Stolen Innocents (The Shadow Series Book 2) by Addison Kline Read Free Book Online Page B

matters much, either. A young mother and her screaming son had taken the seats next to Angie. The boy had been screaming since they left the airport and Angie thought she was going to start screaming, too.
     
    Somebody shut this kid up!
     
    “Miss… Are you okay?” asked June, an elderly but bubbly stewardess with a Texan accent. 
     
    Angie looked at the stewardess with a forlorn expression on her face.
     
    “I need alcohol.”
     
    “Well, here’s our menu, honey…”
     
    “Rum and Coke. Keep them coming.”
     
    ***
     
    The plane came to a jarring halt on the runway at Philadelphia International Airport. Angie felt like she was about to lose her lunch, which consisted of a few packs of finely salted peanuts and a half dozen alcoholic beverages. It took forcible measures to remove her still white-knuckled hands from the arms of her seat. Although the plane had landed, Angie didn’t feel much in terms of relief. She knew what lay before her. A three-hour drive to Elkhart with her sisters Misty-Lee and Courtney. She often wondered if all their years of using peroxide to bleach their hair blonde had finally deteriorated their brains. Angie needed to pop an Excedrin to prepare herself for the ordeal.
     
    Angie grabbed her carry-on bag and walked down the center aisle. As she exited the plane, she expected to feel some sense of relief. After all, she wasn’t thirty thousand feet in the air anymore. Strangely enough, she was even more stressed out after disembarking the plane. If anything, Angie felt more nervous now that she was closer to home. Closer to the demons of her past.
     
    The airport was packed with travelers and Angie felt disoriented thanks to her cocktails and a minor case of jet lag. She looked up at the sign that hung from the ceiling as she weaved through the maze of an airport in search of her luggage. Angie walked for what felt like miles through the crowded airport. Finally, she found the baggage claim area, and she waited patiently for her luggage to come shooting down the conveyor belt. As Angie bent down to grab her suitcase, she heard them.
     
    “Like! Oh, my God, Misty! Is that her?!” shouted Courtney in her rage-inducing Valley Girl accent.
     
    “No. That can’t be her. She looks so old!” insisted Misty-Lee.
     
    “Umm… No… I think it is her! She’s what like forty now?!”
     
    “Thirty-seven I think.”
     
    Angie rolled her eyes as she listened to her dim-witted sisters argue over her identity. If Angie thought their voices were embarrassing, it was nothing compared to the way they were dressed.  Misty-Lee’s peroxide dyed blond hair was crimped and fried by years of damage and mistreatment. Her fluorescent orange mesh shirt hung off of her right shoulder exposing her tan lines. She completed her ensemble with a pair of too-tight, too-short jean shorts and a pair of pink and orange sneakers. Meanwhile, Courtney was wearing a pair of skin tight flare jeans with a black tank top and noisy sandals. Her stick straight blonde hair was cut at an angle, but instead of looking stylish, she just looked slightly lopsided. Angie decided to put them out of their misery and wave.
     
    “Over here, girls…” Angie called, waving her hand at her sisters.
     
    Angie watched as Misty-Lee whispered to Courtney, “Oh, my God, Court! It is her!”
     
    Suddenly the pair let out screams of excitement as they sashayed across the linoleum floor. It was like watching a tornado comprised of bright colors, bad hair and fake nails racing towards you. Angie stared at them with wide eyes, mortified to be seen in public with them. Angie tried to look happy to see them, but the end result was that she looked horrified.
     
    “Oh, my God, Angie! Look at you!” cried Misty-Lee.
     
    “You look…” Courtney started.
     
    “Old?” Angie suggested, recalling their previously made comments.
     
    “No! You look so mature!”
     
    Angie rolled her eyes but couldn’t help but laugh at her