Page 8 of Daddy's Stowaway

“Time to confess, princess, what’s going on with you?”

I looked anywhere but at him, wishing to remain hidden. “I don’t know what you mean. Nothing is going on with me.”

The good-natured twinkle disappeared from Alex’s eyes and was replaced with that dark look he had where his amber eyes went almost black.

“You must have missed where I said ‘behave’ and ‘I run the show’ because you aren’t acting like someone who heard me.”

I felt like walls were pressing in on all sides. I didn’t want to tell him that my parents died. That since then my life had been a living hell. That I’d run away from a dealer who had been using me as a local mule. That was the entire point in running away, to leave it all behind. No one had ever asked me what I needed. Well, not since my mother, and that was years ago. The anniversary of my parents’ death was a few weeks away, on my birthday. That was the worst… every birthday was a reminder of what I’d lost.

“I don’t want to talk about it, please. My memories are not pleasant, and something you said reminded me of my mother, and that is a road I don’t wish to go down.”

Alex’s eyes softened, and he took my hand across the table and held it in his. “Antonia, how about I ask questions, and you just answer yes or no? Could you do that for me?”

Was it possible this could get worse? Yes, it was more than likely as I felt the tears threaten to fall and why, because he was kind to me?

“Yes, I think I can do that.” I picked up my coffee cup and took a swig.

“Have both your parents passed?”

“Yes.”

“Were they the Bloom couple who were killed on their way home from a movie, but their only child, a daughter, was spared?”

My eyes grew wide. He’d heard the story? Of course, he had. It was all over the news for quite some time.

“Yes,” I barely got out, as the word caught and theswas the barest of a hiss.

“You went into the foster care system.” Not so much a question now, more a statement.

“No.”

“You were supposed to, but you disappeared, and I suspect it was a total nightmare?”

I could no longer hold back the tears. I had never talked about what went on as I’d learned quickly, you couldn’t trust anyone.

“Yes,” I hissed.

“You are courageous, Antonia, and I know this is difficult for you, so the last question for now… Someone or someones mistreated you, and you are running away from them?”

I felt shredded, like he had just taken me apart and examined my ugly soul.

“Yes.”

He nodded in understanding. “Don’t you worry. You will be well cared for.”

Something deep inside of me yearned for his words to be actual truth, but if life had taught me anything, it was people rarely, if ever, had anyone’s best interests at heart except their own.

Almost as if reading my mind, Alex said, “You don’t have to believe me; I will prove it to you.”

Good as his word, the conversation was dropped, and we perused a dozen more shops while we waited for our next flight. By the time we boarded Air France, I had three more bags for a total of six and prayed they all fit in the overhead bin.

Imagine my surprise when we were led to our own cabin. My eyes popped wide in shock as I looked around, appreciating the expensive touches.

“Wow, this is crazy! I didn’t know people traveled like this.”

“Most people don’t, but I’m not most people.”

I had been curious about what he did as he seemed to have an endless supply of cash on hand.

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