Entice

Chapter Seventeen

Nixon

To say that the ride to the airport was awkward would be a gross understatement. To start things off, Tex was wearing a scarf — to Vegas of all places. The fact that his jaw was starting to bruise yellow wasn’t helping matters or that he had on sunglasses to hide his terrible hangover.

Every few minutes, Mo would glare in his direction and play with a knife, tossing it into the air and catching it, only to glare at him again.

At least Trace was acting semi-normal.

Until she asked about Chase. Again.

“Was last night — I mean, did he and Mil…” She stopped talking and frowned. “Are they okay?”

Tex snickered.

I sent him a warning glare and wrapped my arm around Trace’s shoulders. “He’s fantastic. He just got married. Happiest day of a person’s life.” My smile was forced.

“I wouldn’t know,” Trace answered evenly then looked out the window.

I needed a drink.

The SUV stopped in front of the airport. I was ready to beat my way out of the car, using my teeth to rip the seatbelts if necessary, when the door finally opened.

“Thank God,” Mo whispered under her breath.

We grabbed our bags and made our way toward the Virgin Airways Kiosk, my favorite airline — best seats, always comfortable, and always able to find us a flight, even if it didn’t technically exist.

“So, uh.” Trace tugged on my arm. “How do we do this?”

“Do what?” I looked around in confusion.

“How do we fly?” She whispered fly as if she’d said kill or assassinate.

I tried to keep myself from laughing. “Well, we get our tickets over there. Then we go through security and hop on an airplane.”

She smacked me on the chest.

“No, I mean, people like us, how do we fly?”

I stared blankly at her face. She muttered a curse then whispered in my ear, “The mafia.”

I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I threw my head back and laughed. I laughed so loud that people were starting to stare. “Wow, Trace, thanks for that.”

“I’m serious!” Her fists clenched.

“I know, baby. That’s why it’s so damn adorable.”

“Hey, what’s the holdup?” Mo called from the ticket counter. “Our flight leaves in ninety minutes!”

With one last chuckle, I kissed Trace on the forehead and grabbed her arm. “Everyone flies the same way, sweetheart.”

“But—”

“Trust me.” I winked and pulled out my ID.

My cell phone lit up with a text from Chase.

Chase: Already through security, see you on the other side, man.

Me: Going through now.

Chase: Okay.

Me: Trace asked how we fly. As in our Family.

Chase: Uh, was she serious?

Me: Extremely.

Chase: That made my day.

Me: Mine too.

“Where do I put my hands? What if they suspect me of something? Do I lie?” Trace whisper-yelled next to me. I sighed and put my phone away.

She was alternating between pacing and picking at her fingernails. Remind me never to tell her sensitive information. The woman would crack on a dime.

“Trace.” I braced her shoulders. “You’re fine. Just act normal.”

Tex chuckled behind us. “Trace and normal? In the same sentence?”

Trace glared. “I won’t hesitate to pull a—”

I covered her mouth with my hand and smiled tightly. “A middle finger, we know, sweetheart, but that’s not very ladylike.”

She stomped on my foot. Hard.

Mo laughed and took off her sunglasses. “It’s a great day.”

“Shit.” Tex went pale.

“What?” All of us had successfully made it past with our IDs and were now standing in line to put all our earthly possessions into the bins.

“My scarf, man.” Tex tugged at it. “If I pull it off…”

“She knows.” I grabbed a bin and threw in my ring, my wallet, ticket, and shoes. “Trust me, you made sure of that last night.”

Tex’s face fell. “What if I told you we didn’t actually—”

I held up my hands to stop him. “None of my business. Now hurry up. You’re holding up the line.”

Tex unwrapped his scarf, swearing the whole time, and stomped through the security. No beeps went off.

I was the last to go through. I always was.

The minute I stepped in, the red light went off.

I stepped back out, showed them I had empty pockets, and stepped back through again.

“Sir.” Security held up his hand. “We’re going to need to pat you down.”

“Fine,” I said through clenched teeth.

A man about half my size walked up to me, put on some plastic gloves and began patting all the way down my pant leg. I glanced at Trace, her face was ashen white. Did she really think I was stupid enough to bring a weapon through security?

“Any fake limbs? Metal plates from surgical procedures—”

“Whoops.” I shook my head in annoyance. “Yeah, I actually have a metal plate in my head, right here.” I pointed to my temple. “Sorry, I haven’t flown in a while, and I always forget.”

Sure enough, he lifted the wand to the side of my head, and it went off. With a sigh, he peeled off his gloves. “Next time step through the full body scanner, alright, son?”

Son? Huh, I wondered if he’d still call me that if he knew I possessed at least three hundred different ways to render him without his next breath?

“Sorry.” I shrugged.

He waved me off.

Trace ran into my arms, causing my breath to hitch when her body came into contact with my chest. “A metal plate?” she whispered so only I could hear.

“It was a long time ago.”

“Nixon—”

“Drop it.” I forced a smile. “Everyone ready? Let’s go to our gate. Chase and Mil are waiting.” Not a chance in hell I wanted to have that talk with her in the middle of an airport. Sorry, Trace. You see, after my dad locked me in a box, he’d use me as his personal punching bag until I couldn’t see straight. Right. Not necessary information. Trace would just want to talk about my feelings, and talking was the last thing I needed to be doing.