Chapter 1—Brice

My plane came in late. It was supposed to leave at 8:18am, but now is pushed back until 4:09pm. "Dammit," I mumble under my breath. I have nothing to do for the next 8 hours. No money, no phone, nothing.

I just stood there, staring at the monitor containing all the arrivals and departures for the upcoming flights. I roll my eyes and lazily walk over to the seating area in front of my gate. Opening my backpack, I fumble for my iPod and headphones, waiting impatiently for them to take my mind away from the stress of air travel. I scrolled through my songs, and then finally settled for Tom Waits.

I feet my lids grow heavy over my eyeballs as I gently doze off. I tuck my legs to my chest creating a tight ball in my chair. I feel safe like this, protected. The steady voice of Tom Waits took my mind off work, the kids, and him. I cringe at thought of what he has done to me, of all the pain he has put the kids and I through.

I force my mind to think of something else besides him, but everything I think about draws his image straight back into my head. Thinking of old memories of us in the backyard having a picnic, or about the time we went to that amusement park for the week and how he accidentally threw up on the rollercoaster operator and how much we laughed about it. I smile a little with that memory in my head, but I catch myself and demand my mouth to return to a frown.

My eyes shoot open at the feeling of my stomach rumbling. I can't buy anything though because I used all my money for the cab fare to get here. Just then, I get the grand idea of wandering the airport in search of loose change. A dollar, a nickel, any amount of money will do.

My legs feel like lead as I drag myself across the airport terminal. I can feel peoples' eyes in the back of my head, burning holes through my skull. I'm sure I don't look very pleasant to some people. They would call me a hobo probably. Or just a 26 year-old woman who looks like she hasn't slept in days because she ran away from her home and kids to avoid her abusive husband who is on the chase after her as I speak. Yeah, the second choice is more accurate.

For quiet city Boston, the airports sure are busy as hell. To my right, one woman is sprinting down the terminal trying to catch her flight. On my left, an assistance car passes me while the driver yells, "Mind the cart, sir!" or "Please watch out!" Everybody scrambles out of his way immediately. I try to ignore every person in that building, hoping to find some peace of mind.

After a couple of minutes of walking, my feet finally take me to a vending machine next to a long, dark wall. I check the return-coin slot for change, only to be disappointed. My eye twitches with anger and exhaustion as I bang my fist against cheap machine. I push my long black hair behind my ear and I begin to walk towards the food court. Maybe someone might have dropped some coins while paying for their food or something among those lines.

My stomach was yelling at me by the time I reached the food court. I looked around at the various fast-food restaurants as options I couldn't have. This is one of those moments that I just wish I were invisible. I wish no one would pay attention to me and no one would see the strange tasks I am doing. I discreetly look under every table and chair in search for that precious coin or bill. Suddenly, stuck to the side of one of the chair legs, I see a crisp five-dollar bill. "Ah! You're beautiful!" I say as I kiss it. Triumphantly, I head to the Dunkin' Donuts stand and order a large bagel and medium coffee. I devour the donut very quickly, but I decided to sip my coffee with more class.

Not hungry (but not satisfied either), I trudge back to my chair in front of my gate. I keep my eyes on my feet, trying not to make any eye contact with any person besides my shoes.

All of the sudden, I hit a wall, spilling my coffee all over the wall and I. "Holy shit," I curse as I look at the damage done to my only t-shirt. I look up in front of me to the wall, but what I thought was wall, wasn't a wall at all. It was a man.

My eyes grow big in embarrassment as I look at the man's shirt and jeans. The coffee compressed his thin shirt against his toned stomach and tight chest. My mouth opens at the sight of his muscles, and reluctantly, I look at his face.

My heart starts racing and my feet automatically back pedal 4 steps. I recognize him. He already looked embarrassed for the coffee incident, so I didn't attract any more attention to the situation. He looks at me with his light blue eyes, and the scowl he wore fades away. He smirks, knowing I know who he is, yet I didn't scream his name.

My teeth are chattering as I apologize. "I-I'm so sorry, sir. I didn't know what was going through my mind! I-" My words begin to evaporate as his hand reaches up and touches my neck lightly. My skin tingles quietly underneath his sensitive touch. "Its alright, babe. Don't be so worried! Go ahead, say my name," he whispers softly. His breath is warm on my face and smells like peppermint and cigarette smoke. "Say it, I dare you," he repeated playfully. He sent a soul-melting wink in my direction as I mumble his name.

"You're… You're… You're Norman Reedus."

"Bingo, babe." He replied with another heart-wrenching wink.