Page 7 of Wicked Truths

Frantic screams fill the air as people scramble around in the darkness. I stay still up against the baggage carousel, not wanting to get trampled.

With it being late at night and storming, the only light that comes inside is the occasional flash of lightning.

If there weren’t so many people standing around, I could make my way to the door using the flashlight on my phone, but I still need my luggage.

It takes several moments, but the airport’s backup generators turn on, illuminating the airport with dim emergency lights. It’s bright enough in here to see where we are going, but not bright enough to resume normal function.

Several airport workers join us at the baggage carousel. An older woman waves her hands, getting everyone’s attention.

“We apologize for the interruption of your travel plans, but unfortunately, we can’t get your bags to you at this time. If you can fill out one of these forms with your contact information, we will call when you can return to pick up your luggage.”

I let out a frustrated sigh. This is just great.

I have nothing for my apartment. No food and no drinks. Only one pair of spare lounge clothes and a pair of pajamas in my backpack. No clothes to start work tomorrow.

And I can’t get my bags until they sort this mess out.

I follow the crowd to the airport employees andgrab a form before digging out a pen from my backpack.

The form is easy to fill out. I write down my name, phone number, and address in the boxes at the top of the form before filling out the flight information and the number and color of my bags.

My luggage would be easy to spot if we were allowed in the back area to get our bags. Both of my suitcases are bright blue, shiny, and hard shelled.

After filling out my form, I follow the crowd of people back to the employees and hand them the sheet of paper.

Giving the woman a friendly smile, I whisper, “Thank you.”

I might be frustrated with the chain of events that took place today, but I know this isn’t her fault, and I’ve already heard several people complain to her about this minor inconvenience.

Making my way to the doors that lead outside, I take a deep breath. Bad things always seem to happen in threes, and right now, I’m only sitting at two.

One. My flight was delayed.

Two. I can’t get my bags tonight.

What is going to be number three? Getting to my apartment only to be told I don’t have a place?

I shake that thought away. Just because my flight was a disaster doesn’t mean the entire day, or night, will follow suit.

I will take each obstacle one by one and deal with them when they pop up. I always have my room athome if need be, even if Dad and Joey are too busy for me right now.

With a new perspective and brighter outlook for my evening, I walk outside and immediately freeze as I see the one person I wasn’t prepared to see yet.

Rhett Montgomery.

He’s leaning against the passenger door of his truck with his arms crossed, looking sexier than ever.

I can’t move or speak, so I stand here, mouth agape, as frustrated passengers walk around me.

My heart pounds in my chest.

What is he doing here?

Is this who Dad sent to pick me up?

Why is Rhett staring at me like that?

Why am I staring back at him like an idiot?