I squirmed and gasped, whimpering as fear choked me.
“What do you want?” I asked, even more worried when I noticed a couple of travelers getting ready to intervene. The last thing I wanted were witnesses. Questions. Suspicion. Pictures of me posted all over the internet as the latest unwilling star of some sordid airport drama. I turned my face away from him and from the bystanders’ busy cameras.
He grabbed the lapels of my jacket and squeezed, crushing my chest and almost lifting me off my feet. He stood about eight inches tallerthan me. “Do you know what you did? Do you have any idea? I could kill you right now.” He slammed me into the wall and let go of the jacket as one of the bystanders approached. My head bobbed, seeding a throbbing ache where my skull slammed against the cold gray stone.
“What do you want?” I hissed under my breath, glancing around for an escape.
The bystander touched his elbow gently. “No need for this, kid. Let’s go.” The broad-shouldered man was twice Avery’s weight, in his fifties and with a shaved scalp and thick, muscular neck, the type you’d see at the gym lifting weights every day like their life depended on it. But the kid didn’t care. He turned around and threw a punch at the man without even looking at him.
The man dodged the blow with ease, quick on his toes despite his sturdy build, and then grabbed Avery’s arms and held them immobilized behind his back. “Settle down, kid, and no one will get hurt today.”
In the distance, a couple of uniformed cops rushed toward us.
Great ...Thatwas the last thing I needed. Panic swirled inside me, mercilessly conquering my mind.
Eyes still round in unfeigned fear, I straightened my jacket and adjusted the ballcap on my head. Then I looked at two more concerned bystanders who’d moved in. “I don’t know who this man is. He must have the wrong person or something.”
“Liar!” Avery shouted, starting to writhe against the strong arms holding him still. “You lying bitch! How would you like to lose everything you got, huh?”
“What’s going on here?” The first cop was a burly man in his forties with a bit of a limp in his heavy gait and thick, sausage-like fingers. He was out of breath from the stretch of light running he’d done to respond to the incident. His name tag readJenkinsin an all-caps black font on bronzy gold. His face crumpled in disapproval when he looked at Avery.
I did my best to look completely clueless. It wasn’t difficult. Iwasshaken. “I have no idea, Officer. He ... he just grabbed me—”
“She’s lying! She knows who I am!” the young man screamed. “She knows what she’s done, and now she’s running away!”
“You can let go now, sir,” Jenkins said. The Good Samaritan released his hold on Avery and stepped aside.
The cop’s hand landed firmly on the teenager’s shoulder. “If I have to chase you all over this airport, you’re going straight to jail. Is that clear?”
Avery’s jaw dropped slightly, but he nodded. “I won’t run. I want her to know what she’s done. To hear it from me.” He propped his hands on his hips, breathing heavily and shaking his head as he looked straight at me, seething with rage. Then he spat on the floor, landing it inches away from my boot.
“That’s enough, kid. Let’s see some ID.” Jenkins held his hand out until Avery handed over his wallet.
My gut locked in a painful twist. I was one purse-search away from serving time in prison. At any moment, Jenkins or his partner—a slightly overweight woman with a fierce look on her face and a name tag spelling outRamirez—could turn around and ask for my ID. They could also choose to interrogate us both until they got to the bottom of the teenager’s beef with me.
My knees felt weak without warning, and I had to touch the wall for balance. No one noticed.
“Avery Sinclair,” Jenkins said, and then he whistled quietly, shooting his partner a loaded look. He looked at the kid. “As in ...?”
Avery straightened, seeming a couple of inches taller. “As in Sinclair Airlines. I’mthatSinclair’s son,” he clarified.
His rather arrogant statement changed the demeanor of the two cops. They became tense, guarded ... concerned with the outcome and how it could affect them and their careers.
“And what is the problem here?” Jenkins looked at Avery first, then at me. I shrugged again, but conspicuously checked the time. A few more minutes of this nonsense and I was going to miss my flight.
“There’s no problem,” Avery said between gritted teeth. “I’ll find her, wherever the hell she’s going.”
“Whoa, Mr. Sinclair,” Ramirez intervened. “You didn’t just threaten someone, did you?”
“No. Just stated facts,” he replied. The officer seemed satisfied with his answer.
Jenkins turned toward me. “And you, ma’am? Would you like to file a complaint?”
For a moment, I considered it, just because I wanted to teach this snotty, arrogant asshole a lesson, and because the back of my head was still throbbing in pain. But I couldn’t afford to have the police poking around in my life.
“No. I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding. I don’t know who this young man is or what he wants with me,” I said. “All I know is that I’m about to miss my flight.”
Jenkins nodded. “Have a nice trip, ma’am.”
