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“Ma’am.”
I got out. He gave me a polite nod. “If you’ll follow me?” He pointed to a room. “I’m told you can wait in there for the rest of the passengers.”
“Who are the rest?”
His face shuttered closed. “They’ll be along shortly.”
Um… Okay?
I stepped inside a cozy waiting room with couches and chairs. There was a table in the corner and a whole bar/coffee setup on the other end. I was too wired to sit, so I moved to the window and watched.
That’s when my bladder reminded me I hadn’t gone to the bathroom before leaving Jonah’s family’s very, very secure estate, and who knew how long ago that was.
There were two doors in the back.
I opened one, and it was a bathroom.
I went in, peed, and for a moment—a brief moment—I wanted to stay there.
I wanted to hide.
I wanted to wake up, come out of this nightmare, and find I hadn’t been kidnapped, hadn’t had sex with a guy who was using me, and hadn’t started to fall for him. I wanted a world where my sister hadn’t been set up by someone who also sent me an app.
Milo.
I hadn’t even considered her after everything happened.
They had her phone. I didn’t think she would send me a virus to download. That meant it hadn’t been her texting me at all. But I hadn’t put two and two together. I hadn’t shared that with Jonah. My phone went wonky, and they lit it on fire, and then I was in the vehicle, being driven away for my safety.
Panic collapsed my lungs. My chest felt like it was caving in on itself. I wanted to claw at it, open it up so I could breathe—but that was anxiety.
Fear.
I was having a panic attack.
I knew this.
I hadn’t had one of these since I was a child. I felt the world trying to collapse on me, and I couldn’t do anything except let it. I tried to use reason to remove myself from the panic. Sometimes that helped.
This will pass.
Eventually.
Reason and logic will come back. The world isn’t actually ending.
I’ll be just fine.
I’m here, in a private airport waiting room bathroom, and everything is fine.
Everyone will be fine.
Jonah’s family weren’t pushovers. They could fight—Jonah! He’d shoved me into the vehicle, but where was he? Was he safe?
Wait.
I needed to think logically about this. He had to be fine. There was a whole other vehicle there, other guards there. He was part of their family. There was no way he wouldn’t be safe. His family loved him. They would do anything to keep him safe.
Nonetheless, the rational sentiments weren’t working.
The panic continued to rise.
I washed my hands and went back outside. I sank down into the nearest chair, put my head between my knees, and took a breath. I counted down from five.
Four.
Three.
Two.
One.
Breathe out.
Five.
Four.
Three.
Two.
One.
Breathe in.
I kept going.
Holding for five.
Releasing for five.
I lost count, but I was still doing the breathing exercises when there was a commotion.
Bang, bang.
That sounded like fireworks.
That was weird, but breathe in.
And five, four, three—fireworks.
This is an airport.
There wouldn’t be fireworks here.
I lifted my head, stood, and turned toward the window.
I saw the backside of someone running out of the hangar.
What? I ran for the door and started across the hangar toward the opening.
Someone else came around the corner from the opposite side.
I faltered, thinking he was a guard. He’d come back to check on me.
But wait…
He was tall, with broad shoulders and a thick gut—not overweight, just muscle. He was built like a box.
He was moving with purpose.
He wore a business suit.
He saw me…
He kept coming.
There was no emotion on his face.
No remorse.
No shock.
No sadness.
Nothing.
He was nothing.
He reached into his suit jacket…
I started to move backward.
My gut was slow on the uptake, but my feet weren’t.
I began running…
I looked back over my shoulder.
He pulled out a gun.
Still, there was nothing on his face.
Just knowing. Recognition.
He knew who I was.
I had no idea who he was.
I ran faster.
I couldn’t get there fast enough. I knew that much.
Still, I tried.
I had to try.
“Stop!” he yelled.
I did.
I stopped.
Why?
I should keep going.
Fear pulsed through me.
My blood was pumping. The sound became deafening, drowning out everything else.
That was shock. Shock and fear.
But I turned to look at him. I didn’t know why. Maybe I needed to see who was about to kill me? Was that it?
I turned, my chest heaving, and I felt something trickling down my leg.
I looked down. I’d just gone to the bathroom…
When I looked up, he was coming closer.
There was nowhere to run.
There was no escape.
This was it.
I held my hands up, as if that could do something.
A bullet would go through my hands, ripping my skin.
I knew the trajectory it would take.
I knew the damage it would make.
I was the one who cleaned that up on others. Other bodies.
That was my job.
