He flung a set of keys at Ethan then turned his attention to his phone, waving for us to go out onto the runway.
It was sometime after five in the morning, and the horizon had begun to lighten with the impending sunrise, but the November air was chilly. There wasn’t anyone waiting for us at the base of the stairs, just as Gio had said. This way, Ethan could unload the bodies.
“Do I run?” I whispered when we were clear of the plane. It couldn’t be this easy, could it?
“No, we stay together.” His cold hand clasped my wrist, preventing me from going anywhere. “You’re going to help me load the bodies into the car.”
“What?”I gasped.
It was hard to keep up with his long strides as he moved toward a sleek sedan parked to the side of the hangar, practically dragging me along. How on earth was I going to do that? The headlights on the car flashed once when he unlocked it and pulled me to the passenger side, my feet clumsy with exhaustion and trepidation.
“How did you get him to stay on the plane?” I asked.
His only answer was to yank open the door and gesture for me to get in. I sat down and watched him dart around the front of the car before getting behind the wheel. He reached beneath the seat and pushed it back as far as it would go, but his knees were still buried in the dash.
“I told him to stay onboard,” he said finally, “so if anyone saw us, he could claim ignorance.”
It took all of thirty seconds for him to pull the car up to the rear of the plane, and my heart bottomed out. I only wanted to remember my friends alive, to not have this horrible final memory.
Ethan’s direct and cold attitude about this act should have bothered me, but I found it oddly distracting and clinical. Like a doctor hurrying efficiently through an unpleasant but necessary procedure.
“Try not to think about it,” he said on a low voice, hoisting Stuart’s body over his shoulder. The trunk of the car popped open when he pressed a button on the key fob.
He placed Stuart in the trunk, and transferred Renzo next. His slow, methodical movements showed he was trying to treat the dead with respect. He didn’t need my help until it was time to move Rory, who weighed considerably more than the other two.
“Can you open the back door?” he asked quietly.
I did. My stomach turned as I grabbed the copilot’s arms to help slide the body in so he was lying on the seat. Maybe feelings of horror would come soon, but I was numb right now.
“No,” he said when I tried to close the door.
His dark gaze made my breath catch. And when he pulled out a knife and took a step toward me, that made my heart stop.
I knew what was coming next.
17
ETHAN
I never hada hard time doing what needed to be done. I was well trained in recognizing the bigger picture, and it had gotten me through the worst of Croatia. But now, there was hesitation in my hands. Worry pooled in her eyes and echoed what I felt.
“It’s okay,” I lied in my most soothing voice. “We’re almost done, but I need you to come here.” I extended a hand, gently asking her. I knew she wanted to run, but she couldn’t. Gio would be able to see us out the cabin windows unless she moved closer.
Her eyes were fixed on my knife. “I will. I just need a minute.”
I didn’t get nervous, but this woman obliterated everything I was used to. I backed off, and the distance between us helped draw her toward the plane. Another step, and I was sure she’d be out of view. “Are you right or left-handed? I’ve seen you use both.”
“I use my right mostly.” She’d stopped moving.
We’d stalled long enough. Time to get on with it. We were probably safe, and I couldn’t miss this tiny window or we’d be completely fucked. I lurched forward, seizing her left wrist before turning her palm up to the sky.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
I dug the knife into the heel of her palm and sliced a line all the way to the base of her fingers. I did it as fast as possible so she wouldn’t jerk and make me cut any deeper than I had to. Thick, red blood sprang from the angry wound.
It wasn’t a scream, just a loud gasp of pain and shock, and she reared back. I used her surprise to gently push her shoulders down and back, so she fell into the back seat, her head narrowly missing the frame of the roof. Lines of red flowed down through her fingers and dripped onto her lap as she sat on her dead copilot’s legs. Her hand was weeping blood, and I pressed it to her stomach.
“Hold it here, tight,” I commanded. “This is where I shot you.”
