Chapter 12 Mynx
Mynx
"You almost ready to go?" Destiny asked, peeking her head into Mynx's room.
Mynx tucked the last of her clothes into the small overnight bag she'd borrowed earlier.
"Just about. I wish I knew why Raven wants me to go away with him. It makes me nervous."
"Well, you said you two hooked up. Maybe Raven wants to know you better. Not everything's a setup, Mynx. Good things do happen. I'm excited for you."
Mynx zipped the bag and sat on the edge of the bed.
"We did hook up—and the sex was out of this world. But you told me Raven never gets serious with performers. So why would I think I'm different?"
"What if—and I'm just thinking out loud here—you are different? If you want out of your contract faster, Raven's the one to bag. Use every advantage you've got. Make the bullshit worth it. That's why we're both here, right? To get out alive—and better off than we came."
Mynx considered that. But the way Raven walked away the other night didn't feel like interest—it felt like retreat.
Like sex was the end, not the beginning.
Destiny was trying to soothe her, help her feel better about something she couldn't control.
Hope was dangerous in a place like this. And Raven? He was even more so.
Destiny crossed the room and dropped onto the bed beside her.
"My feet are killing me. These Jimmy Choo's might make my legs look amazing, but I swear they're trying to murder me."
Mynx laughed. And for the first time in a long time, she felt better. Like, there might be a light at the end of the fucked-up tunnel life was leading her through. She was glad she and Destiny were becoming friends; glad she'd taken a chance with her.
"Look, Mynx. Please do yourself a favor and don't start the night questioning his motives. Enjoy yourself. Live in the moment. Have you ever been to Cabo?"
Mynx laughed. "I've never been out of Culver City."
"Then go. Drink too much on the beach. Go skinny dipping. Fuck like a rockstar. I'm jealous—if that means anything to you. Raven is hot as hell, and I'd probably kill someone without blinking to be in your shoes tonight."
"Should I be worried you're gonna take me out and steal my seat on that plane?"
"Nah, I'll let you make it this time. Just don't forget me when you're the head bitch in charge."
"It's just a date. Raven didn't propose."
"Yet. A girl can dream, can't she? I mean, waking up to that face, that body—every morning? Life would hit different."
"I'm not going to use him, Destiny. That's not what this is. I'm going because I see something in him—beneath all that tough-guy armor he wears. There's more to Raven than what he shows. He's got good qualities. Real ones."
"Oh, girl, you got it bad for him, don't you?"
"I wouldn't say that I'd say I see possibilities."
"Possibilities that might have you walking bowlegged for a week." Destiny roared with laughter.
Mynx blushed. "That's just a bonus."
Raven was meeting her on the plane. The limousine felt cold, too quiet—lonely in a way.
It made her overthink every breath, every movement, every glance.
had her asking too many questions again.
It would've been easier if Destiny had come along.
She had a way of settling Mynx's nerves, of making the world feel less sharp around the edges.
But then it wouldn't be a date, would it?
This trip was supposed to be something different.
Something personal. And that was the part that scared Mynx most. Her dealings with Raven thus far had gone two ways.
The route that led to pleasure—fast, consuming, and wordless.
And the one that led to silence. The kind that lingered after he left, heavy with things unsaid.
She didn't know which version of him she'd get on that plane. The man who made her forget herself, or the one who reminded her of just how alone she was.
The Learjet waited on the tarmac. Sleek and predatory, its polished fuselage gleaming under the steady glow of the runway lights—white with silver trim, the kind of plane that whispered money without it needing to be said.
The crew had already lowered the stairs, a quiet invitation into a world Mynx had never touched.
Inside, the cabin was intimate and hushed.
Cream leather seats faced each other in pairs, stitched with precision, the kind of softness that made you forget how fast you were flying.
Chrome accents caught the light, screaming luxury.
A bottle of champagne rested in a crystal bucket near the minibar, untouched.
The air smelled faintly of cedar and something expensive she couldn't name.
Luxury wrapped the cabin, but once the door sealed, it turned into a trap—just her, Raven, and whatever was building between them at 40,000 feet. It made her palms sweat as she made her way to the back of the plane and took a seat.
Raven stepped onto the plane, his eyes scanning until they landed on her.
He wore confidence like a second skin—polo shirt, khaki shorts, the kind of casual ease that suggested he belonged somewhere sunlit and expensive, not tangled in whatever this was.
Mynx glanced down at herself. It would've been nice to know comfort was an option.
The silver, near-holographic dress clung to her body as if it had something to prove.
The corset top cinched so mercilessly, she swore her ribs had shifted, each breath a negotiation between beauty and pain.
Her breasts were pushed up, out, on display—like the designer created it for the sole purpose of luring in a man.
She shifted in her seat, suddenly aware of every inch of fabric. She hated that she looked like she was ready to hit the stage, while Raven looked like a man on vacation.
"Found you, Butterfly." Raven smiled warmly.
"You did," she said, laughing lightly. "Care to tell me what our plans are for the evening? I seem to be a little overdressed."
Raven poured champagne into a crystal flute and handed it to her without a word, his eyes lingering just long enough to make her pulse skip. Then he reached for a bowl of strawberries, setting them between them as he settled into the seat beside her—close, but not quite touching.
Mynx took a sip, the bubbles sharp against her tongue, and waited for him to speak.
"By the time we get to Cabo, it will be late. We might take a walk on the beach, just enjoy each other's company. What do you think?"
"Wasn't what I was expecting," she said, a smile tugging at her lips. "But it sounds fun."
Raven reached for the compartment behind him, pulled out a blanket and pillow, and offered them with a quiet nod. "It's a little over two hours. Might as well be comfortable."
She took them, the gesture softening something in her chest. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.
"About last night…" Raven's voice was quieter than she expected. He didn't look at her—just out the window, like the words needed distance to land. "I wanted to apologize. I shouldn't have left the way I did."
Mynx didn't move. She wasn't sure she could.
"It wasn't about you," he said. "It was about me not knowing how to stay when things feel real between us. You didn't do anything wrong."
Her chest tightened. She'd told herself that a hundred times, but hearing it from him made it harder to hold onto the anger.
"I—usually sex is just sex for me," he continued. "I'm not used to what comes after. And I panicked. I know it's no excuse."
She watched him, the way his jaw flexed, the way his fingers curled against his leg like he was holding something back. He wasn't used to explaining himself. Or showing anything that resembled emotion.
And yet here he was—trying.
It didn't erase the hurt. But it cracked something open inside Mynx that wanted to forgive him. Move past it.
"I get it," she said softly. "Things between us… they seem to pull toward each other, whether we're ready or not. It's hard to explain, harder to know what to do with it."
She let the silence stretch, then met his eyes. "Let's just forget the part that didn't go right and move forward. I wasn't expecting this to shift from business to something else, but it has. And I won't pretend it doesn't affect me."
Her voice steadied. "The way you make me feel—it excites me. Makes me want to be around you more. To know who you are when no one's watching."
Raven turned to her, his movements slow, deliberate. He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, fingers grazing her cheek like he wasn't sure if he was allowed to touch her that gently. Then he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead—soft, grounding, unexpected.
"Thank you," he murmured. "Now rest, Butterfly. I plan on keeping you up till sunrise."
His smile held a flicker of mischief, but there was something else behind it too—something quieter. Mynx felt it in the way his eyes lingered, like he wasn't just teasing her, but promising something he hadn't dared before.
She didn't answer. Just let herself lean back, the warmth of Raven's touch still blooming across her skin.
This is going to be interesting.