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"Any minute," John replied. "And fair warning, her plane doesn't look like much, but it'll get you where you need to go—most of the time."
“Most of the time?” Nix asked.
“About eighty-five percent of the time,” Kaydence answered, her voice dry and annoyed. I wondered if she was on the plane for the other fifteen percent.
“Still a passing grade,” John added enthusiastically.
Yeah. This wasexactlywhat we needed right now. I frowned.
"Great," Grace replied sarcastically. "When all this is said and done, I'm never flying again. Or riding motorcycles." Nix started massaging her shoulders. I wanted to hold her hand. I hated this for her. The only way to survive was to keep moving. She looked like she needed time to process, though.Soon, I thought.
Nix took a step away from her and stared at the ground with his shoulders slumped in defeat. I noticed the shift in his body language. Based on Grace’s scowl, she did too.
“You wouldn’t have to run if you’d just left me alone,” he said under his breath, though we all heard it.
Grace closed her eyes and shook her head. “Not an option, Nix,” she replied.
* * *
John wasn't kidding about his sister's airplane. It looked like it was bought in the eighties and shook so much I was certain one good gust of wind would knock it clear out of the sky. I also doubted it had the fuel capacity to get us where we needed to go.
"Coober Pedy is just about thirty minutes away. I'm going to drop you in a secluded area, then leave to get gas in Port Augusta," Tate, John's sister, said. She was a sassy, capable redhead with a nonchalant attitude about it all, as if flying people willing to drop a hundred thousand dollars for secrecy was nothing. She wore a designer pantsuit and had long pink nails that danced along the dashboard of the plane. Most of the instruments didn’t look like they worked at all. I tried not to think about it too much.
"I'll try to make sure you land somewhere within walking distance of civilization without drawing too much attention," Tate added. Good. I didn't want to be in the middle of nowhere, without a cell phone and no way to call for help. We had a map, a compass, and a prayer. That was pretty much it. Oh. And a briefcase full of money and one of John's illegal guns.
"Thank you," Grace shouted over the loud engine.
"Coober Pedy is known for their dugouts. Find you one of those underground homes to stay in, and you should be safe for quite a while," Tate added. I pinched my mouth closed, not wanting to confirm that it was already our plan. The fewer people who knew our location, the better. Grace squeezed my hand as we flew, and every bump we hit had her crawling into my lap. Nix was in the back row, staring stoically out the window, with his eyes glaring in disapproval. I knew that this wasn't the best plan, but at least we were together.
When we boarded the plane, Nix secluded himself. I wanted to ask what was running through his mind, but didn’t know how to bring it up. He looked stuck between a rock and a hard place, struggling with his need to protect us both and his guilt for bringing us into this mess. I didn’t know how to make him understand that we’d go to hell and back for him.
Oh fuck. We? Since when did I start thinking of this aswe?
"You okay?" I asked Grace as she nuzzled my chest.
"Not really. I could go for a spa day. Think they have spas where we are going?" she asked, her voice teasing. Grace liked to pretend to like the finer things in life, but I knew she played along to appease her brother. She accepted whatever scraps of affection he gave her, and Gavriel only knew how to toss his baby sister luxury items and designer handbags. I suppose it was easier than actually talking. Grace put on a brave face, but she didn’t actually care about any of that. I'd seen her painting her toes electric blue on her patio and looking happy and free—better than any SoHo spa. Not to mention, I’d followed her to quite a few thrift shops over the years.
"I'm sure they have a Four Seasons," I played along. "I'll give you a foot massage once we land."
"I can do that," Nix interrupted. "I can take care of her, too, you know."
Was that what was bothering him? I knew that it was a close call earlier. He was probably feeling about as helpless as I was. Taking care of Grace Moretti had become a hobby of mine. I wasn’t sure what changed things, but running for our lives made me see her in an entirely new light. Having Nix here drastically changed our dynamic, but caring for her was in my blood, my existence.
"Maybe I don't need to be taken care of," Grace said before pulling away from me and turning to face Nix on the back row. "I don't want a martyr or a protector or someone who's going to push me away for my safety. I want a partner in everything. I want someone who'll hold my hand while knowing how fucking capable I am. Don't get pissed at Alessandro just because he did what you've been neglecting to do since you left. Don't get mad at us for finding one another while you were hiding like a coward."
"Enough," I snapped. She hadn't seen how broken Nix was. She didn't wipe his tears or take in the lost expression in his eyes. I supported her, and a lot of what she said was right, but I wouldn't let her bully him.
Grace shied further away from me and crossed her arms over her chest.
"Damn, girl," Tate said from her seat up front. "Preach. Can't stand it when men want to act like we're hopeless little puppies."
I ignored John's sister. "Nix did what he thought was best," I interrupted. "You're allowed to be frustrated, but you also need to understand that, regardless of what happened in the past, we are a team now. We all take care of one another. We all stand together against this. We won't all be strong at the same time."
"So now we're in this together?" Nix snapped. "I don't need you defending me, Alessandro. I can handle it."
"But you shouldn't have to," I insisted.
Grace chewed on her bottom lip. “I’m sorry, Nix,” she said. “I didn’t mean to snap at you.”
