Page 58 of Slow Burn (The Boston Beauties)

He walked me through packing a few things, including the red wig, brown contacts, and glasses to wear through customs and into the hospital. Next, he told me what to turn off in the apartment. When I was all done, he texted Breton and a car service was ordered for me.

It was an hours drive to the Luton airport from where we lived. I was quickely escorted on to a jet owned by a French company and aside from being served some food, was left on my own to try and sleep for the flight. It was harder than normal, for one, I was worrying over my father so much, praying that he was going to pull through. He was too young to die and my mother and I need him. Secondly, I was stressing bout being back in Boston and potentially being caught, making everything Breton and I had done almost worthless. And finally, trying to sleep with a wig and contacts wasn’t exactly comfortable. But seeing as I was surrounded by an aircrew I knew nothing about, I needed to maintain my disguise as part of my role. If I wanted to be with my family, I needed to be in disguise.

I had been surprised when the captain told me we weren’t going to Boston, but Providence instead. For my security, it actually made sense to land in a different state and drive the short distance to the city I called home my entire life until I set out on my journey of self-discovery. A journey I was now questioning; had I never left, perhaps my father wouldn’t be under so much stress, perhaps he wouldn't have had the heart attack

While only lasting about twenty minutes, the descent felt excruciatingly long. I knew that I would soon be in the safety of Drew’s arms and after that to see my parents, who I’d missed terribly over the past year and a bit. I was anxious for any update of my dad and hadn’t been able to think of much else except him over the past few hours. He had still been in surgery when I boarded the plane and I’d had no other updates since.

I had my shoes on, checked my wig, sunglasses perched on my head, was already wearing my jacket and had both my purse and bookbag in my lap while my carry-on was on the seat next to me. I couldn’t wait to get off this plane and the door of the plane wasn’t even open yet. To say I was eager was a bit of an understatement.

The flight had been long, feeling much longer than the 7 hours of flying time that I had done repeatedly with my family over the years.

It was 9 in the morning Boston time. I had managed to get some sleep on the plane and felt as rested as I could be given the circumstances, but I was anxious. Anxious that bad news of my dad awaited me, anxious to see Drew and my parents. Anxious to run into anyone I shouldn’t and anxious that I would be found out by someone and end up in jail.

I could really go for a Xanax right about now.

The flight attendant couldn’t get the door open and the stairs unfolded fast enough in my opinion. ‘Thank you,’ she looked to me. ‘Have a great day, enjoy Providence, Miss Khan.’

I nodded, ‘Thanks for your hospitality.’

I didn’t even stay on long enough to thank the captains, the fewer interactions with people the better. I walked across the tarmac to where I saw a man in a fluorescent yellow vest holding open a door for me, which I assumed led into the arrivals terminal.

‘Just follow the hallway, through the double doors, and you will come out to arrivals,’ the young man told me and I nodded, holding on to my wig, as it was a bit windy.

I hurried along the corridor, looking down so not to show my full face to the cameras, however, I was pretty sure Breton had already hacked into the system to prevent my image from ever showing up.

When the automatic doors opened, I stepped out from the secure area of the airport into the open, finally back in America. Looking around I saw Drew, watching another set of doors, looking eager every time the door opened and agitated when it wasn’t me he saw exiting. I walked towards him, stopping when I was about ten feet away. Sensing our connection, we’d had since the day we first met, he turned to look at me.

‘Je…’ he stopped himself from saying my name but rushed towards me. ‘Cupcake,’ he took a few quick long steps towards me and picked me up in his arms, then pulled away just enough to kiss me.

‘How is he?’

‘He’s out of surgery. The cardiac team said it went well, they removed the blockage, but they will need to do another surgery at some point soon. But right now, they have induced sedation until his blood pressure starts to respond to the medications.’

My eyes went wide, and I felt a tear roll down my cheek. ‘The doctors said that it’s all very normal with his type of heart attack,’ he assured me. ‘That he’s otherwise healthy and that’s a really good thing. Your mom called 911 right away, they got him in and treated, it was a best-case scenario.’

He wiped the tear from my face with his thumb. ‘They expect him to make a full recovery.’

I nodded, ‘Ok, can I go see him?’

‘Why do you think they went through all this to get you here?’

I smiled, ‘I thought you sprung for the private jet.’

‘Cupcake, if I could afford that, I’d have had you here months ago.’ He kissed me again before taking my hand in his, and my carry-on suitcase in the other.

It had been one year, three months and nine days since I was last on American soil. I viewed the landmarks as we drove through Boston to Mass General; not much had changed and even at 10:45 on a Saturday morning the traffic was still congested. Thankfully it was a bright and sunny day, so I was getting away with my large sunglasses. I had on my red wig, a pair of black leggings and a form-fitting grey long-sleeved tunic-length shirt. On top of that, I was wearing a wool coat that went to my mid-thigh and a pair of black ankle boots with a slight heel on them.

Underneath the disguise of the wig, contacts, and sunglasses, I wasn’t the same girl that had left Boston over a year ago. Gone was my long blonde hair, now a bit shorter and back to my natural brown. When not in a bun under my wig, it was past my shoulders, which I liked to put a few curls in to give it volume when I wore it down. I had my teeth whitened; they had never been bad, I just could, so I did. And felt more confident than ever to flash my bright new smile, which, I did a lot more now that I was discovering things that made me truly happy. My chest was nearly flat, and gone was almost half of my former self, physically, but had doubled if not tripled my mental and emotional resolve.

But at my core, I was still Jessa Cahill, a loving daughter, a loyal cousin, a faithful girlfriend and girl—no, woman—who missed her best friends dearly.

I had grown so much over the past year and truly found out who I was. The one thing I was positive about was my devotion to my family and the love I had for Drew. I had missed and needed them more in the past 8 hours than the last year and a half combined. Including birthdays, Thanksgiving and Christmas. Despite all the information I’d uncovered, all the wrong I was trying to put right, I felt completely and utterly helpless at the moment.

As we pulled into the hospital parking lot I looked around. ‘Do you know if you were followed?’ I asked him.

‘I don’t think so,’ he told me, shrugging and looking around. ‘I doubt it. If Brett thought you were in any danger, he’d have never let you get on that flight.’

I nodded and agreed with him. Breton had always been a bit protective over me, but since moving to London and living with him, I saw a level of caring from him that I never had imagined before.

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