SWNOVELS Passenger Princess: Chapter 14
It’s been a full week on tour with Ava, and everything has been going as smoothly as could be expected. It seems we’ve come to some kind of truce where she doesn’t try to drive me up a fucking wall at every opportunity, and I try to quell my urge to be a standoffish dick at all times.
The system isn’t perfect, but she hasn’t given me that annoyed face in a while—the one where she puts her hands on her hips and glares at me—so I’m calling it a win.
Each event goes as smoothly as I can expect, with Ava staying on her best behavior and not running off to talk to any random stranger or behaving in some crazy way that would shine a poor light on the organization. As an additional bonus, even though she’s insisted on having me take part in the entire event, including the pottery painting in Rhode Island and rock climbing in Massachusetts, she’s cut back on the flirting.
Maybe she just needed to get more comfortable with me; maybe it was just a defense mechanism since I was being such an ass and making her think I hated her.
Whatever it is, I’m grateful, and it’s going to make this assignment much easier.
“I need to use the bathroom,” I say, leaning down to say the words quietly. “Stay here. There’s a guard right there, one of the Five Star men, if you need anything at all,” I say, tipping my chin at the man standing near a door at a non-profit fundraiser Willa Stone, another client of Five Star, is also attending in New Hampshire.
Ava salutes, the smile on her lips doing something to me. “Sir, yes, sir,” she says.
Instead of responding, I turn and walk away, knowing better by now than to encourage her.
When I come back to the room, the number of people has greatly reduced, despite my only being gone for a few moments. Unfortunately, when I scan the room, I don’t see pink and feathers.
“Where the fuck is she?” I grumble, moving toward Miss New Hampshire, the last person I saw her speaking with. “Hey, have you seen Ava?” I ask.
Her head swivels around the room. “I haven’t. I was talking with her a few minutes ago, then she looked out the front door and said she’d be right back.”
Something in my gut churns, a panic building at losing Ava. Where the fuck was the other guard? When I look around, I see him in a corner, flirting with some chick, and my hands ball up into fists.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I say to myself, then give a smile to the pageant queen, thanking her for her help before moving toward the large glass double doors with a street and sidewalk visible.
I’m going to fucking kill her.
Stepping out to the front of the restaurant, I look around and see…nothing.
There are a few people wandering, but none look like they’re from the event, much less Ava. I move, jogging down the street with my eyes scanning and a million thoughts of what could have happened to her running through my mind.
Someone kidnapped her.
Someone hurt her.
Someone has her cornered, and she’s in trouble.
She’s scared.
Something about that one makes my stomach drop—the idea of sweet Ava with her wide smiles and her sweet flirting scared.
As I run, every worst-case scenario pounds through my mind, but I see nothing. After a few minutes, I turn, run in the other direction, and stop in the restaurant again.
“Jake!’ I shout at the other security guard, who is still fucking flirting. His head moves my way, and he slowly walks toward me, not a care in the world.
“Hey man, what’s—” he starts with a smile, stopping when he sees my face. “What’s wrong?”
“What the fuck’s wrong? I told you to watch my mark for two fucking minutes, and now Ava’s missing.”
“Ava?” It takes everything in me not to hit him, but I don’t have time for that, so I don’t. “Miss Americana. Jesus Christ.“
A bit of color drains from his face, and he looks over his shoulder, checking to see if his mark, Willa Stone, is still in the building. He relaxes when it’s’ confirmed.
How the fuck is Greg threatening my job when he’s employing assholes like this?
“Have you done a search?” he asks like I’m a fucking moron. He can’t be older than twenty-five, and again, I have to wonder what kind of idiots my new boss is hiring because I know he wasn’t someone Hank hired before he sold the company.
“Jogged a quarter mile that way,” I say with a tip of my head. “Going the opposite way next. Can you just do a search of the immediate area?”
“Of course, of course. On it,” he says.
Without another word, I leave the building, heading the way I haven’t checked yet. I’m trying to think of the next steps, who I need to call, and what to tell the police when I hear it.
“You’re a good girl, aren’t you?” a voice says quiet and sweet, and my feet stop moving altogether, looking 360 degrees to find where the voice is coming from, but there’s nothing. No one.
For a moment, I think I imagined it in my panic before I hear her voice again.
“Oh my goodness, you’re just so sweet!”
I turn to my left, spotting a small alleyway three buildings down from the restaurant.
“Come on, let’s go find the big guy,” Ava’s voice says, and then suddenly, golden blonde hair catches the light, a pink bow holding it back. I move quicker, closing the gap between us.
“Where the fuck were you?” I say, stepping closer to her and grabbing her elbow, moving her with a little force, though I want to absolutely shake the woman.
I guide her toward the restaurant, seeing Jake, the dipshit, on the sidewalk, hands on his hips, looking around as if he’s going to find Ava that way.
‘I got her,’ I say, and he nods.
‘Sorry, man, I—’
‘Not a word,’ I say.
‘Please don’t tell Greg, man,’ he starts.
‘Get your shit together. Go find your assignment and make sure she’s safe. And for the love of fuck, stop flirting with chicks while you’re on the clock,’ I say, and he nods, panic in his eyes, but he doesn’t move. ‘Now. We’re leaving.’
‘Of course, see ya, man. Sorry,’ he says, then runs back into the restaurant where I can see Willa chatting with someone through the window.
Sighing, I once again guide Ava to the parking lot.
“Hey, what the hell? I wanted to say goodbye to everyone!” she pouts, holding her big bag close to her body.
“Everyone thinks you’re fucking missing because you couldn’t follow one fucking instruction.”
“Oops,” she says through a cringe of a smile. “My bad.” It’s clear she doesn’t think this is a big deal, that she often gets out of trouble with a cute smile and a faux apology.
Unfortunately for her, I don’t find this or her disappearing act cute.
“This is why we listen when I say to stay in place. You got your shit?” I ask. She looks at the giant bag over her shoulder with hesitation, then nods before I navigate her in silence until we reach the SUV. Unlocking the door, I open it to let her inside.
That’s when I see it.
A tiny pair of…ears pop up in her bag.
I stare at the ears, then at Ava, then back to the ears, a dull orangey color, then back at Ava before closing my eyes, rubbing a hand down my face, and taking a deep breath.
“What the fuck is that?” I ask, my body exhausted to the bone as I stare at the bag over her shoulder where the head of a tiny cat with bent ears is poking out, big eyes wide, looking around like this isn’t weird at all.
A cat.
In her bag.
“The reason I went missing?” she asks in question with a nervous smile. “My new mascot?” Instantly, I shake my head. “Oh, absolutely the fuck not.”
Ava’s eyes go as wide as the cat’s as she pouts. “Come on, she’s so cute! And she was all alone. I couldn’t just leave her!”
“You absolutely could have. You should have. Now we need to find a shelter—” I say, pulling out my phone again. The woman is going to be the end of me, that much is for sure.
“No!” she says, tugging the bag closer and, in turn, the kitten. “No. I’m keeping her.”
My head moves to look at her again. “The fuck you are.”
“Just look at her!” She lifts the grimy, dirty kitten out of her bag, holding it like it’s a baby rather than a grimy cat she found on the street. “She’s just a baby! She needs a mom!”
“Her mom was probably in the fucking alleyway where you kidnapped her from.”
Suddenly, she goes from eager to annoyed in the blink of an eye.
“I did not kidnap her, thank you very much. She came right up to me, walked into my hand, and jumped into my bag. Clearly, she wanted to be with me.”
“How did you find her?”
“I saw her scurry across the sidewalk,’ she says with a cringe. ‘I know, I know you told me to stay, but just look at her. She’s so sweet.”
‘We have to call a shelter,’ I say.
Her eyes go wide and pleading, a hand reaching out as she grabs me, stopping my hand from moving anymore. “No, Jaime. No! Please. I love her. I need her. She was meant to be mine! She fits the entire aesthetic.”
I take a deep breath. “You can’t just keep a stray cat because she fits your aesthetic.”
‘Why not?’
“Because…you can’t. And what if she’s someone else’s cat, Ava?” I ask, my voice a bit softer because she’s getting upset now, eyes going wide and watering, and I don’t need a crying woman on my hands.
It’s absolutely not because she’s endearing and I don’t like that sad look on her face.
“I’ll bring her to a vet tonight! We’re off anyway, we don’t have a rush. You said we won’t leave for the next stop until tomorrow afternoon. I’ll bring her to a vet, and they’ll scan her for a chip or whatever. But just look at her, Jaime. Do you really think this is someone’s house pet?”
The kitten is underfed, dirty, and has a cut on her ear. It’s clear, at the very least, she’s been out on the streets for a good part of her short life.
“Please, Jaime?” Somehow, her big blue eyes go wider, her pout getting bigger, and it’s like she’s putting a spell on me.
I sigh, my entire body going loose. “Are you fucking kidding me?” I ask, but this time I ask it to the sky.
God doesn’t answer.
I tip my head back down and look at Ava for long moments, trying to weigh my options before I sigh again and speak. “Find a vet.”
“Really!?” she says, excitement filling her face.
“We’re on the road by 4 p.m. tomorrow,” I say with a glare, my attempt at being stern that I’m sure goes right over this woman’s head. “If you can’t get that…thing situated by then, she goes to a shelter.”
“Jaime, I can’t just give her up. Look how much she loves me.”
“And she’ll love whoever gets her from the shelter if you can’t ensure she doesn’t have any kind of fucking disease.”
One hand goes to her hip, the other holds the cat, and she stares me down. “But if she doesn’t, you’re saying I can keep her?”
I feel as if she’s a little kid who found a stray and is begging her parents to let her keep it, but I guess that’s what’s happening. I stare at her, her eyes wide with pleading, then to the kitten, somehow already asleep in her hands.
“Jesus fucking Christ.” I shift my gaze back at her once more, her face full of excitement and hope.
I can’t crush her.
And really, how much work could a kitten be?
“Yeah. You can keep her if she’s healthy,” I say with a begrudging sigh.
She jumps, waking the cat in her arms, squealing and looping one arm over my neck, holding me close. The smell of brown sugar and vanilla swirls around me as she presses her body to mine, then her lips to my cheek.
“Thank you, Jaime.”