Son Of The Sheikh. Ryshia Kennie

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      After a minute of that, his bottom lip began to quiver as he lost interest. She guessed that he was realizing that despite devouring two cookies on the ride between the hotel and the airport, he was hungry. She dug in her purse for his soother. He was too old for such a thing. That was what the latest parenting book she had read indicated, but they hadn’t mentioned another option for situations such as these. The soother was immediately grabbed up in her son’s chubby hand and popped into his mouth. Her nerves settled slightly. Now she had a few minutes of peace. Time to get them registered and settled in their room.

      She closed her purse, using one hand to steady her son as she juggled the diaper bag that was over one shoulder, along with her carry-on bag and purse. She fisted the hotel pen in an attempt not to drop it when what sounded like outrageously loud fireworks went off behind her.

      She jumped and dropped her purse onto the counter. The hand holding her son remained, instinctively, protectively, there. Someone screamed and a man shouted. The registration clerk jumped back, shock in his dark eyes. Smoke immediately began to fill the room and it was unclear what had happened.

      She pulled her son off the counter, holding him tight against her side, his legs dangling. She turned to see what was going on, and one of the three bags she carried caught on the thin wooden panel that acted as a counter divider. Her carry-on twisted and wrapped around her arm, locking her in position. Smoke was billowing from the corner of the lobby, where the suitcase trolley was, and a small fire was licking at a couple of the bags. The smoke only added to the confusion because minutes earlier, the lobby had been flooded with an influx of tourists that had just gotten off a tour bus.

      There was chaos in the haze, as people began to run for the exit. They pushed through the crowded area where others stood, stunned. She could see that the window that faced the parking lot had been blown out. A bomb, she thought with shock, and then realized that it was an outrageous idea.

      It was seconds before the reality of what had just happened seemed to hit her full-force. They needed to get out of here. Who knew what might follow. There could be another explosion, a larger fire. The situation was unpredictable and dangerous. She’d wasted precious seconds. Her son was in her arms, but her important documents were in the bag caught on the counter. She wasn’t frightened enough to leave the bag behind, at least not yet. For without their passports and travel documents...she couldn’t think of it. But she also couldn’t hold her son any longer and continue to juggle her bags. She put Everett back down on the counter. His hands immediately went over his ears as he sniffled, but didn’t start crying.

      A woman jostled Sara and when the fire alarm began to bleat it was somehow unexpected and she let out a small involuntary scream. Everett immediately followed her example, as he always did, his soother now clutched in his chubby fist.

      Darn it, she thought. But she couldn’t have bit back her reaction, it was as involuntary as every other shriek that had run through the room.

      “It’s all right,” Sara said quickly, not knowing how all right it might be. She held him in place with one hand while with the other she tried to free the caught bag. Her purse banged against her hip as Everett began to wail.

      A short, thick woman pushed past her, herding a trio of children, knocked her elbow and threw her completely off balance. She staggered against the counter and noticed, while not really acknowledging, that all the staff had now vacated their posts.

      A snowy-haired man with a pleasant expression and eyes that crinkled with concern approached her. “Here, let me help you.” He reached for Everett. “Let’s get you out of here,” he said to her son.

      Everett stopped crying long enough to look at the man and held his tiny arms out.

      “No!” The word was sharper, louder and fiercer than she intended.

      She guessed that he didn’t mean any harm. Still, despite everything, she wasn’t taking any chances. The thoughts ran rapidly through her mind and she considered the possibility that he might really just want to help. The offer seemed suspect, but he was from a generation where helping someone with their child was natural. The simple kindness did not place you immediately in a lineup as a suspect to potential kidnapping, as it did today.

      He looked at her and moved to her other side. “I’m sorry. You just looked like you had your hands full.” He reached over and unhooked her bag. “That should help.”

      She looked at him sheepishly. “Thank you,” she said as the man nodded and moved on. And she was thankful in more ways than one, for despite the noise and confusion, Everett had stopped crying.

      She lifted her son, who, at thirty-two pounds, was a good size for a two-year-old. Normally she had a stroller, but that was somewhere with the luggage, what might be left of it. She had no choice but to carry him.

      “It’ll be all right,” she whispered to him and wasn’t sure if that helped. She was just glad he hadn’t let out a howl of outrage. Instead, his arms were around her in a death grip and he was sucking his soother again. If her arms stopped shaking she’d be all right. But the man was right about one thing—they needed to get out of here. The smoke was swirling through the lobby, making it almost impossible to see to the other side, where their luggage was, or to her left, where the exit was.

      She moved forward. She meant to follow the crowd to the exit, when the stairwell door opened and people streamed out as they began to come down from the upper floors. The hotel lobby was suddenly not just busy but congested to the point that no one could move. Everett twisted in her arms, trying to get down, and with her arms still shaking, his squirming made him difficult to hold. The soother was gone. It must have dropped. She looked down but there was nothing but smoke and chaos. He began to cry, she imagined more from frustration than fright.

      “No, sweetie. You can walk once we’re outside.” She tightened her grip as his cries threatened to match the noise of the fire alarm.

      “Ma’am,” the concierge said, taking her by the elbow. “You’ve got to leave now. Get the little one out of here.”

      “Yes,” she agreed as she fumbled, the pull on her elbow the final straw to her already shaky grip that was weakening the more Everett squirmed.

      “Mama!” he yelled.

      “We’re going, Ev. We’re going.” But she wasn’t so sure as Everett twisted again and slid halfway down her chest.

      The concierge had already moved on, unaware that his actions had loosened her hold on her son. She struggled to get a better grip on him, but he was slipping further. It was all made worse by the crowd as they jostled them this way and that. Someone knocked her left side and this time she lost her grip. She didn’t have any choice but to either drop Everett, or set him down.

      She placed him on the ground, her hand on his shoulder as she stood up. But the split second between that and when she reached down to take his hand found her fishing for air. She looked down. In the space of a second he had disappeared. There was nothing but a sea of people amidst the chaos of noise and smoke. Her heart raced.

      A woman screamed.

      To her right, in a thick cloud of smoke, something tipped and crashed to the floor. There was another scream. This time she realized that it was her. Panic threatened to engulf her. She couldn’t let it. She had to find Everett.

      Through a break in the smoke, she could see that the flames were licking one corner СКАЧАТЬ