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22
Riley
“Turn your head toward me but look past my shoulder,” the photographer says from where he stands on the runway as I pretend to board the private plane Agent Keller arranged for me.
I stop a few steps before the open door to the plane and pose as instructed.
We’ve taken several pictures of me walking out with my luggage and standing by the plane.
“That’s a wrap,” the photographer says and gestures to his team.
I thought they only said that in movies or TV shows.
“You can board now. We got what we need.”
“Thanks.” I nod and step into the small plane.
Tan leather seats with tables in between greet me first, followed by a long, thin couch on one side and a mini bar across from it.
A young Asian woman walks out from the cockpit area. “Mr. Connelly.” She uses my previous fake name Rider Connelly as opposed to my real last name, Cohen. “I’m Kim. I’ll be taking care of you. Please have a seat wherever you’d like.” She gestures around the small cabin.
I scan the seats for Itty-bitty’s carrier and find it secured to a seat in the second row. Carefully, I undo the belt looped around the carrier and move her to a seat next to me.
I choose one of the forward-facing chairs with the tables. I’ve been on personal jets before. My dad has a membership to a private company. No matter how big the plane is or whether it has a bedroom in the back, I like to sit facing in the direction I’m flying. Always have.
“Would you like a drink?” Kim asks.
“Sure. What do you have?”
“Champagne, cocktails, beer, wine, orange juice, soft drinks, bottled water, coffee, and tea.”
“What kind of beer?”
“We have Blue Moon Belgian White, Heineken, Miller Lite, Samuel Adam—”
“Sam Adams, please.”
“Certainly, sir.”
Sir.I haven’t had this kind of formalities since I left my father’s house. I can’t say I miss it, either. I’m a laid-back guy.
Kim returns with my beer. “As soon as we’re in the air, I can serve you food. Here’s a menu. If you need anything else, just hit your button.”
“Thank you.”
When she walks to the back of the plane, I get out my phone and text Agent Keller thanks for the connections and help.
I’m paying for this myself. I’d left witness protection, so the Feds can’t front my bill, nor do I expect them to unless I rejoin the program, which is something I can’t do.
I need control over my life. I don’t want to answer to anyone or explain myself—my actions or whereabouts. I don’t mean it as a stubborn rebellion. The program helps many people. I just don’t need it to help me.
I don’t have what I need financially to buy the place I want yet, so I’m renting a cabin nearby. It’ll do until I make a few more good trades. Then I’ll be set.
I could purchase a house that’s less expensive but because I plan to be a recluse, I want the extra square footage. Especially for during the winter months.
The pilot announces the plane is clear for takeoff.
Soon, I’ll be far away from Nova and the relationship that never had a chance. The memories I’ll keep. At least I have a physical companion to keep me from getting too lonely. I wouldn’t have brought her if Nova hadn’t insisted and arranged everything. I’ll need to reimburse her; this couldn’t have been cheap. And I don’t like the idea of her paying for anything when it comes to me, especially regarding my leaving her. I stop the thoughts before they spiral into something worse that causes me to act in a way I’ll regret. This is for the best.
