Walk the Right Road: The Complete Series by Lorhainne Eckhart Page A

or maybe it was that damn dream. She couldn’t shake it—or maybe Sam didn’t believe her. Once a liar, always a liar. Steamy heat rose in her cheeks from the obtrusive voice that squeaked in her head. Now she really wanted to hide. Instead, she stared at her bare toes and the dingy hardwood floor.
    “What about the passenger manifest, and all the planes arriving at that time?” Sam paced and circled his hand in the air for emphasis.
    Jesse cast his rough gaze at Marcie. “We know from security footage that you came off Sam’s flight, but I couldn’t find no Marcie listed on the manifest. Why’s that, you suppose?”
    Marcie didn’t know what to say, dumbfounded. The floor softened beneath her feet, while a spiraling sensation rippled through her. Disconcerted, she searched out Sam for help, but he too narrowed his now accusatory eyes.
    “Oh no, I swear I don’t remember.” Just confess. The pressure became too much. Her throat closed up, and her lip trembled when bubbled tears flowed with a noisy sob. She scrunched her eyes shut to block out all doubts. She couldn’t suck back the cry no matter how hard she tried.
    “Oh no, woman crying. Sam, I don’t do the crying girl thing. Do something.”
    “Shut up,” Sam muttered.
    Marcie clenched her trembling hands.
    “Marcie, stop. Come on.” Sam touched her, except she could tell by his hesitant, distant, awkward squeeze—an obligatory touch—that he’d pulled inside himself. Why bother? It was such an affront that she was mortified and took a step back, and Sam’s hand fell away.
    She clutched her hands under her chin and tried to see Sam through the film of tears that coated her swollen eyes. “Sam, I don’t remember. I know I lied when I didn’t tell you about the dream. I’m positive it was a memory, and you knew. But I think I did something really bad, and I don’t know what it was. Maybe I don’t want to know. I don’t want to be a bad person. Please help me.”
    “What dream? She did something—Sam, what the hell’s going on?”
    “Marcie, come sit down.” He grabbed his bag and tossed the canvas tote so that it landed with a heavy clunk on the floor, just missing Jesse’s foot.
    “Hey, watch it,” Jesse said.
    Sam slung his arm around Marcie’s shoulder, being kind again as he settled her on the sofa. He hunkered down across from her on the now cleared coffee table. His long legs encased hers, and he leaned in and rubbed her arms. How could he be so nice? He should have tossed her out.
    Jesse cleared his gruff throat. “Look, Marcie, I just don’t want to see my man here tromped on again by another deceitful woman, and there’s something about you, with no luggage, robbed in a crowded, busy airport for your backpack—it leaves me with a lot of questions.”
    Sam wiped his hand across his forehead. “Mother of God, will you stop, Jesse? I’m not a kid anymore, and I somehow don’t think Marcie’s here to rob me blind,” Sam snapped with pure annoyance. “Did you find out anything useful?”
    Jesse held up both palms in surrender. “I’m telling you the passenger log doesn’t list a Marcie or Marcia or anything similar. So I still don’t know who she is.”
    “Maybe Marcie’s a nickname. Have you thought of that? Can’t you get her face up on the news and see if anyone recognizes her?” Sam sounded pissed.
    Marcie jumped up when an icy shiver raced up from the center of her belly. Her face lost all color. The room swayed. This time, Marcie knew she was going to faint. Her vision tunneled. Sam’s firm hand on her back sat her down and pushed her head between her knees.
    “Take a deep breath. If you feel like you’re going to puke, let me know. Jesse, grab me that bucket under the sink. Come on, hurry.”

Chapter Eight
    S am loved Jesse like a brother, even after the angry rift that had torn their friendship apart: Elise—his first love—his wife. Maybe that was why he understood how Jesse could assume the worst