues remembering stuff at the moment,” he explained. “Where’s Dad? I thought he was going to pick us up.”
    “I don’t know. We were supposed to meet at his place. I was dropping off some clothes for Arizona, and then we were going to drive here together. He wasn’t home. I waited for a while, but he didn’t show. Finally, I let myself in. I found this note on the coffee table,” she said, her voice breaking.

 

     
     
    I t was a busy Friday evening at The Hurler, all the regular customers happily settled with their favorite brews in hand. All but one. Sophie noticed that Mr. Swooner was trying to drink from an empty beer mug. She hurried a refill over to his table in the corner. He didn’t even look up as she switched his empty mug for one brimming with foam. He was totally immersed tapping on his laptop keys, sporadically running his fingers over his handwritten notes, his outlines , as he called them. Mr. Swooner–no one knew his first name–was their resident author, writer of bodice-rippers. Resident, as in he was the first one in the door and generally the last customer to leave every day. He was a constant in Sophie’s life. She loved observing him from the counter as he wrote, his facial expressions reflecting his thoughts. Right now, he seemed somber. Perhaps his heroine was in trouble. She left him to his thoughts and walked back to the counter where a group of drunks were impatiently waiting for refills.
    Sophie was glad she had managed to convince the owner, Al, to hire Dan and her back after their sudden departure a year ago. She had panicked when their mug shots were flashed on television. As soon as she saw them, she had grabbed Dan, and they had just taken off without so much as a goodbye, after helping themselves to the cash in the till. Then they’d spent a year on the run, working in seedy bars all over the country, running away at any sign of trouble. Three