Page 11 of My Last Dance

Right before my hand could grab the material, something barreled into my side, knocking me completely off my feet.

I smacked to the hard airport ground with a loud thud. Pain bloomed at the back of my head and all down the side of my body.

“Stop her,” I croaked out before black seeped into my vision,taking me under.

_________

A half hour later, I was sitting in some kind of medical area of the airport, holding ice packs to the back of my head and my hip, feeling frustration eating me alive from the inside out as I dialed the one and only number I had memorized.

“Mer?” I croaked.

“Piper?” she asked, her voice sounding groggy. Now I felt really bad because I definitely woke her up. “Are you back in Chicago?”

“No.” I held my mouth for a second to keep my shit together.

“Where are you?” she asked, sounding alarmed. I heard her smacking someone awake, probably Colt. “Babe,” she said to him. “Get up.”

I swallowed hard. “I was getting on a connecting flight, but this lady stole my purse. It has everything in it, my phone, wallet, keys, license, even my fucking passport, Mer.”

“Oh my God,” she gasped. “Where are you?”

“What? What happened? Everyone okay?” Colt mumbled, sounding only half-awake.

“Detroit, DTW,” I blubbered out, feeling helpless.

“Colt, where’s Kappy?” I heard her ask.

“Huh?” he asked.

“Kappy,” she snapped impatiently at her husband. “Where is he?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Colt mumbled. “Went home.”

“Kappy’s there,” Mer said, her voice full of hope.

“Kappy?” My heart squeezed painfully in my chest as I caught sight of my own reflection. I was a disheveled mess. My hair was back to its natural half-curly, frizzy state from this morning’s rain and dirty water tidal wave, and my face was void of makeup. This was probably the first time my eyes had been bare in public since the eighth grade. He couldnotsee me like this.

“Yeah, Kappy’s visiting his mom. He’s there. He can help you! Or else I can jump in the car right now—”

“No,” Colt and I said at the same time. “You’re pregnant, Mer,” I added. She found out she was pregnant at her wedding a couple weeks ago. That was another reason I felt guilty living in Montrealthe last two months: I was missing my best friend’s pregnancy.

“So what? I’m not dead,” she argued. “It’s only a four-hour drive.

“Mer, it’s late at night, I don’t want you to do that. I’ll just get to one of my parents’ hotels.”

She paused. “How?”

She was right. I had nothing. No phone, no money, no ID. The reality of this mess finally sank in. “Shit,” I muttered under my breath.

“Kappy will come help you,” she assured me.

I squeezed my eyes shut. “I don’t want his help,” I whispered.

“But do you need it?” she asked gently.

“Yes.” I sighed, hating the desperation clawing at my throat. “But he hates me, Mer.”

“No, he doesn’t, Piper.”

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