Page 135 of The Company

Chapter Fifty-Six - Sasha

Present Day

Some people look peaceful when they sleep.

James Fenici is not one of them.

He doesn’t talk, or thrash wildly from nightmares. Only stupid people do that. Weak people.

James Fenici is not weak. He’s a lot of things, but he’s not weak.

No. James has this little twitch. It’s almost not noticeable, and it only affects the one eye. But it’s there. I’ve been watching him for about an hour. I’ve been on a private plane twice now—once on my way to Vegas, and this time, on my way home from California. But let me tell you something. They are pretty fucking boring.

Fracking. Fudging. Flucking. I should not swear in my thoughts. James hates it when I swear and if I swear in my thoughts, I’ll swear in real life.

But fuck it. This plane ride sucks. There are no drinks because Harrison was too busy fishing me out of the ocean after James shot me to stock up the cooler.

Yeah. This stupid plane has a cooler. Like something you put ice in. Not like a refrigerator that even our stupid nineteen seventy-eight RV had back when I was a kid. A cooler. I’m not impressed.

So no soda. Not even a fracking, fudging, flucking bag of pretzels.

God, I’m so hungry.

“James?”

He’s across the aisle from me, but that’s like two feet away tops. I kick him when he doesn’t answer.

“James?”

“Kick me again, and I’ll break all your toes,” he says without opening his eyes.

“I’m so hungry.”

He cracks one eye open. “Do I look like a vending machine? I told you, we’ll stop in Burlington after we get the truck.” He closes the one eye like this matter is settled.

“How far away is Burlington?”

“Go ask Harrison.”

And that’s it. I watch him for a few minutes to see if he’ll apologize for not having food. But he doesn’t. He’s asleep again because there’s that twitch.

I don’t want to ask Harrison. He’ll say something with coordinates that make no sense without a map. If it was light I could look out the window and at least see if we passed the mountains yet. Burlington is on the prairie.

I slump down in my seat and pout. I know that’s very childish and I should man up and stop doing it. But I’m not a man and I’m still a child. So hey, might as well enjoy it while I can.

I think of Nick instead.

I can’t believe he never told Harper about me. Is that weird? She didn’t even know I was his promise. That’s not weird. I don’t think, anyway. Promises are supposed to be secret. I shouldn’t know Nick and I are promised. But he told me last year when he started coming to see me in Wyoming.

Well, he came to see my dad. But he took an interest in me and it was very hard for me not to take an interest back because Nick Tate is what girls call hot.

He and Harper have some similarities, obviously, since they are twins. But Nick is taller than Harper. He’s got nice muscles for a boy of only eighteen. Not like James. James has man muscles. He’s a big guy compared to Nick. But Nick is quicker than James. Harper is quicker than James too. I saw her fight a little while we were together.

Nick is smart too. He knows so many things. He knows secrets for one. Secrets that even James doesn’t know.

Hell, even I know secrets that James doesn’t know.

But if I thought that gave me an advantage, I’d be wrong because there’s more to James than just… James.