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I watch him climb out with her, still in disbelief, but since it seems I’m expected to exit the car, I do.
It’s still cold and windy, but right now I’m distracted enough that I hardly notice.
Killian grabs Toast’s bed and a bag out of the trunk, then he walks over to a balding man standing between the car and the jet in a windbreaker holding a clipboard. He put Toast in the bag—it seems to be some kind of cat travel bag—and he’s wearing her like a backpack.
The man nods and takes Killian’s keys with a servile smile, then he looks over at me. “Brynn Blakely?”
I nod.
He flashes me the same smile, then gestures toward the jet. “You’re good to board.”
It’s the only logical conclusion given the unfolding events, but I still have trouble making sense of it. This is clearly a private jet, and Killian already told me he hates accepting things from his stepfather, so even if his stepfather had a private jet, I can’t see him feeling good about using it. I know he has his investment with Silvan, whatever that means, but there’s no way Killian’s making private jet money while we’re still in college.
Killian approaches and grabs my hand, then he walks me over to the staircase up to the jet.
“Wait,” I say, holding up the cookies Addison gave me. “Am I allowed to bring these on the plane?”
“Yeah,” Killian says, smiling faintly. “It’s not like flying commercial. You can bring whatever you want.”
“This is crazy,” I state. “I’m supposed to get on this thing?”
“Yep.”
Some part of me is still convinced this must be some elaborate hoax. I don’t know how or why. Can you rent out private jets for dinner or something? Would that be weird? Yes. Would it still be easier to accept than what seems to be happening? Also yes.
I shift my hold on the rose and the cookies so they’re in the same hand, then I grab onto the railing and climb the stairs to the private jet.
What is this life?
A brunette flight attendant waits for me just inside with a friendly smile. As I duck inside the plane, she gestures to the cabin area to my right and says, “Take any seat you’d like.”
“Thank you,” I murmur, flashing her a polite smile as I make my way into the cabin.
I stop short only a step or two inside when I see we’re not alone.
Killian came up right behind me, so he has to stop when I do.
The interior of this jet isn’t like a regular plane with just rows of seats. There are comfy-looking leather seats, but there are also couches and a little booth with a table you can eat at.
And on one of the couches sits a pair of beautiful people I don’t recognize.
The guy appears relaxed, his long arm stretched out across the couch behind the girl. She’s lying against him with his too-big black wool coat draped over her shoulders to keep her warm. It’s cool in the cabin with the door open, but I suppose he doesn’t need it since he’s wearing a charcoal gray sweater.
As I’m entering the cabin, the brunette grabs a gummy bear out of the bag she’s snacking on and reaches her hand up to offer him one. He takes it between his lips with the most dead-ass expression on his bored, handsome face, then the gummy bear dies a swift death as he pulls it into his mouth and starts to chew.
“Oh, they’re here,” the pretty brunette says, her gaze shifting in our direction as she pushes herself up to a more upright position and flashes me a smile. “Hi, I’m Aubrey. You must be Brynn.”
Recovering quickly from the surprise of unexpected people on the plane, I keep moving forward toward them and flash her a smile. “Hi. Yeah, that’s me.”
Killian steps around me now that we’re in a space big enough for us to stand side-by-side. Gesturing toward the dark-haired guy on the couch, he says, “This is my friend, Dare. It’s his jet. And that’s his girlfriend, Aubrey.”
“Pleasure’s all mine,” Dare says casually, and the sound of his voice wipes the smile right off my face.
I didn’t recognize his face because they all wore masks that night, but… that is definitely the voice of one of the Blue Bloods who kidnapped me.
The driver. The one in the leather gloves. The one who tied me to that table much more effectively than my first batch of sacrificers.
Now that I meet his dark gaze, I see beyond the initial façade of rich-boy boredom. I see he knew I’d be coming, and he knew I’d likely recognize him the moment I heard him speak, and now his intelligent gaze is fixed on me, watching to see what I’ll do next.
