Page 17 of Never Enough

He shoved back from the table and turned to his brother. “Find. Her. Now.” He stalked to the door, giving a sharp whistle for Scheherazade to follow him. “I’ll be in the gym to keep from killing someone.” The door slammed behind the man and dog.

6

SEPTEMBER 9, 2022

Haskell

Her cap pulled firmly over her head, Haskell did her best to meld into the crowd of people at LAX, deplaning and spilling out into the terminal. Head on a swivel, she hovered in the middle of the large group heading to the baggage carousels. She didn’t have anything other than her backpack, but if someone was here looking for her, they would likely know she was traveling light and be watching the main exits for her. By pretending to have a bag to collect, she’d hopefully be going in the complete opposite direction.

“Hopefully” being the key word.

When the throng of people arrived at baggage claim, she hunched farther into her jacket, then went to stand at a carousel like any other passenger waiting impatiently for their bags. While waiting for the conveyors to start moving, sheslipped a phone out of her pocket and turned it on. As it booted up, she scanned the people around her through her eyelashes. No one seemed out of place. She didn’t think she was being followed, but the last six weeks had been stressful. Combined with almost getting caught in the midst of an illegal mining operation, fleeing for her life was not high on her list of things to try again. She’d had to go about things the long way to make sure she got here in one piece. Hopefully, her ride was ready to come pick her up.

Child, there’s that word again. What did I teach you? You put too much faith in luck, girl. Keep it all at skill, not chance.

Glancing down at her phone, the home screen notifications showed a text from someone named “C.”

C:Be there in approximately twenty-three minutes. Red MINI Cooper coming in hot. Be ready to jump in.

H:On my way.

Looking up, Haskell scanned the signs above her head to find the one for the nearest ladies’ room. Finding it about two hundred fifty feet on her left, she made a show of looking at her watch, glanced at the digital display that said luggage was “pending,” heaved a fake sigh, and then hitched her backpack higher on her shoulder and headed to the restroom.

Once inside, she had to wait for a stall to open up. After three minutes, she was finally able to step inside, lock the door, and change. Timing was everything.

She moved quickly and efficiently. With her backpack on the hook of the door, she began pulling items out and putting them on the shelf and door hanger. Her first step was to remove a square magnetic mirror and attach it to the door behind the shelf.

The metamorphosis began. She removed the Uma ThurmanPulp Fiction-style wig, revealing her real hair, a mop of Shirley Temple curls. A wet wipe was used to remove the black kohl around her eyes, the black eyebrow liner and mascara, and the ruby red lipstick. With her fresh face, she appeared younger than her twenty-four years.

Jacket and hat off. Full-length purple leggings were pulled off to reveal a pair of black capri-style leggings underneath. A two-sizes-too-large hoodie was removed to reveal a plain white ribbed tank top. Black sneakers were traded for dollar store flip-flops. A Kesha T-shirt with a ripped-out neck yanked down over her top half. Denim miniskirt with frayed edges pulled over the leggings.

The last step was to unfold the paper grocery bag that blazoned an airport restaurant on its face. Quickly, she shoved all of the clothes she had been wearing into the bag. Earbuds were plugged into her phone, and the buds themselves pushed into her ears, although there was no music playing. She zipped up her backpack, shouldered it, and exited the stall. Glancing around, she saw no one she recognized from when she first came into the bathroom. She washed her hands, dried them with paper towels, and exited the restroom at a leisurely pace.

She turned back the way she had come, went up the escalator, and made her way to the next common area and terminal entrances, where she dumped the bag in the garbage. She took the escalator down to the new baggage claim area and exited out the door marked Taxi/Rideshare. As she stepped to the curb, a red MINI Cooper swung in. Haskell opened the passenger-side door, slid into the front seat, and the car was already whipping out into traffic before she could put her backpack on the floor between her feet or put on her seatbelt.

“Were you followed?” the driver asked.

“I don’t think so,” Haskell replied.

The red-haired woman behind the wheel of the car didn’t speak further as she zipped in and out of traffic like a professional. She wasn’t doing more than fifteen over the speed limit, which seemed to be the speed of the traffic as a whole, but her eyes were constantly traveling her mirrors like she expected trouble at any moment. Perfectly coiffed and looking every inch a businesswoman, she also somehow screamed “badass.” Long, fire-engine-red hair, diamond studs in her ears, and a professional quality makeup job. Designer navy-blue suit jacket, matching skirt that hit just at the knee, and white silk blouse. Stockings so sheer they had to be real silk, and Louboutins on her feet. A gold ladies’ Rolex.

Cherry whipped across two lanes of traffic and exited the freeway. Only then did she seem to relax. “Okay. We should be good.” She exhaled and turned briefly to look Haskell in the face, a genuine smile on her face. “Flight okay?”

Haskell grabbed the “Oh-shit” handle as Cherry slid between two semis with barely inches to spare, front and back. “Better than your driving. But I’m here, so happy to be alive. At least for now,” she grumbled as they flew over another lane to the right.

“Hungry?”

“Yes.”

“Great, because I am starving from the adrenaline rush. We’ll stop and have an éclair with tea, and we’ll figure out what to do next. The guys have no clue I’m here, so we should be able to keep your presence quiet.” Cherry pulled into a coveted parking space along the café’s sidewalk just as a delivery driver pulled away. She threw the car in park and pulled her keys out of the ignition. Head turned Haskell’s way, she asked, “Is that still what you want? You don’t want to see?—”

“No!” Haskell closed her eyes and attempted to collect herself. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to yell. No, I don’t want to seehim. I just need a night or two to rest, reassess, and get in touch with Mythos. Then I’ll be on my way, and no one will be the wiser.”

“If you’re sure…” Cherry faded off. “He’d love to see you.” She added quietly, “He misses you.”

Haskell rolled her eyes. “I’m good, Cherry. I have work to do. He’s filling the void just fine, and it would just be a distraction.”

“You know they mean nothing to him, right?” the redhead asked.

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