Read Online Artifact by Gigi Pandian - Free Book Online Page B

been enough encouragement to give him fanatical ideas about getting inside my apartment?
    My brain hurt again. Two days ago my life had made sense. Sure, it wasn’t perfect. But at least I knew what to expect. Now, not only had my ex-boyfriend been murdered, but my apartment burglarized, and I was about to take an insane trip leading God-knows-where.
    “I don’t have time to talk,” I said to Miles.
    “I brought you something in case it happens again.” He fumbled in a baggy pocket of his cargo pants.
    I didn’t want to see whatever he was going to pull out of his pants.
    “I’m really okay,” I said. “You don’t need to give me anything. I’m going out of town.”
    Miles stopped digging through his pockets. “Do you want me to look after your place while you’re gone?”
    “You don’t need to do that. Look, my landlady already had the door fixed.”
    “You still need protection,” Miles said.
    “I’ll be okay.”
    Taking care of myself isn’t something I spend time worrying about. What I’m less confident of is my ability to pull off the more practical aspects of day-to-day life, like whether I could finish packing in time to make my flight. I left Miles in the doorway as I pulled a few more items from the closet.
    “Can I help?” he asked a few moments later, his mouth only a few inches from my ear.
    I was about to yell at Miles for his creepy behavior when a car in front of the house beeped its horn. That was the cab. I zipped up the backpack, grabbed my messenger bag, and pushed Miles out the door. If I’d forgotten anything, I could buy it 5,000 miles away.

     

Chapter 11

     
    The cabbie drove almost as fast as me, and soon I was shuffling through the airport security line. I loaded my messenger bag and small backpack onto the conveyor belt and waited.
    And waited.
    The screener behind the X-ray machine frowned. He motioned to a man with a mustache.
    Mustache walked over to the X-ray machine and leaned over. He frowned as well. They backed up the conveyor belt. It was my backpack the screener held in his hands.
    “Excuse me, ma’am,” Mustache said to me. His biceps flexed under his dress shirt. “Is this your bag?”
    He lifted the backpack in his large hands. I watched in horror as he removed a can of pepper spray.
    Oh, God. Miles. He had wanted to give me something to protect myself.
    “Ma’am,” Mustache said, “please step this way.”
    I stepped into a roped-off area. At least I wasn’t behind a closed door. Yet.
    “Is there a problem?” a familiar voice said.
    I turned and saw before me a figure I hardly recognized. Lane was dressed in a charcoal gray suit with a red dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar. The bright color set off his eyes, their hazel color appearing almost bronze. His hair was combed with a gel that held his tresses perfectly in place. Even his thick glasses took on a different look with the new ensemble. They were a trendy accessory now. Not a studious reading tool.
    “Wow,” I said.
    I hadn’t meant to say that.
    Lane ignored me. It was probably for the best, since who knew what I would say next. He stepped forward and spoke with the security guard in hushed tones.
    Mustache stepped out of the roped-off area and led Lane a few feet away. I could no longer hear their voices. Lane didn’t look at me, but Mustache glanced over at me every few seconds.
    He nodded slowly at Lane. Lane put out his hand for Mustache to shake. They shook hands in that curt, firm way that competitors do.
    Lane picked up a small bag on the ground at his feet, then strode quickly toward me. With his free hand, he took my hand in his. I felt a sharp jolt of electricity. It must have been the carpet.
    “Grab your stuff,” he said.
    I stared up at him.
    “What?” he said. “I didn’t want you to miss your flight.”
    “You followed me!”
    “Aren’t you going to thank me? That was pretty stupid to try to bring pepper spray on a flight. I thought Nadia said you knew judo or