Page 22 of Felonies are Forever

“How the hell should I know? I don’t care where she’s gone.” He’s acting tough, but he still steps back when I move toward him and his voice goes up a notch. “Look, she got a courier delivery, said she had to leave and I said don’t come back.”

“Going where?” I snarl, my eyes going from the poor, scared-shitless receptionist to the asshole who’s heading down a road he does not want to find the end of.

“She didn’t say.” The receptionist’s eyes are pleading, and I almost feel sorry for her. But not for him.

“I told you. Envelope. Gone to the airport. That’s it. Now get the hell out of here before I call…”

I don’t hear the end of his sentence because my ears are ringing. I’m already turning, heading away from them, back to my bike. The airport. Where the fuck is she going?

“Sir.”Some TSA supervisor is giving me yet another warning to step back or I’m going to end up spending a few nights in some airport pseudo-jail. “We’ve been over this. You need to exit the airport and be on your way.”

The other four of his comrades flank me. My head is pounding. Fists at my sides.

I’ve been here almost two hours. This is my third run-in with the TSA and they are done playing with my ass. Sure, I’ve spent nights in worse places, but this isn’t going to help, so I tell myself to calm the fuck down and make a tactical retreat.

I spin on my heel and head out the doors into the warm night air. It’s a stunning evening for October. The cool met with a breeze that hints of the warmth of the summer still. The smell of airplane fuel and cigarette smoke don’t for a second dim the memory of her scent.

Her flavor lingers on my lips and for a split second, I wonder if she was just a dream.

ELEVEN

CEE CEE

It’s been almosta month back in Jamaica, tending to my father. He is doing better but I’m doing worse. Much worse.

Horrible in fact.

The letter I received at Dr. Stinson’s that night was from my dad, informing me that my mother had passed away. Just like that. No details. No emotion. Just a plane reservation for me to depart immediately and return home. I could have thrown it away, but it felt like the universe was speaking to me.

After that night with Thorne, the way I fell so quickly, made so many mistakes, then found out more about who he really was…I felt stupid, and I felt like history was repeating itself. It just made sense that I should go back home this time, back to where it all began. I think I scared myself straight onto that plane.

When I held out my boarding pass with my forged state I.D. to the TSA agent, I thought I was going to pass out. Lucky for me, he must have been having a good day because he actually smiled at me and told me to have a good flight.

I felt bad about leaving without a word. To Thorne but also Mrs. Takashima. It’s cowardly but when I get scared I just run.

But then on the flight I kept thinking maybe I’d made another huge mistake. I mean, for all that, Thorne had treated me right. My head was all over the place, so I figured I would come down here, work through the painful history I had with my dad and go back and face Thorne with a clear head. Ask the right questions. Be an adult. Maybe let the gravity of what happened pass. See him clearly without the lust mist that fogged every reasonable thought process that night.

Well, that was the plan, but it didn’t happen.

My father’s been confined to a wheelchair for many years. He’s in the advanced stages of liver disease and now his kidneys are failing as well. Doesn’t keep him from drinking mind you. You’d think livers were a replaceable organ the way he acts.

He said, when mom passed away after a massive stroke, he wanted me home. After all these years that little girl inside of me still craved what he had never given me, so I caved to my father’s request, thinking I would rejoin the family and absolve myself of my past sins.

But, absolution did not come.

I think of him every day. Every hour still. Every micro-second is entwined with him. Thorne. And there’s something else, too.

I’m pregnant.

Of course.

I must have been the Goddess of Fertility in a former life.

My homecoming, family bonding fantasy is an epic fucking fail. Telling my father, yet again, that his daughter is knocked up by someone she barely knows will surely have me back out the door.

This morning, my father sent me back to the doctor for some follow up bloodwork. Said they found something the needed to double check. I didn’t want to go, it’s all just a little creepy, butit beats sitting alone in that huge house waiting for my father to summon me to his one of his two chambers for to fill some whim or need. Now, there is a lump in my throat that cannot be dislodged.

I’m not sure what all the doctor appointments are about; my dad just keeps telling me he wants to be sure I’m healthy now that I’m back home. I know they will find out I’m pregnant and then I have no idea what will happen to me.

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