Page 64 of Mile High Ruin

“You don’t have to.”

“I know.”

She looks at me for a moment as though she wants to argue simply because she objects to how easily I keep getting my way.

Then she gives up. “It’s in the crew storage near the front.”

“I know where you left it.”

Her eyes narrow. “Very funny.”

I leave the room before she can come up with something sharper.

The main cabin becomes noticeably quieter when I appear.

Marek is seated where I left him, nursing a glass of vodka with the expression of a man who has been waiting patiently for entertainment. Anton has Hale restrained in one of the forward seats, his wrists secured with plastic ties behind his back. The captain looks substantially worse than he did before, although I have not touched him again.

A disappointing degree of self-control.

I retrieve Sloane’s bag from the crew compartment.

Camille watches me. “Is she all right?”

“She will be.”

“Do you need me to go to her?”

“No.”

Her eyes flick toward the bag in my hand. “All right.”

I bring it back to Sloane. She’s sitting against the headboard now, blanket pulled over her legs. When I give her the bag, she opens the front pocket and removes a small packet of tablets and a bottle of water.

“What are those?”

She looks at me. “You are remarkably nosy for someone who spent most of our flights together acting like I was beneath his notice.”

“I never acted as though you were beneath my notice.”

“You criticized my handbag within thirty seconds of meeting me.”

“It was incorrectly stored.”

She pops two tablets into her palm.

“What are they?” I ask again.

“Painkillers.”

“For your face?”

“And my head.”

“You said you didn’t have a headache.”

“I didn’t then.”

My concern must show because she immediately adds, “It’s mild. I’m fine, Vadim. Really.”