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“Here, thanks a lot,” I blurted, shoving a wad of cash at him. I swung the bag over my shoulder as I rushed out the door.
“Oh, shit, thanks, Miss. Hope you catch your flight,” he called after me, the shuffling of bills audible along with his words as I closed the door behind me. I dashed to the entrance, weaving through the droves of passengers taking their time as they meandered through the hall. Their eyes were glued to the screen, searching for their gate as they mindlessly trod along, not bothering to look where they were going.
I already knew where I was going, having mapped out this route countless times in preparation for this moment. Thankfully my flight didn’t leave for another two hours, giving me plenty of time to make it to my gate. I wouldn’t feel secure until I made it past security. Only a few passengers were ahead of me as they tossed their suitcases onto the conveyor belt. I weaved my way through the queue, and by the time I made it to the front, the last few passengers got their boarding passes and shuffled off to the security check.
“Next,” the lady drawled in a bored tone, her manicured red nails tapping impatiently on the desk. “Olivia Rothchild,” she murmured, reading out the fake name I’d made up for the forged passport. Lifting it, she checked the picture against my face and undoubtedly the security features. My stomach churned with anxiety, my face paling, but I pushed it down, willing my face not to let any of that show. I couldn’t get this far just to mess up at the counter.
To my relief, she continued on, typing away at her computer as she checked me in. “What’s your destination?” she asked, her tone betraying her fatigue as it most likely was nearing the end of her shift. With only two hours before departure, most of the passengers would have already made it through to the gate.
“Vancouver, British Columbia,” I answered, and she nodded, ensuring I was about to get on the right flight before she printed off the boarding pass.
“Anything to check?” I shook my head in response. His family owned a house in The Hamptons and we kept some summer clothes and toiletries there. So the only bag I took with me was a carry-on that wouldn’t need to be checked. I didn’t have time to collect luggage, let alone pack it in the first place. That would have raised his suspicions before I even left.
Vancouver was only the first stop for me, I had to keep moving and a direct flight would be too easy to catch me. I’d considered flying to Toronto, but it was too close. He could have men there in a matter of hours if he found out too soon. No, the other side of Canada would be my first stop.
“Go to security gate C,” she instructed, shoving my passport back at me, the boarding pass tucked inside. My lips parted, about to say thank you, but she cut me off with a curt, “Next.”
I fumbled around for my phone and turned it off as I moved to the side, not wanting to endure the wrath of the impatient airport lady. I’d need to dispose of it when I landed. With the number of cameras here at the airport, it would look suspicious if I threw it in the trash. Perhaps I could leave it under my seat and pretend I’d dropped it if anyone decided to be a good Samaritan today. But first, I needed to get through security.
I could get whatever I needed when I landed or when I arrived in the next city. I couldn’t risk being caught, because if he found me, I had nothing else for him to take, and no one else’s safety to threaten or hold over my head. Which was why Sophia had to stay here and not give him any reason to be reckless and go after her. I had no doubt in my mind he’d make me suffer this time, maybe even kill me if I was lucky. At least then I would escape his clutches for good.
I strode over to the security gate the clerk directed me toward, my steps confident and sure despite the emotions raging inside me. Nausea bubbled up in my stomach and I urged it away, needing to do this first, then I could hurl my guts out once I was past this point. He was driving up to The Hamptons later with a few business associates and stopping for dinner on the way. That made today the perfect day for this as normally he would be here with me, holding my hand each step of the way. The picture-perfect supportive partner, when in reality it was his own insecurities that made him clench my hand so hard the bones rubbed together.
“Passport and boarding pass,” the airport security demanded, jolting me from my thoughts. I gave him a polite smile, handing over my documents. My anxiety eased a fraction at how close I was. He couldn’t do anything, not here, not with all the guards, police, and cameras. They would be on him as quickly as I could scream.
My lips trembled as I attempted to hold my smile while the guard scanned the boarding pass. But it must’ve looked more like a grimace judging by the look he gave me. My chest tightened as cold tendrils of fear skittered up my spine, my anxiety spiking until he handed the paperwork back and my bag went through the scanner. A guard on the other side of the metal detectors waved me through. Following her direction, I moved through the barrier, my fingernails digging into the soft flesh of my palms as I attempted to keep myself calm. This was it; my freedom was mere steps away. I passed through and a wave of relief washed over me when she nodded, gesturing to my baggage already waiting for me on the other side of the scanner.
I made it, I actually made it. A sob racked my chest as I collected my carry-on, and I forced myself to take a deep breath to keep the tears at bay. This might’ve been the first step, but it was the most important. He couldn’t do anything to me, not here. Now I just needed to focus on staying ahead of him. As soon as I landed in Vancouver, I’d be getting on a cruise to Alaska. I couldn’t take another plane right away. That would be the obvious choice and way too easy to track.
I turned to exit the security area, the tension in my chest easing with each footstep toward the bustling concourse, filled with shops and restaurants. Excited travelers spoke animatedly about their upcoming trips as they picked through the duty-free shop, the normalcy helping to ease away the anxiety. Just a few more steps until I could join them, immerse myself in the real world, and finally breathe again. The weight of this world, of him, eased inch by inch.
“Miss?” That one word cut through me like a knife, the male voice echoing in my ear like the final toll of a bell signaling my execution. The warm comforting relief that had rushed over me just seconds before was replaced with the cold press of fear stiffening my muscles. I turned to see who spoke, and a uniformed man closed in beside me. Fuckity fuck, fuck. Had I forgotten something maybe?
“Yes, sir, how can I help you?” I asked in the sweetest, most innocent voice I could muster. Was there an issue with the passport? No, I was assured this was authentic, that the paper trail was already in place. Everything should look legit. Besides, they would’ve said something before, they wouldn’t have risked me getting past security, right?
“I need you to come with me,” he instructed, his hands flexing at his side. The movement drew my gaze lower, and I caught sight of exactly what he was readying to grab … the Glock holstered at his hip. What the hell? This couldn’t be possible, this had to be a nightmare. I was so close I could taste the clean, ocean air already. I glanced back at the shop, the travelers milling about, completely oblivious to the woman just feet from them, the woman whose freedom was about to be snatched away from her, just when it was finally within arm’s reach.
Another armed guard stepped before me, his wide chest blocking off my view of the airport beyond. The flicker of hope I’d desperately clung to for so long had begun to burn anew. But this towering man blocked out even the overhead halogen lights, casting a dark shadow on me and extinguishing any chance I had at escaping.
“Of course,” I murmured, my head drooping slightly as they moved behind me and guided me to the metal door with the word Security emblazoned across the front. My hands shook as panic set in, the tremors running all the way to my feet. My small heels clicked against the hard floors more than necessary as I fought to control my stride. If I was about to have my last hope at a normal life taken away from me, I would walk toward my inevitable doom with dignity, with my head held high. I wouldn’t let him take that from me, not like he’d taken everything else.
The guards swiped a card to allow us to pass, the door hinges squeaking as it swung inward. They began to close the door behind us as they ushered me into the narrow hallway with numbered doors lining each side. I glanced back just as the door shut, darkness pressing in on me, the muted lights of the hall barely able to illuminate the way. I blinked against the sudden change as they pushed me along, no longer worrying about optics now that I was behind this closed door with no one about to speak out or record their manhandling. An involuntary whimper escaped my lips as they roughly grabbed my arms, panic sending my heartbeat into a rapid thumping. My mouth dried as I felt my pulse in my tongue, and I sucked in a dry breath, the inhale scratching against my throat.
One of the guards let out a chuckle, apparently taking pleasure in my panic attack.Who knows if these men even work for the airport?I really wouldn’t be surprised if they worked forhim, even if I didn’t recognize them.
The hallway seemed to go on forever, my mind fogging over as my stomach churned, attempting to block out my reality, becoming numb to what was about to happen. It took more effort than normal, especially since I’d just tasted freedom. It was still so close, yet so far now, like a distant memory.
“Get in,” the first guard ordered, pushing me to a door. I numbly realized we’d stopped, unsure how long we’d been standing there before I noticed. I anticipated what the guards were about to do seconds before he pushed me once more, barely getting my hands up in time to stop myself from colliding with the steel door. Their chuckles echoed in the silent hallway, and I darted a wary glance, the lingering shreds of hope decimated by the fact that no one else stood in the hall, no one to stop them, no one to save me.
But I should have been used to that. This world is so singularly focused, not many would lift a finger to help someone else. They’d rather record it to put online, profiting off the views it generated as it went viral. Countless people had seen me drowning, had seen the life flickering out from my eyes, dimming more and more each year and they never bothered to help. Even people that called me their friend feigned ignorance to my suffering.
“Useless,” the guard grumbled, reaching for the door handle and pushing it open, stealing those precious seconds from me. I swore to myself I wouldn’t forget these two as I stumbled forward, just catching myself before I was splayed on the hard linoleum floor. I’d repay their cruelty tenfold if I ever met them again.
The click of the door startled me from the dark thoughts swirling through my mind, bringing me back to reality. The bright lights shone overhead, such a cruel joke that this room where my world was about to crash and burn would be this bright. It was like the fates were laughing at my broken, bruised body as they landed blow after blow, stomping me into the earth for daring to dream. No, my world was one of nightmares.
I squeezed my eyes shut, opening and closing them as I tried to fight off the wave of dizziness that settled over me when my eyes locked on a pair of freshly polished, dark-brown Italian loafers. Adrenaline rushed through my veins at that sight, giving me the strength to fight off the near faint my body almost fell into, and I stumbled back.
The cool press of the metal door seeped into my bones as my back collided with it, wishing I could dematerialize and sink through it back to the hallway. Give me the asshole guards over this man any day.
