Page 1 of Absolution

Chapter One

Jackie ~January 2012

“Come on,” the guy in front of me says. “There has to be something.” He’s practically begging the gate agent at this point.

I can tell the woman behind the counter is doing her best to stay polite. Her smile is tight. Exhausted. Probably on her third shift. “Sir,” she says, carefully, “your flight to Austin was cancelled due to weather. The next available one is in thirty-six hours.”

“I start my new job Monday morning,” he groans. “I’ll never make it.”

She shrugs, sympathy straining through exhaustion. “You could try Union Station. The Texas Eagle hasn’t left yet. You might be able to catch it.”

“Only option left’s the two-person bedroom,” he mutters. “And I’ve already maxed out my credit card to book this flight whichyoucancelled.”

He looks so done I almost feel bad for him. Almost.

Before I can overthink it, I say, “I’ll split it with you.”

He turns, sharp. “What?”

“I need to get to Austin too. I’ll split the cost. And the seat.”

“It’s a bedroom.”

“Which has two seats.” I shrug.

He just stares.

“The train’s not gonna wait for us,” I say. “Let’s go before I change my mind.”

The gate agent gives me a look halfway between gratitude and concern, like I’m either her personal hero or a walking liability. Fair. I might be both.

I turn and walk away leaving him to follow. As we head toward the cab stand, he finally speaks. “Kyle.”

He’s tall. Like, noticeably taller than my 5'5". A long-legged giant who somehow looks both polished and sleep-deprived.

“Jackie,” I say.

“So… do you often run off with total strangers?”

I give him a look that says ‘Buddy, I just saved your ass.’ But what I actually say is, “I’ve got no interest in sleeping on airport carpet either. Besides, I’ve got some pent-up aggression. Wouldn’t mind taking it out on someone.”

He looks alarmed.

I laugh. “Relax. I’m kidding. Mostly.”

We get in a cab to Union Station. While he’s chatting with the driver, I call Amtrak. He’s right, only the two-person sleeper is left. I cringe at the price and agree to pay half. It’s either that or get stuck here in snowstorm hell.

Kyle doesn’t say much, but I catch him glancing at me now and then, like he’s trying to figure me out. I don’t blame him. My parents will kill me if they find out what I’m doing.

“So,” I say, settling down on the little sofa across from him, “This is it”

Thebedroomon the train sounds fancier than it looks.

There’s one narrow couch on my side, and a slightly wider seat on his. Between us, there’s a tiny table barely big enough for two coffee cups. A mirror hangs on the wall, and there’s a sliding door that can close us in or trap us, depending on how this goes.

Above us, a bunk folds down from the ceiling. Apparently at night the seats convert into a bed, and the upper bunk drops down like a surprise guest. Everything's compact, tucked in like a dollhouse version of a hotel room. There’s even a tiny private toilet and a sink in the corner, curtained off awkwardly.

It smells like trains do, metal and cleaner and something vaguely sour. But it’s warm. And it’s not an airport floor.

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