CHAPTER FOUR
I laid awake for hours that night, drifting in and out of sleep as I thought about our upcoming flight. Every time anxiety pushed its way to the forefront of my brain, I tried to smother it. I tried to ignore the sharp pangs in my chest when I thought about the upcoming flight. I was a nervous flier in the best of situations, but flight anxiety coupled with anxiety about Jack was almost crippling.
By the time seven rolled around, I had brushed my teeth and packed up the few things I’d removed from my suitcase. I was lying on my back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, when there was a knock at the door. “Come in,” I called, looking over at the door. Liam poked his head through, then came into the room.
“Are you ready to leave?” he asked without preamble.
“Good morning to you," I said, pushing up on my elbows. Liam nodded curtly, then picked up my suitcase and handed it to me.
“Let’s go,” he said. He grabbed the trunk and hoisted it up. His tee shirt lifted a bit when he did this, affording me with a view of the flat plane of his stomach. I distracted myself from ogling him by looking down at my phone with exaggerated interest. He walked out into the hallway with the trunk, and I followed him with my suitcase. Watching his muscles work under that tee shirt proved to be a very useful anti-anxiety method.
Two men in suits greeted us in the lobby, one of whom grabbed my suitcase for me and carried it to another black van. I got into the backseat and buckled up, closely followed by Liam. Once we started driving, I leaned my head against the headrest and closed my eyes, pinching my wrist to quell my nervousness.
"You're going to be fine," Liam said from beside me. I opened one eye to look at him. He was gruff, but he was trying to reassure me. "I am an extremely capable marshal. You're not in any danger with me, as long as you listen to everything I tell you to do."
"I'm not nervous about that," I said. "I mean, I am, but right now, the more pressing issue is my flight anxiety. I'm a bad flier."
Liam raised both eyebrows. “Flying is the safest method of transportation. Even when plane accidents occur, it’s almost never fatal because the majority of accidents happen on the runway.”
“I know all the statistics,” I said. “I realize my fear is irrational, but that doesn’t stop it from being real.”
Liam nodded. “Well, this is only an hour and a half flight, so I think you’ll be fine. I can arrange to get you some anxiety medication if you think that would help.”
I shook my head. “No, I should be fine. I’ll just have a couple of cocktails and try to go to sleep. With any luck, I’ll fall asleep before we lift off and wake up when we’ve landed.”
“Good luck,” Liam said, making me frown. I didn’t respond though, and we stayed silent for the rest of the drive. We arrived at Ronald Reagan National Airport, and our drivers unloaded our bags for us. As we walked through the terminal, I looked around at all of the other travelers, gaining confidence from their apparent indifference to the impending doom of their flights.
We went through security and got to the waiting area, where Liam parked in a chair to wait for boarding to start. "Liam," I whispered, sitting next to him. "Why are we flying commercial instead of private?"
“We’re being inconspicuous. It is suspicious for federal planes to land in airports in New Hampshire. By catching a commercial plane to Manchester, we’re blending in. Be calm. There's no chance of someone recognizing you here." I nodded, satisfied. A woman announced over the PA that boarding had started for the flight from Washington, D.C. to Manchester, New Hampshire.
Liam and I were in the second boarding group, and we settled into our seats while we waited for the rest of the passengers to finish boarding. I gripped my armrest, glancing around. "You guys couldn't have sprung for first class?" I asked, looking at Liam with a nervous grin.
“First class is a little out of our budget. Besides, blend in, remember?"
I nodded. The flight attendant shut the heavy door after the last passenger had walked down the aisle, put his bag in the overhead compartment, and buckled up. The pilot came over the loudspeaker, announcing that our flight was on time and we'd be taxiing down the runway for takeoff shortly. The plane backed up and turned, moving down the runway. I closed my eyes tightly. This was the worst part- the takeoff. The landing was not nearly as bad because it meant my feet would be on solid ground again. But taking off was nerve-wracking. I hadn't even had a chance to have a drink to dull the panic yet. I wished I had anything to distract me from the terror coursing through me. I'd flown many times, and had repeated the statistics about flying to myself many times, but in the moment, nothing rational could cut through the panic and the fear.
As the plane accelerated rapidly, preparing for takeoff, I clenched my fists, my fingernails digging into my palms and almost drawing blood. A large hand covered mine and pulled my fingers apart, flattening my hands out. Liam looked at me as he held my hand, his eyes reassuring me. I smiled gratefully at him and leaned against the headrest, gripping his hand tightly and trying not to panic with every dip that the plane took as it climbed higher and higher. Once we reached steady elevation, I loosened my grip on Liam's hand and reluctantly let go. When the flight attendant came around with the drinks, I ordered three and drank them in quick succession, much to Liam’s amusement. I eventually drifted into the darkness of a deep sleep.
I woke up to a couple of nudges to my shoulder. I groggily looked around at all of the people starting to stand, and realized with relief that we'd landed. "How was your nap?" Liam asked.
I shrugged wordlessly and unbuckled my seat belt, then hopped up and grabbed my suitcase. The sooner I was off this plane, the better.
As soon as we stepped onto the gangway, I breathed a sigh of relief. We walked down the hallway into the airport lounge, bags in hand. I was ecstatic about having my feet on solid ground again, so that crisis was over, but now my mind was free to devote itself entirely to worrying about my other, more realistically dangerous situation. I squared my shoulders and resolved not to think too hard about it, and to trust Liam to keep me safe.
I gasped when we stepped through the doors into the taxi area- snow was softly falling onto the already heavy coating of snow blanketing the surrounding land. I loved snow, and living in Virginia Beach, I rarely saw it. Something about snow just makes everything feel softer and more magical.
Liam stared at me, bewildered, as I giggled and ran to the nearest snowbank. I shoved my hand in and wiggled it around, only slightly disappointed when I pulled my hand out and it was covered in dirt and rocks. It must be the snow from the driveway that someone had plowed into a pile.
“Okay, insane person, come on. We have a car waiting for us,” Liam said impatiently. I reluctantly picked my suitcase up and followed Liam to our black cab. The drive was short, and I spent most of it staring out the window with my chin resting in my hand. The views were gorgeous- snow as far as the eye can see, clear skies punctuated by white mountains, pine trees glistening with icicles. I could get used to this winter wonderland.
We drove past a small village and down a long, winding driveway that led to a little cabin. Liam got out of the cab first, picking our suitcases and the large trunk from the Witness Protection center, and nodded at the driver. After I got out of the car, the cab made its way slowly back down the driveway, snow crunching under the tires.
“You didn’t pay the cab driver?” I asked Liam.
“That was a marshal,” Liam said. “You thought we’d just pop into a public taxi that would take you to your safe house?” I felt silly and so didn't respond. I turned and focused on the cabin we'd be staying in for the next week. It was cute, with a front porch that had a swing and a chimney that I hoped led to a real fireplace. I followed Liam up the front steps and through the front door, which led into a large living room. There was a couch, a love seat with an ottoman, and a recliner arranged around a large rug with a coffee table on it. I squealed when I saw that there was a real fireplace built into the wall across from the furniture.
“Ooh, I love fireplaces. I've never had one, but one time I went skiing, and the resort had a giant fireplace. This place is so adorable!" I gushed with an ear-to-ear grin. Liam looked around the place, seemingly unimpressed, and shrugged.
"Agnes, this isn't a vacation home. It's a safe house. You need to be on your guard at all times and hunker down while we're here, not treat this like it's a casual ski weekend," Liam said, locking all four locks on the front door.
"Skiing?" I asked. "Is there skiing here?" Liam frowned at me, and I threw my hands up. "Kidding!" I was only sort of kidding.
Liam made his way around the cabin, making sure that every single window was latched shut and every door was quadruple locked. Once he’d made his way around the entire perimeter, he pronounced the area safe and flopped down into the recliner.
I looked around, inspecting the cabin further. To the right of the living room was a small open kitchen, which I hoped was stocked with marshmallows and hot chocolate. And vodka. To the left was a short hallway with three closed doors. I glanced at Liam, whose head was leaned back with his eyes shut, and walked down the hallway. I opened the first door, which was just an all-purpose laundry room/ supply closet, and quickly closed the door. The second door opened into a bathroom which held a shower and a claw foot tub. I made a mental note to take full advantage of that as soon as I got a chance. I shut the bathroom door and opened the last door at the end of the hallway, which opened into a bedroom. The bedroom featured a king-sized poster bed in front of a window with a gorgeous view of a snowy mountain. My jaw dropped, and I plopped my suitcase down at the entrance to the bedroom. I walked to the bed and pushed down on the mattress. It was so soft that my hand almost disappeared within the cushion of the blankets. I really could get used to this. As I looked around the bedroom, an uncomfortable thought dawned on me.
“Liam?” I called, exiting the bedroom and walking back into the living room. He opened one eye, turning his head towards me.
“My name is Amos, Agnes,” he said gruffly. “You’ve got to start using your alias.”
“Okay, Amos. There is only one bedroom and two of us." Liam's face was impassive. "I mean, we're only pretending to be married. We can't share a bed." Liam opened his other eye, and his eyebrow quirked at this. A pool of warmth spread from my belly to my cheeks. Liam smirked.
"Don't worry, Agnes; I'll be sleeping out here on the couch. Your virtue is safe with me," Liam said, pushing himself up out of the chair. He looked out a window and surveyed the scenery. "Let’s get to the grocery store before this snow gets any worse.”
"Okay!" I agreed quickly. I went into the bedroom to grab the parka from my trunk, and when I got back to the living room, Liam had already donned his. "Let's go," I said, anxious to get out into the snow.
It was a half-mile walk to the village, and I skipped through the snow the whole way there, ignoring Liam's warnings to be a little less conspicuous. When we got to the village, I wasn't surprised to see that most of the businesses were closed, it being Thanksgiving and all. Only the grocery store and a gas station were open, and both of those only until two. I grabbed a cart at the entrance, and we headed for the produce section first, making our way through every aisle and stocking up for the week. When we got to the wine aisle, I grabbed a few bottles, ignoring Liam’s disapproving face. I had some wish fulfillment planned that involved a lot of drinking wine in front of a fireplace, and no one was going to stop me. I pushed our cart to the only open line, and the teenager manning the register smiled at us.
“New in town?” she asked, scanning our items. Liam nodded solemnly, not returning her smile, which faltered at Liam’s scowl.
“Yeah, we’re here on vacation,” I responded, giving her a blindingly friendly smile. Liam was going to attract way more attention by being rude than by being friendly. "I'm Agnes, and this is my husband, Amos."
The teenaged girl raised her eyebrows and shrugged. “Well, welcome to Langdon Falls. I hope you have a nice vacation.” Liam nodded without responding. We finished checking out and left, wishing the cashier a happy Thanksgiving as we went.
“Man, you charmed the pants off of her, Mr. Personality," I said, once we were on the road back to our cabin.
"You were far too friendly," Liam reprimanded. "You need to tone it down. We don’t want to invite too many questions about why we’re here.”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” I said. “But we’re in a remote village in the middle of New Hampshire on a major holiday on the cusp of a major storm. The chances of Jack Nelson finding me here are minuscule.”
“Remember why we’re here in the first place. I can’t keep you safe without your help.” We kept quiet the rest of the way to the cabin, carrying our groceries. We got back to the cabin, and I started loading up the fridge while Liam inspected the fireplace.
“I think I’ll start up a fire for us in here,” he announced to my delight. I grinned broadly as he went outside to a large pile that had been covered with a tarp to keep it from getting wet. I watched from the kitchen window as he lifted the tarp, revealing logs that needed to be split. Liam looked around for an ax and found one leaning against the chopping block. He loaded the first log onto the chopping block and lifted the ax over his head, splitting it in half. He chopped log after log, working up a sweat despite the cold. He shed his parka first, then his flannel shirt, leaving on just a white v-neck tee shirt that clung to him, revealing every inch of his broad chest.
Despite the ridiculousness of this man chopping wood in a tee shirt in the snow, I stared unabashedly, getting hotter and hotter the longer I stared at him. Liam finally finished chopping the firewood and came in through the back door, dumping a stack of wood next to the fireplace. Not wanting him to know I’d been ogling, I busied myself with washing the one glass that I had placed in the sink.
“Enjoying the view?” he asked, looking out at the snowy backyard. I blushed furiously and nodded, playing dumb. I sneaked a glance at Liam's face. He was grinning cockily. He winked, and I threw the dish towel at his chest and shook my head, walking to the fireplace. I arranged three logs in a pile and lit a match, tossing it on top. The fire grew as I watched, hugging my knees while I sat on the hearth.
I watched the fire for over an hour while Liam sat behind me on the couch, finally getting bored and crawling over to the cabinet under the television. I found some DVDs next to a player and held one up to Liam, who nodded disinterestedly. We watched movies on separate couches until I couldn’t contain my yawning anymore. I stood up and stretched.
“I’m going to hit the hay,” I said, using the remote to turn off the television and looking down at Liam.
He nodded. “Okay, have a good night,” he said, crossing his arms and settling further into the couch. I tamped down the twinge of guilt as I walked towards the giant, fluffy, soft king-sized bed and I paused, looking back out at the living room.
“Hey, Liam?” I called softly.
“Yes, Agnes?”
“Happy Thanksgiving," I said. Liam grunted softly, and I smiled. I closed the bedroom door until I heard the lock click softly. I crawled into bed, not bothering to put on pajamas, and was unconscious as soon as I sank into the mattress.