I run. It’s a stupid thing to do—what better way to attract attention than to go sprinting through an airport? But I don’t have any other choice. Nothing I say is going to convince those women to leave me alone, and I’m not going to let go of my escape that easily.
I sprint out the door and dive into the crowd, pushing and shoving people out of my way. My heart pounds so hard that I think my chest might explode. I accidentally knock some guy to the ground, and I hesitate for single second, but then I just keep running.
Ahead, I see the main exit. I still have to get past security, but maybe I can do that. They should be more concerned about people running in than out. So they hopefully will let me by, and then—
Arms wraps around me from behind. I struggle wildly against them, but they’re too strong, and I’m trapped. A stream of profanities erupts from my mouth, and I hope I’m yelling them loud enough for the entire airport to hear.
The arms spin me around, and in a gut-wrenching moment, I realize how familiar the hands feel.
Rough. Indifferent. Angry.
Dad.
I have a single second to take in my dad’s face. He’s glaring down at me, but forcing a smile to appease the people surrounding us. The crowd converges around me. People are pressing in, and my chance at escape is long gone.
My dad keeps his hands on my shoulders as he guides me toward the exit. His grip grows tight, warning me not to try anything else. Tears press against my eyes, but I don’t let them fall. I can’t cry in front of my dad. Even if he’s won, I can’t let him see me break down.
His hands dig into my shoulder blades, and I don’t think he’ll be loosening his grip anytime soon. He talks to the man at the security station, nodding and smiling at all the appropriate times. If I try to look at him objectively, I can see the relieved father happy to have his child back. But I peer closer, and I see the truth all the people around me are missing: he’s only relieved because he has me back under his control. And he’s not happy to see me, not really. He’s just happy he doesn’t have to chase after me anymore, and that his reputation as a good man is secure.
I look around, silently hoping someone else will see the truth in this situation. But the airport security is busy ushering passersby away from me, and I’m left alone with my dad. I see two police officers hurrying toward us, and I let out a quiet curse, which just makes my dad dig his fingers into me harder. I shut up and just glare at the officers as they approach. They’re no doubt friends of my dad who are here to help escort me away from the airport.
My dad spots the officers, and his brows raise in surprise. Then he lets his smile grow, excuses himself from the airport security guard, and turns toward his colleagues. I watch his lips as he greets them: “What are you boys doing here? You’re a little late to the party, you know.” He smiles down at me and pats my shoulder a bit too hard. “I’ve already found my Ali.”
The two officers exchange utterly uncomfortable looks. For a moment, I think they’re just intimidated by talking to their retired chief. But then a girl steps out from the crowd, and none of the security tries to stop her. My breath catches as I recognize her: it’s Avery. Avery’s mom strides forward next, followed by her father. They all look deadly serious as they stand next to the officers.
One of the officers steps closer, his throat bobbing as he swallows hard. He looks my dad right in the eye as he says, “Chief Patterson, sir . . . I’m afraid you’re under arrest.”
I blink a couple times, certain that I’d misread his lips. But then the officer reaches for the pair of handcuffs at his waist, and I realize this is really happening.
My dad smirks, but beneath the cocky expression, I see a tinge of worry. “Come on now. You can’t be serious.”
I hold my breath as I wait for their response. Avery’s parents have tried reporting my dad multiple times, but they’re always brushed off, just like me. So why should this time be any different?
The officer nods curtly. “Yes, sir, I’m very serious.”
My heart stops beating for a long second, and then starts pounding wildly. Holy shit. This is for real.
My dad’s hand tightens on my shoulder until it hurts. “What charges could you possibly be arresting me on?”
A moment of uncertain silence passes, and then the second officer steps forward, finally finding his voice. “Child abuse.”
The worry in my dad’s eyes pushes closer to the surface. “Those charges have already been looked into and dismissed. They’re bogus.”
Avery’s mouth opens in a disbelieving scoff, and she snaps, “We have six people who say differently.”
“Six?”
Everyone turns to me, and I realize I’m the one who blurted out the question. Avery smiles at me and nods. “Yeah, six.”
This makes no sense. The only people who have ever dared to confront my dad are Avery and her parents. Everyone else has always turned a blind eye to my abuse, all of them too scared to face my dad’s wrath. It’s impossible that six people have stepped forward.
“Is this true?” my dad asks the officers.
The first one nods. “Yes, sir.”