Writing a Wrong by Tiffany King

what I had no strength to do—he pulled away.
    "Be careful. Keep the pepper spray on you at all times."
    I smiled. Just like my numerous reminders about Severus, Alec had gone over his safety advice countless times. He wasn't the only one. Each of my brothers put me through refresher self-defense lessons during the last month. I was quite certain that if, God forbid, a situation like I had experienced at the hotel in Tennessee ever happened again, I would be capable of handling myself. "I will. I'll call you when I land," I said, pressing another kiss to his lips even though the airport cop was giving us the evil eye.
    This time it was me who pulled back. I knew if I stayed, even a moment longer, chances were I wouldn't be able to climb from the vehicle.
    Alec grabbed my suitcases from the back of the jeep and loaded them on a luggage cart. I cringed at the two large cases. I was going to miss the smaller carry-on luggage I normally traveled with.
    With my bag hiked up over my shoulder, I gripped the handle of the cart tightly and pushed it toward the automatic door.
    "Nicole," Alec called out behind me.
    I turned around to face him with my heart in my throat. "Yeah?"
    He was leaning against the side of the jeep with his hands in his pockets. "Knock 'em dead. Remember you're a star. This is your moment," he said, winking at me.
    His words warmed me like a shot of bourbon on a cold day, but it was his wink that made my blood boil like lava. He knew I was a sucker for it.
    "I love you," I said, smiling as I blew him a kiss. I pushed the cart through the door, wanting that moment to be our goodbye.
    The airport was a bustling bevy of activity with people coming and going in every direction. I thought maybe I'd be the only poor sap traveling on New Year's Day, but obviously I was wrong. My good mood faded quickly as I waited in the long line to check my bags. Everyone seemed grumpy with very little patience. Even I couldn't help getting ticked after the couple behind me allowed their kids to run over my heels no fewer than five times with their luggage cart. After the second time they stopped apologizing, like it was no longer a big deal.
    I had to maneuver my body to the side of my cart to keep from screaming something that would have attracted more attention than I cared to get. Not that it would have done any good. The two small children didn't seem to hear a word their parents said. Why would they listen to me? I remained on the bad end of their torment as they swung on the rope barrier that corralled the line, pulling a heavy brass pole down on my recently healed ankle. Where was Olivia when I needed her? She would have already told the parents and their kids to take a flying leap into Fuckville.
    At least I got another dismissive apology after giving their mom a death glare that should have melted the skin from their rotten faces. I debated dumping my latte on their annoying heads, but I decided that would only be a waste of the peppermint deliciousness.
    By the time I made it through check-in and another long line at security, I barely arrived at the gate before the attendant began announcing boarding procedures for my flight. So much for getting any work done. At least my publisher had sprung for a first-class ticket, so I was among the first group of passengers to board the plane. Limping gingerly down the Jetway, I held up the passengers behind me until I reached a waiting flight attendant who helped me to my seat.
    "Mimosa?" she offered as I stowed my shoulder bag under my spacious seat.
    I smiled gratefully. "Yes, please." I situated myself in the wide plush leather seat, glad to be off my sore ankle. I took off my sandal to assess the damage and saw no swelling, thank goodness. Only a small scratch. My gleefulness continued when the demon family from earlier shuffled on board and headed toward the back of the plane—far, far, far away from me. There was a god.
    The flight turned out to be fairly uneventful, which