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Authors: T.M. Franklin
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away, Finn at my heels as I whispered into the phone. "They won't let me past the gate."
"What are we going to do? The flight attendants are headed this way. I can only pretend to fight with my carry-on for so long."
I scanned the area, desperate, panic trickling its way up my spine. I had to do something.
"Maybe we should just buy a ticket for the next flight," Other Finn suggested.
"There's no time," I murmured, a plan already forming as I watched Rita announce the boarding call for the adjoining gate, and passengers started to line up, dragging their carry-ons and crying children behind them.
"Get close to the door," I told Finn.
"What are you going to do?"
"Create a distraction."
"Ro—"
"Go!" I snapped. "We're almost out of time."
Finn chewed on his lip for a second, then nodded abruptly. I watched as he walked toward the windows and edged his way closer to the open doors leading to the jetway.
"Ro?"
"It's under control," I said quietly into the phone. "Be ready. He'll be there."
"Who?"
"One sec."
I took a deep breath to center myself, then strode up to a man in a black suit, grabbed his rolling carry-on, and turned to walk away.
"Hey!" he shouted.
I kept walking.
"Miss! Stop!"
I quickened my steps, looking over my shoulder only long enough to see Finn slip behind the barricade and through the doors.
"Go now!" I shouted into the phone. "Get to that spot, Finn— and think about how much you want to be home. How much you want to be with me."
"What?"
"Please, just do it," I said, dodging a stack of suitcases, then dropping the carry-on as I broke out into a run. "Think about me, Finn. Don't stop, okay?"
"Okay, I'm here. I'm at the spot," he said.
"Keep thinking of me," I replied, as two huge men in a golf cart with flashing lights sped toward me. "Don't stop, not matter what. I love you!" I hung up and hoped for the best.
I had to say one thing about security at Sea-Tac airport: They were fast. Efficient.
And strong as hell.
1:14 AM
I was a criminal.
I'd been detained and questioned, and had to explain that I had thought the man in the black suit had grabbed my luggage by mistake. It was so late and I was exhausted, and I was really sorry and I promised not to do it again if they'd just cut me a little slack this one time.
In the end, they released me, returned my bag and my phone, and escorted me to the doors with a repeated warning not to return to the airport anytime soon.
Oh yeah, and I was on the No-Fly List.
Perfect .
"Ro, are you okay?" Finn pushed off the wall and approached us, hesitating when the two officers holding my arms glared at him. "What are you doing with her?"
"Finn, it's okay," I said, searching his features as they dragged me along. I wanted to know if it worked— if he was my Finn, but I could hardly bring it up as I was being forcibly removed from the premises.
"Is this really necessary?" Finn asked, walking quickly alongside us.
Another glare, and Finn shrugged at me, cramming his hands in his pockets as we made our way to the parking garage. They let me go, watching with arms crossed and intimidation at an all-time high as we got into my car and drove slowly out of the garage. Once we hit open air, I checked my rear-view mirror and pulled over, turning to Finn.
I hesitated, unsure of how to proceed. If he was my Finn, he'd expect me to welcome him home. But if he was the other Finn . . .
He sighed. "It didn't work."
My heart sank.
"I made it onto the jetway," he said, "found the exact spot and visualized my ass off." He smiled when I snorted. "But nothing happened."
I slumped back into my seat, then stiffened. "Crap," I muttered, fumbling in my bag for my phone. The police had taken it and turned it off, and when I turned it back on, I winced when I saw four voicemails waiting for me. One was from Lindsay, wondering how things had gone. The other three, as expected, were from Finn, wondering where I was, and sounding progressively more irritated. He
"What are we going to do? The flight attendants are headed this way. I can only pretend to fight with my carry-on for so long."
I scanned the area, desperate, panic trickling its way up my spine. I had to do something.
"Maybe we should just buy a ticket for the next flight," Other Finn suggested.
"There's no time," I murmured, a plan already forming as I watched Rita announce the boarding call for the adjoining gate, and passengers started to line up, dragging their carry-ons and crying children behind them.
"Get close to the door," I told Finn.
"What are you going to do?"
"Create a distraction."
"Ro—"
"Go!" I snapped. "We're almost out of time."
Finn chewed on his lip for a second, then nodded abruptly. I watched as he walked toward the windows and edged his way closer to the open doors leading to the jetway.
"Ro?"
"It's under control," I said quietly into the phone. "Be ready. He'll be there."
"Who?"
"One sec."
I took a deep breath to center myself, then strode up to a man in a black suit, grabbed his rolling carry-on, and turned to walk away.
"Hey!" he shouted.
I kept walking.
"Miss! Stop!"
I quickened my steps, looking over my shoulder only long enough to see Finn slip behind the barricade and through the doors.
"Go now!" I shouted into the phone. "Get to that spot, Finn— and think about how much you want to be home. How much you want to be with me."
"What?"
"Please, just do it," I said, dodging a stack of suitcases, then dropping the carry-on as I broke out into a run. "Think about me, Finn. Don't stop, okay?"
"Okay, I'm here. I'm at the spot," he said.
"Keep thinking of me," I replied, as two huge men in a golf cart with flashing lights sped toward me. "Don't stop, not matter what. I love you!" I hung up and hoped for the best.
I had to say one thing about security at Sea-Tac airport: They were fast. Efficient.
And strong as hell.
1:14 AM
I was a criminal.
I'd been detained and questioned, and had to explain that I had thought the man in the black suit had grabbed my luggage by mistake. It was so late and I was exhausted, and I was really sorry and I promised not to do it again if they'd just cut me a little slack this one time.
In the end, they released me, returned my bag and my phone, and escorted me to the doors with a repeated warning not to return to the airport anytime soon.
Oh yeah, and I was on the No-Fly List.
Perfect .
"Ro, are you okay?" Finn pushed off the wall and approached us, hesitating when the two officers holding my arms glared at him. "What are you doing with her?"
"Finn, it's okay," I said, searching his features as they dragged me along. I wanted to know if it worked— if he was my Finn, but I could hardly bring it up as I was being forcibly removed from the premises.
"Is this really necessary?" Finn asked, walking quickly alongside us.
Another glare, and Finn shrugged at me, cramming his hands in his pockets as we made our way to the parking garage. They let me go, watching with arms crossed and intimidation at an all-time high as we got into my car and drove slowly out of the garage. Once we hit open air, I checked my rear-view mirror and pulled over, turning to Finn.
I hesitated, unsure of how to proceed. If he was my Finn, he'd expect me to welcome him home. But if he was the other Finn . . .
He sighed. "It didn't work."
My heart sank.
"I made it onto the jetway," he said, "found the exact spot and visualized my ass off." He smiled when I snorted. "But nothing happened."
I slumped back into my seat, then stiffened. "Crap," I muttered, fumbling in my bag for my phone. The police had taken it and turned it off, and when I turned it back on, I winced when I saw four voicemails waiting for me. One was from Lindsay, wondering how things had gone. The other three, as expected, were from Finn, wondering where I was, and sounding progressively more irritated. He
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