AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“The mastermind of what?”
“We don’t know yet, but we will.” There’s a knock on the window.
“We’re clear,” Eric says. “Let’s move.”
He opens the door and exits the SUV, cold air gushing in through the open vehicle. I resist the chill, but my realization that we couldn’t even afford the time for me to pack has me worried we might have been followed. A thought that has me quickly scooting across the seat to catch up with Eric. He’s waiting on me and all but pulls me out of the backseat, a hint of urgency radiating off of him as I settle onto the pavement, but not the cloak of darkness. The night is bright, illuminated by a full, rather ominously lookingorange moon. I shiver as a cold gust of wind envelopes me, glancing up as I do to find a star shooting dart across the sky.
Eric pulls me close, under his arm, setting us in motion toward the plane, while his big body is a shelter against the wind; shelter that he doesn’t seem to need, considering like me, he has no coat, not even his suit jacket he left in the warehouse. We start walking toward the plane, and I quickly scan for the star again. It’s gone, but I make a wish anyway:Please keep everyone safe and alive.It’s the only wish that matters. It’s the only wish I’d dare make. We cross the tarmac and Eric halts us by the stairs where Adam awaits. “I’ll plug into the internet in the air,” Eric says. “Update me.”
Adam, who is big, broad, and the definition of tall, dark, and deadly. “Of course. And our team will have support waiting for you when you land.”
Eric inclines his chin and refocuses on me. “Let’s get inside, baby.” He urges me up the narrow stairs and I begin the climb, eager to escape the wind. Relieved with Eric at my back, a protector that I never expected him to be, and never would have asked him to be. A protector to my mother, who hasn’t been kind to him. A protector to—
I stop at the top of the stairs and step into the plane, backing up to let Eric join me. “What about Gigi?”
His teeth clench. “What about her?”
“She and I—”
“Don’t finish any sentence that begins that way. Not with you and Gigi connected. I’m not in the mood.” He pulls me roughly to him. “Walker’s watching everyone.” He turns me to the plane. “I need to talk to the pilot,” he says. “I’ll be right there. Go to the back of the plane.”
With that gruff order, I pant out a breath. This is not starting well. I run my fingers through my hair and start walking down the narrow path, eyeing the fancy plane with luxury cream-colored recliners and tables left and right without really seeing it. I’m focused on the engines firing up already, a sign we’re wasting no time getting into the air. A sign of urgency, of a sense of danger. This hastens my pace, all the way to the rear of the plane, to a set of recliner-style seats I assume will allow us to lay back and sleep, as if I could sleep right now.
I claim one of them and sit down, shivering again and not from the chilly air coming out of the overhead vents. From the evil at play in this family, in my life. I hug myself, trembling in that kindof deep, soul-wrenching way that comes with a fever and illness, but isn’t this family just that? An illness? A sickness I can’t escape, but Eric had. Until I went and pulled him back into this.
Eric joins me almost immediately and he must notice me shivering because he pulls a blanket from an overhead bin. When I expect him to hand it to me, he doesn’t. He wraps it around me and settles on one knee in front of me, his hands on either side of the blanket.
“The Gigi thing—”
“I know. I just—I’m not used to war games, and death isn’t exactly my friend.”
“No one is going to die. And I shouldn’t have left you tonight,” he says, and I know he’s not talking about the plane. He’s talking about back at the office. He’s talking about our fight. “Ididn’tleave, not for long. I went back for you and I’m here now, but I fucked up. I let Isaac get to me tonight.”
“What did he say to you?”
“It doesn’t matter what he said. I listened to him and I reacted rather than asking you questions first. And I regret it. You could have been hurt. I keep telling myself Adam was there, watching you, and you would have been fine, but just thinking about what could have happened to you guts me.” His tone is guttural. He’s affected. He’s worried.I’maffected and worried. I have questions. I have fears, and not just about the attack, but the attack is what he’s brought to my mind. I’m suddenly back in the dark warehouse, firing that gun.
The plane starts to move.
“Buckle up,” he orders. “We’ll talk in the air. We’re flying through a storm the pilot hopes we’ll get past quickly.” He stands up and when he would move away, he leans down and brushes his mouth over my mouth and his lips are warm and wonderful. “No one is going to hurt you,” he promises. “I won’t let that happen. I got you now. You’re with me.” But even as he issues that vow, his hands fall away from me, and every warm spot he’s created goes cold as he moves to his seat next to me and across the tiny walkway.
I inhale and replay his words:When I think what could have happened to you.And:No one is going to hurt you.
Ice slides deep into my already chilled bones, turning them brittle. I can feel myself quaking inside, like some kind of internal tremble, and I can’t seem to breathe. He really thinks those men were there to kill me.
Chapter forty-six
Harper
Igrip the arms of my seat as the small private plane lifts off and climbs to the higher altitudes with jolts, jumps, and shakes, with only one thought:Oh God, please don’t let us crash.I’m terrified and not because I’m an amateur flier. I’m not. I’ve flown. I’ve even flown in bad conditions, but nothing like this, with the plane jerking, violently pulling and pushing, but I can surmise why pretty darn quickly. Pilots don’t take off in conditions like this. Eric paid this one, and I suspect paid him well, to get us off the ground. Considering the conditions, I can only assume that he felt it was far more dangerous to stay where we were than travel in treacherous weather.
We jerk violently to the right and I stop analyzing Eric’s reasoning for taking off in this mess. I focus on praying that we survive the powerful gust of wind, punching us from both sides. The plane seems to hopscotch and my white-knuckled grip tightens right as we jerk sharply left and then drop a good two feet that leaves me gasping.
Eric reaches over the small aisle and grabs my hand, his touch strong and warm. The minute he tightens his grip on me, I breathe out the air trapped in my lungs. I breathe when I thought I couldn’t. That’s the power this man has over me, and it’s almost as terrifying as this flight.
He rotates his chair to face me when I’m pretty sure it’s supposed to be locked. Next, he does the same with mine, and turns me to face him. My seat tries to sway with the bumping of the plane, and he quickly holds onto it while leaning in and locking me back into place. Now we’re closer, and thanks to his long legs, our knees touch, while those blue eyes of his hold mine, his hands settling on my knees. “I’ve flown through hell and back with a lot less skill controlling the plane. We have a military pilot. A man who flew ina combat mission while under heavy fire. He’s good. Really damn good.”
“Which is why you paid him to take off inreallybad weather,” I say and I can’t keep the accusation from my tone.
