Page 1 of Feel It in the Air

1

GUS

My whole bodydeflates as I read the notification on my phone.

Flight 3184 to Atlanta Delayed—now departing 7:24

Delayed, again. Because of course it is.

Seven twenty-four. That’s another two fucking hours. Which makes this flight a grand total of four delayed. On top of the flight that was just flat-out canceled. At this rate, I’m never making it out of JFK airport.

Thunder claps loudly, drowning out the din of airport chaos for a second, reminding me and the thousands of my newest friends who are stranded here with me why we’re in this situation. Damn weather.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for safety first. Always. That’s a great rule to live by. I’d much rather be down here on the ground than up in some tin can given all this nastiness in the skies. I don’t care how well-trained these pilots are; we don’t need to test those skills. That doesn’t change the fact that I should be home by now. Should have been home hours ago. I’m more than a little restless, overtired, and ready for my own bed.

Not to mention, I left my newest employee stranded at the Atlanta airport. A fact that my sister is not going to let me live down. Even if it was out of my control.

I need a drink.

Pushing up from the small, cramped seat at my gate, I shove my phone in my pocket, trying my best not to disturb the people around me. We’re crammed in like sardines into this little area, all of us overly anxious to get the hell out of here. All the more reason I need some space. And a drink.

“Do you want me to save your seat? Or watch your things?”

I turn around, my eyes landing on a woman old enough to be my grandmother dressed in her Sunday best—pearls and all—looking up at me expectantly. I can tell by her accent that the flight to Atlanta is taking her home, and my insides soften a little toward her.

“No ma’am, I’m probably gonna be a bit. Need to stretch my legs.”

She nods solemnly, then places her purse in the spot I just occupied. “That’s fair. I might just tell people I’m holdin’ it for you anyway.”

I chuckle, liking the way she thinks. I give her another nod, then turn to go, in search of something to take the edge off. And maybe some food. I haven’t eaten since…well, now that I think about it, since breakfast. So we can add hangry to the list of negative emotions I’m experiencing.

If I remember correctly, there was a brewery down closer to my original gate, so I push through the crowd, heading back toward gate B44. Thunder claps again and someone behind me yelps, as if the storm raging outside somehow caught her off guard. I can’t help but roll my eyes, using that as motivation to walk faster. That is, until I feel the vibration against my leg and I’m suddenly filled with dread.

I reach for my phone, silently praying it’s not another notification from the airline. I know the weather isn’t their fault, that this falls into the act of God territory, but so help me, if this is another notification about a delay, or another cancelation, I will lose it. And I’m pretty sure that a jury of my peers won’t convict me. They will absolutely understand that my actions—whatever they end up being—were justifiable.

“I have never been so happy to see your name on my phone,” I answer, dodging a small child not watching where they are wheeling their backpack.

“Not sure how to take that,” my brother Huxley replies. Smack dab center in the lineup of seven kids, Hux is your stereotypical middle child—stubborn, non-conforming, and complicated—even if he's a little rough around the edges sometimes.

“Just that you’re not a notification telling me my flight is canceled. Unless that’s what you’re calling to tell me.”

“Nope, was calling to let you know I fixed the paper press so we don’t need to order a new one. You’re welcome.”

I stop, relief washing over me. No, not relief—it’s more than that. Complete and utter joy. Forget the bad travel day; that’s the best news I’ve heard in a long time.

“Seriously? How?”

“It’s long and complicated. You really wanna know?”

“No,” I tell him.

Because I don’t. Not only because I don’t care, but because I won’t understand. That’s what I have him for. Him and the rest of my siblings. Without them, there is no Hayes Industries, the Fortune 500 company that our family owns and operates out of our small Georgia town of Hickory Hills. Our father is still president and CEO, but I recently took on the title of executive vice president, with the plan that Auggie will soon be retiring and handing it all over to me.

Hence why I got to make this trip to New York solo to meet with customers and vendors for our guns and ammo division—the division I also still oversee until we can get someone to backfill the position—and am now stuck in this airport.

“Didn’t think so. Just be happy I saved you all that money.”

“Thrilled. Not spending thousands on your sorry outfit is making my day.”