I smiled at him, realizing I would miss him more than I thought. His mentorship meant more to me than he realized. I turned to leave and, just before I stepped out into the hallway, I turned around and said, “Thank you. For everything.”
He nodded his head and went back to his paperwork, but then looked up at me one more time. “You tell them boys if they hurt you, they answer to me.”
I laughed. “Yes, sir.”
On the elevator, I wiped my eyes and fiddled with my clothes. My neck felt naked, like a weight missing. But my heart… it felt a bit freer. A chapter closed, so a new one could open. I wasn’t really sure how things were going to play out—should I head straight to the clubhouse after getting off the plane, or head to my house that wasn’t mine? Speaking of… I grabbed my phone, and called Shelly.
“Are you in Georgia yet?”
“What? No… I’m not The Flash.”
“Slacker. Sounds like a bunch of excuses.”
“Uh-huh. Listen, I need your help.”
“What’s up?”
I explained to her about my house, the one I had mentioned briefly the other night.
“I was kinda fond of the place, to be honest. But it was paid for by the Feds, so I’m not even sure how much the rent is. But between the undercover pay and my savings, I got about a hundred-twenty grand stashed away. If I send you my bank stuff and if the house isn’t more than like two grand a month… could you get that set up for me? Please.”
“Ah, so I get the boring job while you get to go see if you can win your lovers back? You’re lucky I love you. But if I do this, I only ask one thing in return…”
I laughed. “What?”
“Tea—every nitty-gritty detail. Short of recording the conversation, I want to heareverything. And, once the dust is settled, you fly my poor ass out to see you.”
“Deal!”
“Cool beans. Send me the details and I’ll see what I can do.”
“You’re the bomb. Love you.”
“I know. Love you, too.”
I disconnected the call and sent her everything she would need to, hopefully, get the house worked out for me. Then it was time to grab my bags from where I left them with the desk sergeant, and flag down another cab to head for the airport. I bought the tickets on the drive, and began practicing my speech in my head. What was I going to say? Would they hate me? Forgive me? What if it was too fargone? What about Maria and Holly? Shit, did someone get my Triumph? And my stuffed fox?
My thoughts were going ninety miles an hour, and we were at the airport before I knew it.
After getting through security and checking my Colt, I had about an hour before the plane took off. I had planned on just sitting by the window and waiting but, on my way to the gate, I passed one of the little stores. I stopped, eyeing the travel-sized meds. I really hadn’t slept last night and, with my anxiety and adrenaline sky-high, I doubted sleep would come easy. I knew I needed it. I bit my bottom lip, eyeing the Benadryl. “Fuck it,” I swore under my breath.
Benadryl in hand, I went to check out, and the attendant asked, “Is that all?”
I opened my mouth to say yes, but what I actually said was, “I’ll take two of those mini Jim Beams too.” Oops.
I waited until the plane pulled up to the gate, and all the previous passengers had gotten off before tossing back both shots and the Benadryl. Don’t try this at home, kids. An older woman watched me and, when I looked over at her, she gave me a judgmental look and said, “Flying nerves, sweetheart?”
I smiled at her, though it was more like a grimace because the fucking Benadryl had gotten stuck in my throat.
“Something like that,” I croaked.
When it was my turn to board, I hurried onto the plane. At this point, I was just ready to be there. Ready to be somewhere where it was truly too late to turn back before I lost my nerve.
I found my seat between a guy my age and about three times my size, and a teenager who wore an “unaccompanied minor” lanyard around her neck. The guy basically ignored me, intently focused on his bag of chips, and the teen looked up at me with a look of general distaste and popped her gum. Normally, I would be cursing my luck, but right then, I really couldn’t find the time or energy to care. I plopped down between the two of them and pretended Iwas on a beach somewhere. In my fantasy world, the sun was warm and the water was blue, and the men I loved sat by my side. That must be the Jim Beam talking—I was a lightweight when I had an empty stomach. As my eyelids got heavier, I was happy to note that the Benadryl had started to work too. By the time the flight attendants had finished their safety speech, I was out like a light.
“Excuse me. Excuse me. Helloooo! Wake up. I’ve had to pee for like freaking years.”
I rolled my neck and opened a single bleary eye to find that we had landed, and the strange guy had already gone. The kid next to me frowned. “Oh, great. You’re alive. You’ve kept me from peeing this whole time. Could you maybe get off the plane so that, I dunno, I could get off too? And find a bathroom?”
