Read Mated to the Alpha Twins [by Jane Doe] Chapter 37 – While the bus ride had been somewhat uncomfortable, Justin’s presence was a welcomed distraction. Anything to keep my mind from what I was leaving behind soothed my frayed nerves.
At this time of night, there were little options on flights. My options were New York, Texas and Missouri. While New York was an intriguing option, my money would b**n much faster there. The flight to Texas wasn’t until the early hours of the morning. Waiting until the sun crested the forest line and hung above the clouds wasn’t an option. The wait alone would unravel me, my nerves turning me into a mess of anxiety.
Missouri it was.
I knew little about the state, but assumed the weather would be similar to Georgia. Humidity tempered with the brilliant sun, warm but not nearly as blazing as Texas or California.
I had little issue getting a plane ticket, my duffle bag serving as a carry-on item. Every dollar I spent weighed on my mind. Instead of counting each individual purchase, I pushed the number from my thoughts.
Thalia had been silent since our last conversation, buried deep in the depths of my wandering mind. I had a feeling we wouldn’t talk for quite some time.
My stomach had been a mess of knots and fear up until I boarded the plane. Once the plane left the ground, I released a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.
Saving money where I could, I declined the offer of first class and smushed myself as close to the window as possible. The plane wasn’t crowded, but nearly every seat was full.
An older woman sat beside me, her child on the far end. I leaned my head against the window, peering out into the darkness of the sky. I might have enjoyed this flight during the day. The thick clouds hanging in the sky, resembling large tufts of cotton. At night it was hard to make out the shapes of the clouds, only dim stars speckled the sky.
A war between my self-control and eyelids ensued as they begun to close on their own accord. Exhaustion had been unknowingly creeping up on me since first hopping into the Taxi. The adrenaline from sneaking out of the house had long wore off. With my duffle bag tucked on the floor against the wall of the plane, I succumbed to the creeping darkness.
notes mixed with the crisp scent of soap. Somehow, I found this comforting. Something soft pressed against my cheek, pressed lightly against my
A soft voice called out, followed by another touch to my
battered my mind. I lurched away from the older woman, the one I had been using as a pillow. With sandy blonde hair tucked neatly in a bun, small lines formed around her eyes and lips. Her deep brown eyes watched me calmly, a motherly smile on her face. The child
exhausted; I didn’t have the heart to wake you.” The blonde woman spoke, a slight southern accent to her words.
to my face. I had used this woman as a pillow for
for the time, stifling a yawn as she told me it was past three in the morning. I was grateful to stand
drivers lingered outside of the airport. Most of
town called Higgins. I hadn’t heard much, apart from how lovely of a
to choose where I wanted to live on a whim, as I had never held that kind of control before. Higgins was half an hour drive from the airport. The drive was filled
in the center of town. The neon blue light flickered warily, ivy and vines working their
smelled of stale cigarettes and cheap air freshener, but this place was only a means to an end. All I needed was a few hours’ sleep before I set
my pants as I trudged up the cement stairs. The doors to each motel room were the same deep shade
attic, I curled up on it blissfully. Even with
just a moment, my heart leaped in my chest. No more Frank with his drunken rants and wandering hands. No more Melissa with
before two irresistibly handsome faces
morning, waking up to a brick of lead weighing down my stomach. I was almost positive someone had noticed my absence already. The old alarm clock on the
always a chance no one had noticed my absence. It was Saturday, and I didn’t have a shift at the restaurant until much later
see my face plastered on television, big bold letters saying ‘Missing’. Would I become one of those h****r stories they tell on television? The one where
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