Promised To The Alpha Twins
Chapter 39

Although the bus trip had been somewhat uncomfortable, George’s presence was a welcome distraction. Anything to keep my mind away from what I was leaving behind calmed my nerves. At that late hour, there were few flight options. My alternatives were New York, Texas, and Iowa.

While New York was an intriguing option, my money would be spent much faster there. The flight to Texas didn’t depart until the early morning hours. Waiting until the sun surpassed the tree line and remained above the clouds wasn’t an option. The wait alone would undo me, my nerves would turn me into an anxiety wreck.

Iowa was the chosen one.

I knew little about the state, but I assumed the weather would be similar to Georgia’s. Mild humidity from the bright sun, warm but not as scorching as Texas.

I had little trouble getting a plane ticket; my canvas bag served as carry-on luggage. Every dollar I spent weighed on my mind. Instead of counting every individual purchase, I pushed the number out of my thoughts.

Georgia had been silent since our last conversation, buried deep in my wandering mind. I had the feeling we wouldn’t talk for a while.

My stomach had been a mess of knots and fear until I boarded the plane.

Once the plane took off, I released a sigh that I hadn’t realized I had been holding.

Saving money where I could, I declined the offer of first class and snuggled as close to the window as possible.

The plane wasn’t crowded, but almost every seat was occupied. An elderly woman sat next to me, her son at the other end. I leaned my head against the window, looking out into the darkness of the sky. I could have enjoyed this flight during the day. The thick clouds hanging in the sky resembled large tufts of cotton. At night, it was difficult to distinguish the shapes of the clouds; only faint stars dotted the sky.

A war waged between my self-control and my eyelids as they began to close on their own. Exhaustion had unknowingly been creeping over me since I first got into the taxi. The adrenaline of sneaking out of the house had long faded. With my canvas bag tucked on the floor against the plane’s wall, I succumbed to the encroaching darkness.

Perfume.

That was the scent that filled my nose, followed by a faint smell of laundry detergent. Floral notes mixed with the fresh aroma of soap. Somehow, I found this comforting. Something soft pressed against my cheek, lightly nudging my shoulder.

“Darling, the plane has landed,” a gentle voice shouted, followed by another touch on my shoulder. Suddenly, the events of the past few hours hit my mind. I pulled away from the older woman, the one I had been using as a pillow. With her sandy blonde hair neatly pulled back in a bun, small lines formed around her eyes and lips. Her deep brown eyes looked at me calmly, a motherly smile on her face. The child sitting next to her stirred as well, rubbing the sleep from their little eyes. “You looked exhausted. I didn’t have the heart to wake you up,” the blonde woman spoke, with a slight Southern accent in her words. Her accent was gentle, weaving through her words in a way that brought me a hint of comfort.

“Thank you.” I cleared my throat, feeling uneasy. Undoubtedly, b***d rushed to my face. I had used this woman as a pillow for the past few hours, and she had kindly allowed it.

I gathered up the courage to ask him for the time, stifling a yawn when he told me it was past three in the morning. I was grateful to step off the plane, stepping into the warm air of Missouri. Even at night, the breeze was filled with warmth, and even at that early hour of the morning, taxi drivers and other drivers lingered outside the airport. Most of them leaned against their cars, smoking or chatting.

While at the airport, I overheard two elderly women talking about a town called Pella. I didn’t catch much, apart from how lovely the town was, but I had already made up my mind. It felt liberating and refreshing to choose where I wanted to live on a whim, as I had never had that kind of control before.

Pella was a half-hour drive from the airport. The road became filled with silence and the static, muffled pulse of the taxi driver’s radio. I had asked him to drop me off at the nearest motel, one located downtown.

The neon blue light blinked cautiously, and ivy and vines made their way across most of the building. A rusty blue railing extended along most of the building, serving as a balcony for the guests staying there. The hotel office smelled of stale cigarettes and cheap air freshener, but this place was just a means to an end. All I needed was a few hours of sleep before setting out to find work and, hopefully, a place to live.

After paying a little under a hundred dollars for three nights, I grumpily made my way up to the second floor. The worn-out key the employee had given me jingled in my pocket as I climbed the cement stairs. The doors of each motel room had the same deep blue shade as the railing. Some doors looked fresh, as if they had been recently painted. The motel room smelled much like the hotel office, a fact I forced myself to push out of my mind, while the bed smelled like someone’s dusty attic. I nestled into it happily.

Even with the worn-out springs poking at my back, I felt safer than I had in a long time. For a moment, my heart leaped in my chest. No more Dub with his drunken rants and wandering hands. No more Lia with her manipulations and psychological torment. No more absent parents, talks about my future, or psycho ex-girlfriends. For just a fraction of a second, before two irresistibly beautiful faces appeared in my mind, I was truly happy.

I had slept well into the morning and woke up with a lead weight in my stomach. I was almost certain someone had already noticed my absence. The old clock on the table read 1:23 p.m. I had slept well into the afternoon.

There was always the possibility that no one had noticed my absence. It was Saturday, and I didn’t have a shift at the restaurant until much later that day. I wondered if I would see my face plastered on the television, big bold letters saying ‘Missing.’ Would I become one of those horror stories they tell on TV? The ones about serial killers, missing women, and acts of violence.

Using the tiny shampoo and conditioner bottles, I stepped into the rather dirty shower of the motel. After drinking a bottle of water and two granola bars, I changed clothes and left the room.

The two women at the airport had been right about the town; it was quite beautiful. New, crisp buildings lined the streets, some painted in bright colors. A bunch of small shops were open, along with a bakery on the corner. The smell of buttery glazed pastries filled the air. The air was thick and humid, the sun shining brightly in the sky, but it only added to the beauty. Lush trees and shrubs danced throughout the town, clustered on the streets and behind the buildings. The downtown area had that old-world charm, a multitude of colorful shops lining the streets. For once, hope filled my lungs and mixed with the lingering oxygen.

Out of all these shops, one had to be willing to hire me. I wanted to use my real name as little as possible, working under the table was a preference, not a necessity.

I walked down the street, breathing in the dense, humid air. I had changed out of my dark pants and hoodie into something more suitable for the weather. A pair of shorts settled on my h**s, followed by a white blouse. My only pair of rather worn-out sandals adorned my feet. Two hours passed, and I stopped at most of the shops, buying myself a coffee in the process. I spent some time talking to someone in each store, asking if they were looking for new employees. Many said no, while others asked for a phone number to contact me. Many of their faces dropped when I informed them that I didn’t have a phone, a weary look crossing their face as if they had many transient travelers looking for money. As my heart sank with each rejection, I took my time to check out each store.

A pang of pain shot through me, Aly’s face flashing in my mind. She had wanted to take me shopping more than anything, insisting on buying me whatever I wanted. Part of me wished Aly was with me, wandering the stores by my side. With a painful sigh, I pushed those thoughts away. I had a couple of stores left, but the rumbling of my stomach stopped me in my tracks. The thick aroma wafting from the bakery practically called me by my name, begging for a small fraction of the money I had brought.

The interior of the store matched the heavenly smell. White and a light pink tone lined the bakery, with padded seats in each of the booths inside. Large round cakes and small pastries rested under a thick glass dome, some of them still steaming. Notes of icing, cinnamon, and vanilla filled the store. The scent wafted down the street, attracting the walking crowds.

A boy and a girl of identical appearance stood behind the counter, each looking determined and a bit exhausted. Even from my place next to the door, I could see the tiny beads of sweat sticking to their foreheads. Their sandy blonde hair clung to their faces, but they continued moving as if they hadn’t noticed. The sidewalks were filled with people. I couldn’t tell if they all lived here or if most were tourists coming from the city. A small crowd had formed in the bakery, a long line that stretched through the store. Taking a deep breath of the sugary aroma, I enjoyed the small moments of happiness when I truly felt happy and continued to ignore the growing hole in my heart.