Page 123 of Maximum Dare
“Still, I messed everything up.”
“You humiliated yourself in front of our guests. You almost drowned in my swimming pool. That was what you were willing to do to save my youngest. Though it was what you did afterwards that is more compelling. You and Max walked away from each other, so Nick didn’t get hurt.”
The walls seemed to close in and I found it hard to breathe.
The voice on the overhead speaker announced that the store would be closing soon. It said something else, something I didn’t catch.
Gillian raised a hand. “You can only imagine how I feel knowing that Max has spent years in a profession only to keep the memory of my late husband alive, never once thinking of himself. He did it for me and for his father, too.”
I took a deep breath to steady my voice. “He’ll make a wonderful civil rights attorney.”
“He will.” She looked thoughtful. “Do you have a passport?”
“I never use it. I don’t fly.”
“That’s easy to fix.”
“How do you mean?”
“I’ve requested a private plane be made ready at Heathrow.”
My flesh tingled at the thought of flying. “To where?”
“Brazil, of course.”
The room started to spin.
“Mrs. Banham, we’ve been cleared for takeoff.” The middle-aged pilot had addressed Gillian, but he was staring at me with a concerned look on his face.
I was sitting on the metal steps, not moving, trying to remember how to breathe. “I just need a second.” It was a lie.
I wasn’t getting on that plane.
Not now.
Not ever.
The pilot went back inside the jet.
We’d arrived at Heathrow half an hour ago and I’d gotten a taste of how the other half traveled. There were no long lines for customs, no sitting in crowded waiting rooms. I’d been directed right to my flight after a five-minute check-in—all the while trying not to throw up on Mrs. Banham’s Louboutin pumps.
I couldn’t bring myself to walk through the door of that plane—which meant seeing Max wasn’t going to happen. My heart squeezed with the agony of knowing I wouldn’t be able to leap into his arms.
Carl had driven me to my place in Richmond. We’d stopped off just long enough for me to pack a small suitcase and find my passport—a futile half-hour that had been a waste of time, because I was too petrified to move.
Gillian walked down a few steps and sat beside me. “This is because of what happened to your brother, isn’t it?”
Hives scorched my neck, burning my skin.
She wrapped her arm around me. “What can I do?”
“I’m sorry you went to so much trouble.” I rested my palm over my rapidly beating heart, willing it to slow to a normal pace.
“It’s all right,” she said. “I feel the same way about spiders.”
Okay, that was not really the same, but I didn’t say so, as she was clearly trying to comfort me.
A sports car zoomed around a hangar. It came to a stop thirty feet away from the plane, and I saw Nick open the passenger door. I recognized Carl, who’d driven him here.
