Years of Waiting

Heath's POV

I've been at the airport for two hours. I waited patiently for the arrival of Miss Shiloh Hansen. I left Arcadia Valley at five o'clock in the afternoon because I needed to be in Brisbane before the plane they boarded landed. I arrived at the airport at two in the morning. In these two hours waiting for the arrival of Miss Hansen, I took a chance to take a nap so I would have the energy for another nine-hour drive later.

The moment I heard the coming airplane, I stood up from the seat I was seated in and went to the arrival area. It will only take thirty minutes or less, and all passengers will be coming out.

I could recognize her anywhere, even if I saw her in person. The pictures I have in my hand will help. I have different pictures of her. In different shots, she wears different clothes and is in different places. I memorized her face from all different angles. She's beautiful, but sorry, I needed her for her father's debt. She's the payment for it.

I could see them from the place where I was standing. She is with her nanny; she has been with her since she left their mansion. Another identification is that she is the Shiloh I was waiting for. Some photos were sent to me along with her nanny. And besides, I have seen her nanny a long time ago. Maybe she gets older, but nothing much has changed in her features. Same body, same face, same color. Her nanny, a beautiful African American, is, if he is not mistaken.

I noticed that they went to the customer service area, but they were pointed to the store counter. 

Why? I watch them from afar.

I noticed that her nanny had no luggage in tow after that little conversation at the store counter. She hugs Shiloh; then she turns and leaves. Where is she going? Why does she have to leave her ward? As far as I know, they never parted. Not even once. What's that supposed to mean? I am wondering about this nanny and the woman parting ways.

I could see that Shiloh was pulling her luggage; she was looking around; it seemed like she was scanning the place. I could see that she was walking to a bench. So, she's looking for a seat to stay, I thought. This is my chance. With quick, long strides, I move towards her direction. We reach the bench at the same time. We both sit down at the same time too. She looks at me questioningly but doesn't voice why I sit on the same bench when there are many vacant seats, as I interpret it.

"Follow me, Miss Shiloh," I whisper.

I could feel when she jerked. She stares at me with that same piercing eye from fifteen years ago.

"I don't know you, Mister. Don't try to scare me; I'm not scared of you," she said through gritted teeth.

"Really? Don't try to make any moves that attract people's attention, or you'll," I pushed the knife a little harder in her side, "have a faucet in your side."

She looks up, tensed and horrified.

"What do you want? I don't have much money with me, but if you could follow me to the ATM, I will withdraw some for you," she said in her quivering voice.

She is paler in her already pale skin.

"I don't need your money, Señorita. I just want you," I said and took off my jacket and wore it to her so that no one would notice what's in my hand.

I pull her up. 

"Stand up and go with me. Don't create any commotion, or I will do what I said. Hug me like we're a couple. And walk naturally," I said, taking her right hand and placing it on my waist.

While my left hand with a knife is in her waist and my right is pulling her luggage. In the eyes of the people who see them, they're a normal loving couple. It could be interpreted that I picked her up from the airport after her traveling.

I could feel her soft body pressed against my side. She was shaking, but I didn't care; all I wanted was to get away from the airport back to Arcadia.

I guide her down to the basement where I parked the black van.

We reach the parking van. I opened the sliding door and put her luggage in the back seat. I opened the front door and asked her to get in.

"Get in!" I order her.

She follows. When she was seated, I put on the seatbelt for her. And I get a padlock from the compartment and lock her seatbelt. I made a hole in the buckle yesterday when I received a call that she was coming home with her nanny.

Her shocked eyes glared at me, but she never said anything.

"I just want to make sure you can't run away from me," I said emotionlessly. 

Then I went to the driver's seat and started the engine. I realize that her hands are free; she can do something that possibly causes them harm. I take out my handkerchief and tie her hands connected to the buckle. She protested, but I am stronger than her. Even if she screamed, no one would hear her. The van is closed, and the air conditioning is in full. After I tied her hands, I put back my jacket to cover her. Satisfied with her position. I step on the accelerator and drive out from the basement parking lot to the wide road.

It will be another nine-hour drive. That's why I didn't waste an opportunity to take a nap when I arrived earlier at the airport. I needed it for this long drive.

I brought more than enough water, some biscuits and candies, and even chewing gum; I needed something to chew on to keep me awake. And even this van I pumped it full tank before I entered the airport area. The next refill will take more than half of their journey.

I glanced at her side. I know she's thinking about how she could ask for help. She is just waiting for the opportunity. I bet she will scream later at the gas station. But I will never let that happen.

I waited patiently for this moment to come. This waiting has become a part of my life. For fifteen years, I have been praying for our paths to cross. And this is the answer to my prayer.