Page 8 of Jude

I stood alone in the middle of the terminal, my feet frozen.

My heart was racing as I stared down at the card, hesitating.

My phone buzzed three times in a row in my pocket.

It was Dario, and the messages were now vastly different in tone from his former Instagram pitches.

Dario: Get to the counter this second. Luisa needs the ticket too, but her face is known to the authorities. Move your ass, or I’ll have my friends in Italy visit your cousin Anya in Calabria!

How did he know where I was?

I glanced up, and in the distance, half-hidden from me, I spied Luisa peering around the corner of the ladies’ bathroom.

She held her mobile device in her hand and raised it as a warning.

She had Dario on the phone with her while she tracked my movements?

I stared back at my screen, my heart thumping hard.

Dario’s message sounded angry and desperate, threatening not only me but also Anya.

I closed my eyes for a second and sent a prayer to the heavens.

I’m no saint, and I’ve made a complete mess of my life, but please don’t leave me abandoned in this place.

I made it to the Delta counter and took my place behind three others.

The line moved up, and the woman behind the desk gazed at me.

She was blonde, her straw-colored hair pinned into a severe bun that pulled at the corners of her eyes.

Her Delta navy blazer pulled across her shoulders, accented by a gold scarf knotted at her throat.

Thick matte foundation caked her face, ending in a line at her jaw and leaving her neck pale.

Dark pencil formed her arched eyebrows, while coral gloss coated her lips.

Her nostrils flared as her gaze scanned my scuffed boots and faded denim, giving my clothes the stink eye before she glanced at the card in my hand.

‘Can I help you?’

I sliced my eyes to where Luisa last stood and found no one in sight.

Damn, I was alone.

‘Girlie, you booking a flight?’

I canted my gaze back to the woman at the counter.

Her name tag said Denise.

I extended the credit card, my hand shaking so hard I almost dropped it onto the counter.

I cleared my throat, hoping the English I had practiced for years now held up.

‘Yes, Denise. Two economy class tickets to New York, please.’

Chapter 3