Rhys is cursing under his breath. “I swear she never listens.”
“I’m not staying behind. If they’re going to rescue Harper, I’m coming with them.”
“What was that about rescuing my daughter?” Catrina balks, overhearing some part of Nova’s outburst. I’m really hoping it was the last bit about coming with and nothing else.
“I have to go.” I abruptly end the call, hanging up on Catrina.
I can’t tell her the truth, and I hope she doesn’t keep calling and pestering me for answers.
Rhys grabs a set of keys from the house. “Nova, you’re riding with me.”
“I swear if you take me someplace else?—”
“Relax. Anyone else want to ride with us?” Rhys offers and Sophia climbs out of the backseat. “I’ll join you.”
While they’re playing games picking who rides in what vehicle, I’m grumbling and growing more irritated with every passing second. “Can we go already?”
Ashton waits until Rhys is out of the way and then hits the gas, using GPS to take us to the small airstrip nearby.
I’ve never had the luxury of riding on a private plane, and to be honest, I really hope I don’t have to do this ever again. One abduction is far too many.
I board the airplane, and as if on cue, Jack, Harper’s father, calls me. I send the call straight to voicemail and shut off my phone. It’s not like I can do much with it on during the flight. Dante has assured me that he’ll let me know if Harper reaches out during the short flight—he has my phone being transferred directly to him.
That will be boatloads of fun if Jack and Catrina keep pestering Dante.
Let him deal with Harper’s parents. I don’t have it in me to pretend that everything is all right.
I can barely sit still, my knee bouncing with anxiety as the plane takes off. I’m not a nervous flyer.
It has nothing to do with the plane and everything to do with my concern for my wife. Dante has given us weapons, ammunition, and we have Rhys accompanying us. Of the entire group, he’s the one with the most experience, but his expertise has been playing bodyguard to Nova for all those years growing up.
It doesn’t exactly scream confidence when we’re running into a gunfight.
Ashton is seated across from me, glaring at Rhys across the aisle. “What’s your problem?” Rhys asks.
Ashton’s eyes flicker and he doesn’t say a word.
His hands grip the armrests and his nostrils flare.
Is he—jealous?
Ashton doesn’t have to worry; nothing is going to happen between Rhys and Nova.
Once we’ve reached cruising altitude, Ashton stands and stalks across the aisle, hovering over Rhys, who is seated next to Nova. “You’re in my seat.”
Rhys straightens his shoulders and takes a long, slow look at Ashton. “And. Your point?”
Nova unclasps her seatbelt and pushes past both of them. “Take my seat.”
Ashton reaches for Nova’s arm, but she pulls away before he can touch her, stalking toward the back of the plane. The private jet isn’t that large, and she sits next to Sophia in the aisle seat.
Ashton follows Nova, not taking a hint, and I glance over my shoulder as he sits behind me, directly across from her.
Ashton keeps his voice low, and I lean back, trying not to overhear their conversation. “Can we talk?”
So much for any ounce of privacy.
“No!” she shouts at him.
