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I reached him but kept my distance. His shoulders sagged.
“Hey,” I mumbled.
“Get in.” Bryce’s voice betrayed no emotion.
“Get in…?”
“The plane.” He motioned to the door.
“I can’t. I have to go back and get Noah—”
“Noah’s with Dale. It’s all been taken care of. My father won’t know a thing. He’s being arrested this afternoon, Chloe. He can’t hurt you.”
I felt like he’d punched me in the gut. “I don’t know what you’re talking about—”
Bryce grabbed me by the hips, picked me up like a doll, and stuffed me inside the entrance.
“Hey!” I wrenched free of him.
“Sit down. Get buckled.”
“Stop it! You can’t make me do this!” I tried maneuvering past him, but his hulking frame blocked the exit.
“The hell I can’t. Remember what I said, that I wouldn’t drag you away like a prisoner?” Bryce pulled off his sunglasses so I could see his eyes, revealing the dark circles beneath them. “I lied.”
I looked around wildly—there was a pilot seated at the front of the plane and two of Bryce’s besuited men in the rear. Not one of them looked at me.
“Noah’s safe.” Bryce’s voice was firm. “I won’t let anything happen to him, you know that. Now get in and put your seatbelt on. We’re taking off.”
“Just where do you think you’re taking me?” I hollered.
Bryce motioned for one of his men, who came forward with a roll of duct tape.
“What the hell’s that for?” My eyes bulged as the guard measured off a piece—just big enough to fit over my mouth—and ripped it from the roll.
“No more talking, or you’ll be wearing that for the rest of the flight.” Bryce sat down and fastened his seatbelt.
I opened my mouth, but when the guard moved closer, I shut it.
“Good.” My husband sounded exhausted. He leaned back against his seat and closed his eyes. “Let’s go. I want to be long gone by the time the feds are on the island.”
“Yes, Sir.” The pilot closed the door and started clicking various switches in the cockpit.
I glared at Bryce, but it didn’t matter: he didn’t bother to open his eyes. I side-eyed the guards, but they wouldn’t look in my direction. The pilot ignored me, starting the engine and checking his various beeping thingies.
“Unfuckingbelievable,” I seethed.
“Chloe.” Bryce’s voice was a warning.
The guard stood up again, duct tape at the ready.
Unfuckingbelievable.I said it inside my head this time.
And then I glared at my husband—my captor—as he promptly fell asleep in his chair.
* * *
The flight was brief, only a few hours. But it was plenty long enough for me to get good and riled up.How dare he?Not only had I left my brother behind, but I’d broken my promise to Gene Windsor. Now I was screwed!
