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“Where are we going?” I doubted my demand would be answered.
The same glare drifted into the mirror, his cold eyes a clear reflection of the orders he’d been given.
“Damn it. I deserve to know. You’re not going to the airport we flew into, which means Kostya wants the flight off the radar. There are two private airstrips, but you couldn’t make that happen from either one. And you certainly can’t use the military facility. So where the fuck are we going?” The silence pitched my anger to a new level. Then I remembered something my father had mentioned in passing. “There’s a private airport listed in a dummy corporation’s name. Let me guess. It belongs to the Kozlov Bratva. Right? A favor given the trouble they’ve caused.”
I was surprised his eyes opened wide and could almost swear he was smiling. “You are being taken to safety.”
Safety? Was the asshole kidding? “Have you heard from Kostya? At least tell me that.” He made a mistake by allowing me to see a shift in his glare once again. Kostya was still MIA at this point. I sat back in the seat, my mind spinning. Suddenly, everything became a blur, my eyes hazy. I dropped my head, trying to keep from hyperventilating. What if he’d been killed? Oh, my God. That couldn’t happen.
Think. Just think.
Rational thinking was almost impossible.
I’d been more emotional over the last few days than I’d been in years, tears trickling against my fingers. I was overwrought, exhausted from the constant danger and heartache, my blood sugar low from lack of food and rest. As hard as I tried to keep from making any sound, within seconds I was gasping for air, no longer the strong girl that I’d become determined to remain.
Images of Kostya rolled through my mind, one after the other. Somehow, he’d managed in only a few short days to strip away almost every single defense. I shivered as I thought about him, rubbing my eyes furiously in some desperate effort to gain control of my emotions. He had to be alive. He was far too infuriating, hardheaded to die. I wanted to be angry with him, to keep hating him, but everything had changed between us.
Everything.
When the soldier made a turn, I lifted my head, scanning the area outside every window. Other than a ‘restricted area’ sign, there was no indication of who owned the property, but I knew I was right. It made sense. The gates slowly slid open, the driver barely waiting until there was enough room for him to pass through. Within seconds, several large buildings came into view, only one designed as a hangar.
There were dozens of soldiers, all dressed in formal yet unrecognizable military attire. And all with assault weapons in their hands. Was it possible I’d been kidnapped by the man believed to be Kostya’s father?
“Trust no one.”
Kostya’s words filtered into my mind, adding to the extreme anxiety. The driver was guided, pointed in the direction of where to go. By the time he screeched to a halt only two hundred yards away from an entirely different jet that had brought us here, I was close to having a full-blown panic attack. The soldier yanked his weapon into his hand, moving quickly, opening the door.
“We need to hurry,” he said gruffly, not waiting to give me time to respond, yanking me onto my feet.
“I don’t think I want to go with you.”
“Ms. Shephard. I was authorized by Mr. Baranov to do anything necessary to keep you safe if he was ambushed. He also mentioned you wouldn’t be able to place your trust in me and told me to remind hishermosa florthat following rules was important.”
Exhaling, I nodded, relief flooding through me. “Okay. You are who you say you are.” He constantly turned around to face the other direction as we jogged toward the plane, the man still shielding me as I headed up the stairs inside.
He went in, taking several steps, gently pushing me aside as he checked the lavatory before heading to the back of the plane then up to the cockpit door. When he was satisfied no one was on board prepared for an ambush, he gave me a respectful nod. “You’ll be taking off in fifteen minutes. Make yourself comfortable.”
As he started to leave, I reached out and touched his arm. “Wait. Am I going alone?”
There was a slight break in his gruff demeanor, his expression softening. “I don’t know, ma’am. If I did, I’d tell you.”
He offered a slight smile then walked onto the top of the stairs, disappearing within seconds.
I stood exactly where I was, realizing I’d placed my entire life in a single man’s hands, but not just any man. A brutal man who proclaimed to have no redeeming qualities, a man so cold-blooded that he was able to kill indiscriminately, yet one who exuded passion in every breath he took, every brush of his lips. I pressed my fingers over my mouth, trying to hold onto the last kiss he’d given me.
A sudden chill swept through me and I held my arms, crawling into one of the seats to watch what was going on outside the window. The soldier who’d protected me kept his weapon in his hand as he was approached by two other men. I held my breath, certain he would be shot, but the men walked away after a brief conversation. The soldier who’d brought me remained, constantly moving to keep an eye on the area. While there was activity in other portions of the facility, other than Humvees, there were no other vehicles approaching.
I sat back, taking stock of the situation. I was in the most vulnerable position I could be in. No weapon. No phone. No identification. Nothing.
Trust. Trust. Trust.
I allowed the word to roll in my mind like a stuttering music system, trying to hold onto it. At least eight or nine minutes had passed until I heard the engines starting. That forced a wave of nausea into my system. I couldn’t do this alone. I didn’t have the strength.
When I finally noticed a stranger heading toward the plane, I jerked to a standing position, yanking the knife from the leather sheath. The weapon felt substantial in my hand, the blade glistening in the shimmering sunlight. I moved toward the door, remaining just out of sight. The man jogged up the stairs, immediately reaching for the door.
He was shocked when I confronted him, ready to strike. “What are you doing?”
His gaze dropped to the knife briefly. “Closing the door. The plane is about to take off.”
