I WOKE UP because an intolerably bright light was burning the inside of my eyes.

"Attention, passengers. American Americans flight 1401 with service to Mexico City is in its final boarding process. All confirmed and ticketed passengers need to be on board at this time. Damas y Caballeros..."

I was at the airport. How convenient. Better be putting me up in first class, and not as an upgrade either, asshats.

I slowly sat up. I was laying on a chaise in front a floor-to-ceiling panoramic window with a western view. The light burning out my retinas was from the setting sun. Couldn't someone lower the shades? I dropped my feet to the ground and vigorously rubbed my face. Just because I was moving didn't mean I was awake.

At the bar were a group of men, all huddled together and whispering. When they realized I was moving, one of them broke away and hurried over.

It was my Uncle Daniel. Notably, he was wearing the same suit he had on when he aided and abetted in the murder of my brother. "Oh, Siobhan, my dear, how are you feeling?" He took a seat next to me. "We were so worried."

My family are professional wordsmiths. Their job is to obfuscate, confuse, twist, and contort facts to keep their clients as far away from justice as possible. I learned a long time ago to never take them on directly, and Daniel... well, he was the worst. In his bow tie and hapless visage, the man had practically weaponized optimism.

Besides, I had the flash drive. I had proof. All I needed was to get away. I took a deep breath. Fake it 'til you make it. "Daniel!" I cried, "oh, Daniel... Patrick..." I fanned my face as I pretended to hold back tears. "Patrick."

Daniel's eyes were just chock full of concern. "You poor, poor child," he cooed. "That must have been dreadful... but we must remember the World of the Lord. Behold we see through a glass darkly, but soon we shall see face to face." He reached in his pocket and handed me a tissue. "He's waiting for us in Abraham's bosom, with your father and mother, and the rest of the saints that have gone before us."

I sniffed and nodded. "I know, but--" real tears were welling up "--but I'm not ready to say goodbye."

"Mediate on this," Daniel replied, "for he shall surely rest in the arms of the Lord who formed us all from the dust of the earth, and holy Mary, the angels and all the saints will welcome him into the garden of the Paradise of the Lord."

I lost it. I completely lost it. I buried my face in my hands and started sobbing.

"The Lord giveth, the Lord taketh away," Daniel murmured. "Blessed be the name of the Lord."

"It is a shock. Patrick was greatly love by us all."

I lift my head. My Uncle Leland had joined us and was sitting next to Daniel. "He was also a good lawyer," Leland added. "Not a great one... but good. Sufficient. A little too emotional, in my opinion."

I turned to Daniel, who cast Leland a sour look. "Lee," Daniel chided. "This isn't the time."

"Isn't it?" Leland asked as he pulled a flash drive from his jacket pocket. "Siobhan, my dear, I've always admired your cunning. You are truly your mother's daughter."

I watched the flash drive the way a cat watches a laser pointer. "Patrick's death was by natural causes," Leland continued. "The coroner's report will confirm it. His body will be cremated, according to his last wishes. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust."

I couldn't help myself... I felt around in my bra to make sure the flash drive was there.

It wasn't. How did they know? "Oh. My. God. You searched inside my bra? That is so-ooo pervy."

Leland didn't bother to hide his smirk, but Daniel did seem a bit chagrined. "Well... security alerted us to your presence," Daniel explained, "and we know you... and what you're capable of of. Take it as a compliment." He shifted in his seat uncomfortably. "We used one of the female security personal, if that make you feel better."

"It doesn't." I rubbed my face indignantly. "I feel skeevy. Thank you. For that."

"Siobhan, dear, you left us no choice," Leland replied, unfazed. "That flash drive would open a door that you could never close. You would be wasting your life beating against a wall you could never hope to take down."

"Your wall has cracks," I snapped. "It won't last forever."

Leland frowned. "Forever? Of course not." He paused. "Centuries, on the other hand? That's doable." He leaned back in the chair and gave me a surprising fond look. "You're so much like your father sometimes. All that judgment and emotion. It's charming... irritating, too, but also charming."

I swallowed. "You won't get away with it."

"Yes, we will," Leland replied and steepled his fingers. "We have. We will. We always will."

Daniel nodded. "It's true, Siobhan. It's part of our business model."

For a moment, I lost the ability to speak. They were talking about murder like it was a prong of their corporate culture. For a moment, I pictured a PowerPoint lecture, where a speaker was saying, "And, of course, murder can be an excellent tool in weeding out recalcitrant equity partners..."

"I know you're angry," Leland was saying. "You loved Patrick, and we respect that. We truly do."

Daniel nodded enthusiastically. "It speaks highly of your character."

"But at the same time, he made a choice that conflicted with the will of an established client. You understand. The client comes first."

"Always," Daniel echoed. "Always. Before everyone and everything."

Leland leaned forward. "We exhort you, my dear, do not be consumed by what you witnessed. Patrick would not want you to waste your life pursuing such foolishness." He looked over my head. "Wouldn't you agree, Alexander?"

"Wholeheartedly."

The voice, the timbre, the tone... male, boarding school elocution, arrogant... a chill washed through me. I slowly turned my head as Alexander Livingston sauntered over, a lazy smile on his handsome face. "Siobhan, listen to your uncles. They only want what's best for you."

___ *** ___ *** ___ *** ___ *** ___

SUDDENLY, IT ALL made sense.

The trust. The car. Patrick's anger over an unenforceable contract. It was about Alex. And it was about me.

For a moment, I forgot how to breath. The monster of my nightmares was here, the setting sun reflecting off his hair and making it look like he had a halo. "Hi, baby," he purred. "You look pretty."

Today, he wore a pair of $1000 jeans, a handkerchief linen button-down, and bespoke man-sandals. He was tan, and his hair had gotten long, to the point it was almost past his collar. He looked like a long lost Hemsworth brother.

I turned to my uncles. "You... you... that's what the contract was about... you and Pat said no, but you killed him--" Alex took a seat next to me "--don't!" I spat. "Don't you sit here... I have a restraining order!"

I tried to stand, but Alex pulled me down. "Calm down," he murmured, "everything's fine."

"No, it's not... Leland... Daniel, tell him!" I pushed him back. "Tell him, I have a restraining order!"

Daniel refused to meet my eyes, but Leland only shrugged. "The restraining order's been lifted," Leland replied. "It wasn't valid in this jurisdiction, anyway."

"It's all good, baby," Alex said, all hands and touches. "Now we can start over."

Fighting was futile; I was still too messed up from whatever they gave me earlier. I shuddered as Alex planted a kiss on my cheek.

"Reinstate it," I demanded, "he broke my arm..."

"It was an accident," Alex replied. "I promise, it won't happen again... you know, unless she does something clumsy." He smiled. "She can be clumsy."

I shoved him; my eyes glued on my uncles. Of the two, Daniel looked more uncomfortable. "Daniel, please. Please, he's a monster..."

"He's worth $28.2 billion dollars," Leland replied, standing up. "A monster could hardly be worth so much money."

"It's true." Daniel forced a smile, following Leland's lead. "Whom God has blessed with so much can only himself be worthy of such a blessing."

I blinked. "Does that make sense?" I asked. "How does that make sense?"

"Shh. The man has a point," Alex whispered in my ear.

"Get off me," I hissed back.

"You two! You make such a beautiful couple," Daniel cooed, ignoring my distress. "I am so excited to see your children." He shook a finger at us. "You two get started on that right away! Babies are best when you're young enough to enjoy them."

"We're going to," Alex purred, kissing my neck. "Lots of babies. I think, at least five."

I found my voice. "Why are you doing this to me?" I yelled after them. "What have I done to deserve this?"

Leland stopped in his tracks and turned, a deep frown on his face. "Pardon? What are we doing to you? What we're doing is for you. For your life. For your future. You will be married to a man of means, one will take care of you for the rest of your life... honestly, Siobhan. You need to work on your gratitude, young lady." He stormed out of the lounge, without a backward look.

Daniel smiled apologetically. "What my brother means is, think good thoughts, and good things will happen... and maybe, don't be so... smart mouthed?" He shrugged and chased after Leland.

Alex watched them, a bemused look on his face. "Your family is priceless, Siobhan. I mean, they couldn't be funnier if they tried."

I pushed him back. "Whatever they promised you is bullshit. I'm not going with you. Leave."

He turned to me and chuckled. "So. Cute. Seriously, you're so cute when you're angry." He reached for me, but I flinched. "Okay. I see I need to break this down." He turned my chin. "Put your listening ears on, baby, because it's like this. I own you. Do you understand? I own your life. Your money. Your credit rating." He spoke to me like he was speaking to a beloved pet. Who's a good girl? You're a good girl... "You'll never get a job. You'll never have a place to live. You'll never have anything. Sure, you could chose live on the streets, but do know what happens to homeless women?" He raised an eyebrow. "And you think I'm bad?"

I concentrated on my breathing.

"Do you understand?"

I nodded.

"Vocally, please."

"Yes."

"Good." He draped an arm around my neck and kissed my temple. "So... we can either go back to New York and pick up where we left off... or I drop you off on St. Barts... where there's a Category Four hurricane bearing down on it now as we speak... Herman, of all names, but I'm sure you'll be fine. I mean, hurricanes can shift paths." He kissed me again. "What's it going to be?"

Fake it 'til you make it. "New York in the fall sounds lovely," I muttered.

"That's my girl." He leaned for a kiss, but I turned my cheek. He yanked my chin toward him. "Uh, do that again, and get the galoshes, because it's stormy weather."

I let him kiss me. What choice did I have? It was either that or gale-force winds. The moment his lips were on mine was the moment my agency checked out and my lips parted on their own volition... dammit. Alex was abusive and cruel, but my attraction to him was ridiculous. Besides, he could kiss like nobody's business...

"Ahem. Um... Mr. Livingston?"

Alex raised his head as I nearly slid out of my seat, attraction and shame melting any semblance of a backbone. "Are you blind, or just stupid?" he snarled. "We're busy."

"Mr. Livingston, I'm sorry, sorry, but there's a problem with your aircraft," the airline employee tittered, clearly terrified. She had a McIver look to her, with her freckles and bright red hair; probably a cousin from the poorer branch. "The captain wants to speak to you."

Alex stared at her. "What is the problem? Does it fly or not? Let's use our words. Do you know words?"

The girl flushed a deep red. "It doesn't fly," she replied. "I'm just a messenger... I don't know how else to say it."

"Idiot," Alex sneered. "Fine. Just fine." He turned to me. "Don't move. I'll be right back." He marched off with the airport employee chasing after him.

I had no money. No car. No way of getting anywhere, or of getting away from him. My best bet was going with him to New York, and hopefully not pissing him off too badly before getting together enough cash to get out.

Only one way to handle the time in between. I got up and went to the bar. "Scotch, neat. And don't even think about carding me."

The bartender poured the drink in silence and disappeared. I lifted the glass. "Here's to you, Patrick. I'll... I'll miss you. I'll miss you more than I can say."

I raised the glass to my lips, but before I could drink, I caught a glimpse of a man who looked exactly like Patrick go through a door kitty-corner from the lounge. "Patrick?"

I put down the drink. The man had the same build and the same strawberry blond hair. It couldn't be. It was impossible.

Not that it mattered. I dashed out of the bar, reaching the door just before it closed. "Patrick?" I opened the door. "Patrick?"

It was a jet bridge. I glimpsed a man turn a corner. "Patrick!" I ran after him.

At the end of the jet bridge stood an older woman with a McIver airport authority uniform. Hearing me running, she turned and shot me a seriously dirty look. "Good Lord. You're cutting it close. I was about to shut the door. Try to be on time next time."

She was the only person around.

"Um... I was looking for—"

"Your per diem? Here, I have it." She handed me an envelope. "Now get on. I need this gate."

I paused.

"Go!" she shouted.

I got on the plane. The door slammed and cranked shut

___ *** ___ *** ___ *** ___ *** ___

HOLY FREAKING WHAT am I doing?

"Hello!" Two pilots waved.

"Um... hi." I waved back.

"Take a seat anywhere," one of them yelled.

"Okay." Act like you belong here. I walked down the aisle to first class, where three women in flight attendant uniforms were sitting. There were no other passengers, at least as far as I could tell. The plane was pitch black except for the occasional reading light.

"Oh. I didn't know there was four of us." A woman who could have been my older doppelganger greeted me a gigantic smile. "Hi, I'm Tandy. That's Lisa at the window, and Didi on the right. You're ferrying back to base with us?"

It was a question. I answered affirmatively. "Yes. I am."

The other two were older doppelgangers, too. Three redheads, plus me... no wonder the ground worker thought I belonged here. Huh.

"You must be new. So cute. You sit down here with me." Tandy patted the seat next to her. "It's nice to see a new face."

I took the seat next to Tandy. Didi and Lisa were chatting amongst themselves.

"Don't you just love these McIver charters?" she asked as I fastened my seat belt.

The plane pushed back from the jet bridge. "They are amazing," I replied.

"They're the only ones I work," she said. "The McIver boys may be old, but they are so generous. So many girls out there love the NFL or NBA charters, but I say, give me a lonely middle-aged lawyer any day of the week." She nudged me. "Open the envelope."

We were taxiing down the runway. "Cabin, prepare for take-off."

"Good old Captain Bill," Tandy said, pulling her seat belt tighter. "He's always in a hurry to get back to base. He's got a new baby at home."

"That's awesome," I replied. I opened the envelope. It was stuffed full of $100s. "Is this...?"

She nodded. "Three grand. Get it every charter as a bonus. Don't tell. I'm serious." Her eyes narrowed. "Don't. Tell."

Jeez. Tandy has a dark side. "I won't."

We flew down the runway. Only a trace of the setting sun was visible in the horizon. Three, two, one... I closed my eyes. Please. Please. Please. Liftoff.

I opened my eyes. The lights of the town of McIver shone below. In the distance, the lights of Davenport, Iowa, twinkled like a rhinestone necklace around the neck of a Midwestern prom queen.

Holy crap. Holy f-ing crap. I had gotten away. How did I do that? How the hell did I do that?

I did it. I really did it.

I stared out the window into the blackness as Tandy's chattering went in one ear and out the other. The man. The man who'd gone through the door. The man who'd looked like Patrick.

None of it made sense. The door should have been closed. It should have locked. Somebody should have stopped me from going down an unsecured jet bridge. Where was security?

Add to that the fact that the only person on the jet bridge was the female airport ground worker.

Omigod... I took a deep breath. I've always been a little too pragmatic to believe in ghosts, but this was too weird to be explained away... except, maybe I was still coming down off the drugs? Maybe that was it? Or an optical illusion?

That doesn't explain the unlocked door.

"Are you okay?" Tandy asked. She smelled like a Jo Malone fragrance, but I couldn't nail which one. "You look a little peaked."

"No... I'm fine." I smiled weakly. "I'm a little hungry."

"Oh, well, we got you covered there!" Tandy stood up and clapped her hands. "Ladies, on the menu tonight is a traditional meat-and-potatoes fare, with your standard Caesar salad, shrimp cocktail, filet mignon cooked to order, and stuffed potatoes au gratin. Dessert, for those who aren't counting calories, is a choice of fruit and cheese, or an ice cream sundae." She grinned. "With all the toppings, of course." She looked around. "Now, who's cooking?"

I literally had to wipe drool off my lip. In the end, why look a gift horse in the mouth. Did it really matter how I got on the plane?

I pushed back my hair and straightened my shoulders. Nah. It didn't matter. Not a single bit.

What mattered was the ice cream. Ice cream always matters.

_____ * _____ * _____ * _____ * _____

Another long chapter, but this one I divided up into section breaks to make it easier to read. This is where you meet the new Alexander, who is a new character, not like FlyGirl's Alex. One of the critiques I received from readers was that Alexander C. was too likeable, which made it harder to root for Jason. This one, he's bad. Rich, handsome, and bad.

Thank you so much for taking time to read this new version. I hope you like it. If you do, please remember to vote!

©Copyright Liz Charnes January 2020

This work is protected by copyright and cannot be copied or used in any way without my express consent. Please don't steal it. Thank you!