It was a huge gamble and, shit, I’d never been so worried about guessing wrong.
But Olivia... I’d kissed her, I’d slept with her, I’d told her my real name. I had done things with her I wasn’t allowed to while on an op. Shemeantsomething to me, and I was banking on her feelings being similar. I hoped.
“You stupid asshole! Why?” she yelled. I opened my mouth to say something, but she shook her head. “Don’t say a thing, save your air.”
She leaned over, flipped a switch, and shut off the warning, although the light continued to blink like a sickening strobe.
She tried to take off her mask, looking intent on sharing with me, but now it was my turn to shake my head. No one could afford for her to pass out. Her horrified expression was unsettling, so I stared out at the blackness beyond the windshield.
Well, what now?
Should I continue to sit beside her as my lungs began to demand air? I could stumble down the cabin aisle and grab one of the free masks hanging there, but if I left her, she’d shut and lock the cockpit door. I couldn’t trust her. And I wouldn’t be able to keep her safe either.
Ironic that I still wanted to protect her, even as my body screamed inside.
It was the lack of oxygen; that had to be the cause. Myhand closed around Olivia’s, and I tangled my fingers with hers like a goddamn high school boyfriend. I clung to her, seemingly the only thing keeping me present in the moment, and when I was no longer moderately concerned I was going to die, I’d try to examine this action more clearly.
“Pressure’s climbing,” she said, squeezing my hand. My head was full of cement, and my neck was slow to respond when I wanted to look at her. “It’s coming up, just hang on.”
She blurred until I could no longer see and the pounding in my head crushed me with every thud. Okay, the pressure was coming up, but where was the fucking air? Something warm and soft brushed my cheek and I lolled my head into it.
“Ethan,” the lyrical voice whispered.
I blinked. The cockpit sharpened slowly back into focus. Olivia’s oxygen mask was gone, and her lips were beside my ear, whispering my name a second time so softly I thought maybe I had died.
She drew back, appearing concerned. “Are you all right?”
How long had I been out? She was gripping the yellow oxygen mask in her lap, so hopefully it had been momentary. I considered her question. The pounding in my head had dulled but persisted, and I was queasy. Yet I felt steady enough.
“Yeah.”
“Good.” Her expression went cold. “Then get the fuck out of my cockpit.”
The pocketknife was still in my hand, so I shifted in the seat and leaned over her, bringing the knife up. She gasped, cowering beneath me. She feared punishment, but I hadn’t raised the knife for any other reason than to cut down her oxygen mask. Gripping the rubber tubing, I tugged it free from her and flung it away.
“That’s the last idea you have, do you understand?” I muttered. “I’m the one in charge.”
It was amazing how quickly she could slip from fear back into anger. There was pure contempt in her eyes. “I couldhave killed you.”
“And, what? You think I’m not capable of killing?” It came out sneering, and I felt ugly inside. She broke the gaze and stared at her hands on the steering wheel.
“Just go, please.” It was shaky. Her weary shoulders sagged. Exhaustion was overwhelming her.
I swallowed hard. “You know I can’t.”
A noise broke free from her, a frustrated sigh. Her fingers went to her neck, and she yanked the red scarf loose, undoing the button of her collar. “I want to know why.”
“You left me no choice.”
“No, I want to know why he’s so important that you’re okay with other people dying for him, including yourself.”
Part of me wanted to tell her the truth. She already knew more about me than almost anyone else in the world, so why not? She knew where I was from, my real name, some of the places I’d run ops. She also knew I’d killed Constantine Abramo, which was something I’d shared with barely anyone else.
Yet I was pissed with her and my head ached, and that made me refuse to give her what she wanted. “I’ll get you out. After that, I don’t owe you anything.”
She scowled. “No, you sure don’t.”
This time when her gaze returned forward, I knew I wouldn’t get it back on me. I wanted to slam my fist into the dashboard. This was a complicated mess, and if I didn’t lock it down, we were both going to wind up dead.
