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“We need to leave soon,” Cyrus says, looking at his watch.
I grab the hairbrush from on top of the microwave and start pulling her up quickly. Maya whines as I tug on her curls.
“I’m sorry, baby,” I tell her when her hair becomes tangled around the brush, and I pull a couple of strands out. Pulling it into a high ponytail for her, I then grab her backpack, tossing it over my shoulder before grabbing my bag and her hand.
Cyrus follows directly behind me. As I reach down to grab my bag near the door, his hand snakes out, grabbing it.
“I will get this,” he says, and I open the door, stepping out, waiting for them to step past me, and I quickly lock the deadbolt on the door. Walking past my car to the end of the driveway, I notice a limo parked on the curb.
“Aunty Ada, what happened to the car? Why is it so long?” Maya says, staring at it.
Eli walks past, opening the door. “It’s a limo. It’s how they are made,” he tells her, holding his hand out to her.
Maya stares at it hesitantly before placing her tiny hand in his large one. He helps her step in, and I notice a man get out of the front, grabbing my bag from Cyrus. Hopping in, I slide across the seat before placing Maya’s seat belt on. I notice neither of them have bothered to put one on.
“You are meant to wear a seatbelt,” Maya says, and they seem a little shocked by her calling them out before Eli smiles, clicking his into place.
“Better?” he asks, and she nods.
I feel awkward sitting opposite them, their eyes trailing over me, and I pull the front of my skirt down that keeps riding up so I won’t flash them my underwear. The trip to the before-school care facility only takes a few minutes, but it feels like forever under their gaze.
As we pull up, Eli undoes his belt, following me out. He pulls his phone from his pocket before showing it to Maya.
“This lady will pick you up after school and take you to your grandma,” he tells her, showing her the photo he’s sent me.
“She is pretty, like a fairy. What is her name?” Maya beams up at him. Maya seems to really like them, which I find strange. She is usually pretty standoffish with strangers, especially men, yet she speaks comfortably with them.
“Her name is Emery,” Eli tells her, and Maya nods.
“I emailed her teacher last night to let her know,” I tell him, and he nods once before hopping back into the car. I walk her inside before rushing back out, not wanting to be the reason they are late.
Climbing back in, I slide along the seat. I suddenly feel very claustrophobic without Maya as a distraction in the small space with them. I tug my skirt down as it rides up as I move across the seat across from them.
“Nice purple-lace panties,” Cyrus says, his eyes looking between my legs.
My face heats up, knowing he has already caught a glimpse. He smirks at how uncomfortable I have become. Reaching down and grabbing my handbag, I place it on my lap to hide myself from them.
Chapter Six
Adeline
The trip to the airport is long and filled with awkward silence. Worry starts to seep into me. I hate flying; I prefer land. At least you have a chance of survival in a crash on land. In the air, not so much. I keep my eyes glued to the window, but every now and then, I turn back to catch them both staring openly, not fazed at all by my catching them. The air suddenly becomes thicker, and I find it harder to breathe. My stomach fills with dread at having to spend the next two days with these impossible men.
Cyrus gets out first when the limo stops, and I follow behind him, sliding across the seat and climbing out. I feel a hand touch my side as Eli tugs me beside him, his hand on my hip. I jump, stepping away, only to be pulled back to his side. Cyrus watches my startled face before his eyes dart to where Eli’s hand has been. He nods before walking off, only to find they are using a private jet. My heart is hammering in my chest. I hate flying, hate heights, and now I am about to step into a metal cylinder and live my worst nightmare.
I’ve avoided planes like the plague; I would rather spend days on a train or bus than get on one. Stopping at the stairs leading up to it, I freeze, my feet not wanting to move as if they have become rooted to the spot. My breathing becomes uneasy as I peer up at the machine that will take us in the air. I gulp, feeling on the verge of throwing up or passing out as I break out into a cold sweat.
Eli stops, looking at me before realizing I am visibly trembling at the thought of getting on the bloody thing.
“You don’t like flying?” he asks, and Cyrus stops on the steps, looking down at me. Eli’s hand moves to my lower back, pushing me gently, but I am frozen. Completely petrified as I start to hyperventilate. Turning around, I try to make a run for it when I feel Eli’s arm wrap around my waist, tugging me against him. The heat from his chest seeps into my back.
“You will be fine. Just breathe before you pass out,” he says below my ear.
I swallow, remaining still before turning back toward the stairs, his arm still around my waist.
“Will she walk, or do I have to come get her?” Cyrus says, amusement visible on his perfectly sculpted face at my fear. I know it’s irrational, I know that planes are supposed to be safe, but this is one fear I have never been able to let go of.
Eli grabs my hand, placing it on the railing, his chest pressed tightly against my back, his hand on my stomach while I stand shaking, tears threatening to spill when I feel his hand move higher, his fingers trailing along my sides.