by Mitch Goth
Kellen tried to do everything fast, knowing it wouldn't be much longer until Ezra was out on the streets again. She rushed to her apartment and gathered random clothes, most of them just basic work attire. Other than clothes, Kellen ignored most things. The only thing of importance was getting to Texas, no matter how much her mind and heart both screamed at her to turn around and just fall into herself forever.
It wasn't until she reached the airport that she could have a moment to make the call to Remi. The moment was short lived, as several men in dark suits and uniformed Texas State Police troopers found her and lead her out across the busy, loud tarmac and onto a small, yet rather luxurious private jet. It was no doubt something the governor owned privately rather than anything the state would acquire. But, she had no time nor mind space to absorb much else about the plane other than the fine leather seat she was sitting in and the spotless mahogany table in front of her.
Once the troopers and suited men had gone up to the front to talk with the pilots, Kellen found her chance. For a moment she waited to ensure no one would come back to interrupt her. As soon as she was certain all was clear, she pulled out her phone and made the call, praying her therapist was by her phone.
"Hello?" Remi answered, sounding puzzled.
"Remi," Kellen spoke in a loud, gruff whisper, trying to make sure no one else on the plane overheard her anguish. "I've got a problem, and I'm not sure what to do."
"What's wrong, Kellen?" Remi's tone turned from confused to concerned. "Are you okay?"
"I'm on a private jet, on my way to Texas." Kellen paused and thought over her next sentence, shutting as the words passed through her brain. "I'm on my way to pick up Ezra Grazer."
"I'm sorry, did you say, 'pick up'? What does that mean?"
"It means the fucking psycho got furlough. He's out to the world, and it's my job to watch him!"
"What? Why on earth would they put you in charge of that?"
"Ezra asked for me to be his escort, by name. And right now, the state is in no mood or position to spend time arguing with him. So that's my situation. My job has evolved from catching killers to babysitting them, and I'm not sure what to do. I can't get out of this, so how am I supposed to get through it?"
"Most of my patients don't have issues like this. Most call and tell me they're feeling bad or depressed, not that they're about to walk shoulder-to-shoulder with a serial killer. I need to think about this for a second."
"Please, Remi, you've gotta give me something. The plane is gonna leave soon." Kellen noticed a new sound filling the cabin. The familiar high-pitch of an engine coming to life. "Please, tell me something."
"I've taught you a lot of ways to stay calm during our time together. Use everything I taught you and don't lose the center of your mind. Keep yourself focused and calm, no matter what. Okay?"
"Easier said than done, but okay," Kellen said. She wasn't sure how much longer the plane would be stationary, so she was glad Remi was giving her something to work on.
"If you need anything, call me. We'll get you through this."
Remi's soothing tones always calmed Kellen down. "Okay, thank you, Remi."
"Just remember all the techniques I taught you, Kellen. Focus on breathing, shut out the stressors, bring your focus into you, not on anything outside. Remember it all, you'll get through this just fine."
"I guess I just needed some reassurance."
"Well, at least I'm at least an over-paid source of assurance."
This managed a small, quiet laugh out of Kellen. "Thank you, Remi, really. Expect a few calls, if I'm not too busy or having a massive mental breakdown."
"Call me if you have the latter. And no need to thank me, Kellen, it's my job to keep you collected and safe." There was a short pause. "Safe from your mind anyway. You'll get through this just fine. It's a short span I'm sure, and then he'll go back to prison and you never have to see him again."
"Right, never again," Kellen muttered to herself, but she figured Remi would overhear it anyway.
"You be safe, understand?"
"Yeah, thanks," Kellen hung up and leaned back in her seat. It was comfortable, but it didn't soothe her. The only thing that could do that was the voice of her therapist.
One of the dark-suited men poked his head back into the passenger cabin. "We're about ready to head down. You ready?"
"Not really, but I'm here," Kellen said. The man nodded at her and she nodded back as he disappeared back up into the front of the plane. This was it. In a few minutes they'd be on their way to Texas. She'd be on her way to a free and unbridled Ezra Grazer.
13
