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Resting my cat carrier on the trolley, I stroke Pirate through the cage as he purrs against my hand. He’s a good traveler, thank God. There was no way on earth I was going anywhere without him.
When my luggage finally finds its way onto the conveyor belt, I screw my nose up as I see one battered end of my Gucci suitcase. Fuckfaces.
I should’ve just brought my cheap luggage, knowing that airlines are notorious for wrecking people’s shit. I lug the case onto the trolley I just paid five dollars for and wait for the rest. I didn’t exactly pack light and now I’m wincing at the fact that most of my luggage probably looks demented and unrepairable.
My father does have his own plane, but it’s currently in transit, something he was annoyed about. I assured him I’d be fine flying commercial. Nobody knows I’m going and my driver took several wrong turns to ensure nobody was following us. Maybe my dad needs to keep him on board.
I pull my phone out while I wait for the carousel to chug along.
Tara
How are you? I miss you already x
I smile, replying quickly.
Me
Just landed. Tired. Hungry. My luggage looks like it went three rounds with Mike Tyson, but other than that I’m good. Miss u too x
The gray bubble appears as I glance up at the conveyor belt. It’s beeping loudly, indicating something’s gone wrong… That’s all I damn well need. More delays.
Tara
Why can’t you tell me where you are? It’s not fair. I’m not going to tell anyone
I’ve thought about this a lot, and I know I will cave eventually because I can’t hide things from my best friend. But I worry that someone will use her as a target, and the less she knows the better.
Me
I know, but dad is really worried. He doesn’t want to implicate anyone close to me for their safety, babe. We talked about this
The bubble appears again, and I start to get a pain throbbing in my temples. She’s overprotective, a lot like dad, and isn’t afraid to tell me.
Tara
What if something happens and I can’t be there?
I smile to myself. Sometimes I feel like my best friend is really the only friend I have in the world and certainly the only one that understands me. She means well.
Me
Stop worrying. I’m fine
My dad knows some pretty shady people. He still hasn’t given me all the details and I’m not as dumb as he thinks I am. I know that he isn’t telling me everything, like what was in the dressing room and how someone got in there. I know that this time the threats were real.
Real enough to send me to some stinking, low-down, motorcycle club where they probably have stripper poles and the men drink shots off women’s asses.
I cringe at the idea.
Thank God my dad got this apartment. At least I won’t have to live in and amongst that kind of caper in the clubhouse, not that I would have agreed to it.
Sharing my space with dirty bikers is where I draw the line. I hope at least one of them is cute…
One of my suitcases sails past, and I lunge after it, missing it. I stumble and almost trip over the damn trolley.
Two strong hands grab me by the shoulders, preventing my fall, and as I turn to thank whoever it was, he’s already yanking my suitcase off the carousel.
My eyes go wide when I see his back. A black, leather motorcycle jacket with NOLA REBELS MC and a huge emblem of a skull and crossbones greets me.
