Chapter 38
If I’ve ever flown before, I sure as hell don’t remember it, and considering how much I don’t enjoy this, I’m pretty sure I would remember.
“Princess?”
I turn to look at Jake, where he sits next to me. His eyes are full of concern, and I can only assume this isn’t the first time he’s tried to get my attention. It’s hard to pay attention to anything, though, knowing we’re thousands of feet in the sky, chilling on a couch in a giant tin can!
“Breathe. I know it’s scary at first, but I’ve flown a hundred times on this same jet,” Jake tells me in a soft voice that I know is meant to calm me while he strokes the back of my hand with his thumb.
It doesn’t help, but I appreciate his effort. That is, until he attempts to pry my fingers from my leg that I’ve had a death grip on since we started moving.
Panicked, I do the only thing I can think of to make him stop.
I bite him.
I don’t put too much force behind it, just enough to make him let go.
He yanks his hand back, looking down at me with a frown. “Did you… Did you just bite me?” he asks, rubbing at the spot on his hand where I can see the slight imprint of my teeth.
Oops, maybe I bit him harder than I intended, but he’s not bleeding or anything. Maybe now he’ll leave me alone.
“What?” Zander turns to look at me, and I notice everyone is looking at us.
Fantastic.
“I think she’s scared of flying. She’s been white-knuckle gripping her legs since we started rolling down the runway,” Jake says, nodding down at my hands.
If I wasn’t terrified, I would definitely flip him off just to show how wrong he is.
The only problem is, well, he’s not wrong.
I am terrified, but that doesn’t mean I needed him to point it out to all of them!
Since I can’t bring myself to flip him off, I glare at him instead.
It’s not as satisfying, but honestly, with Jake, it’s enough.
He hates when anyone is unhappy with him, something I try not to use against him, but right now.
Right now, it’s completely necessary. My heart may damn well beat a hole through my chest if they try to get me to work through this fear.
I just need them to leave me alone and let me cut off the circulation in my legs until we land…
If we land.
Nope! No. Bad idea. I hear the guys talking around me, but all I can picture is us falling out of the sky in a fiery tin can. Squeezing my eyes shut, I shake my head, trying to think of anything else.
Kittens. Thai food. Beating the guys in the ring. Coffee.
Nothing’s working.
Shit. I can feel my panic rising as my breathing borders on erratic. I’m about three seconds from a full-blown panic attack. I know it, yet I still can’t get a grip.
“Jade!”
Kratos’s bark of command has my eyes flying open to look up at him, where he now towers over me.
He wasn’t there a minute ago, and I don’t love his tone, but I can’t even force out a growl of annoyance as my panic continues to choke me.
“Look at me,” he commands as I turn my eyes back down to my lap once again. Looking up like that gives me a pretty good view out of the windows behind him, which are mostly clouds. Something that definitely should not be so close or surrounding us.
I do as he says regardless, unable to stop my eyes from darting to the window, even though I know it’s a terrible idea. Rick’s hand reaches out, pulling the cover down and cutting off my view in one quick motion.
The sigh of relief that leaves me would be embarrassing if I gave a shit about that right now.
“She’s working herself into a panic, and the windows aren’t helping,” Rick says, always so quick to understand everything.
The second he’s said that, the guys are quick to move, pulling down shades all over the place until the only windows that aren’t covered are farther back, the ones I can’t see out of, anyway.
It shouldn’t help as much as it does. It doesn’t really make sense, considering the fact that I still know we’re flying.
I still understand that behind that little cover, we’re swimming in clouds.
Yet it’s enough for me to take the first real breath I’ve taken since the door closed behind us, trapping us in here.
Before I can enjoy the oxygen, it’s stolen from me again as Kratos reaches out, scooping me up into his arms. One moment, I’m on the couch.
The next, he’s pulling me into his chest, cradling me like I’m a small child.
It catches me off guard, and I lose my grip on my legs.
The second I’m against him, I scramble to find something to hold onto.
Feeling panicked and off balance, I all but claw at him with no remorse.
“Fuck, Killer," Kratos hisses. Prying my eyes open, I see that I’ve got one hand fisted in his shirt, my nails digging into his skin underneath. But I think his reaction is more so because I twisted my other hand up in his hair that is hanging loose today.
I bet he regrets that choice now. Good, he should know better than to manhandle people like that. I narrow my eyes at him as he grimaces down at me, as if he thinks I might loosen my grip.
Not.
“I wouldn’t be clawing at you like a drowning cat if you’d left me be,” I snap, or attempt to. Instead, my words come out breathy and low.
Fuck, I sound pathetic, even to my own ears.
Another hand grabs mine, stroking their thumb over my finger, which still have a death grip on Kratos’s locks, and I shoot a glare over his shoulder to find Spencer standing behind him.
The fact that they all have to duck down when standing was so funny to me when we boarded, but now I can’t seem to enjoy it the same way.
I swear I might just stay in Italy so I don’t have to go through this bullshit again. There is almost nothing I hate more than being afraid. I’ve always faced my fears, but this is hard to face when I have no control.
“How about you grip me and let his hair go before you pull it from his scalp, Demon?” Spencer suggests. “We all know how much you love his hair. It would be a shame to ruin it, wouldn’t it?” he asks with his typical cocky little half-smirk that lets me know he’s well aware he has a valid point.
Fucker.
I do love Kratos’s hair.
I hold on for a second longer before I roll my eyes at him and slowly pry my fingers open.
It literally takes every ounce of control that I have to do it.
Fear builds inside me so strongly that I feel like I might throw up, but the second my fingers are free, Spencer’s fingers slot into mine, and the feeling lessens.
Kratos rubs his head, his brows pinching together, and guilt makes my stomach flip. I didn’t mean to hurt him.
“Sorry,” I mumble, pressing my head to his chest in shame.
“You’re fine. I shouldn’t have picked you up like that and expected you would just be okay when you were already freaking out. No real harm, but I can for sure say hair pulling isn’t something I like,” he tells me, and I can hear the smile in his words even if I can’t see it.
“Flying isn’t always easy, especially the first few times, but I think I have a way to make it easier,” Spencer says, squeezing my hand.
I feel Kratos shift, and I know he’s moving, but I can’t bring myself to look up.
Being in Kratos’s arms is comforting, like he’s grounding me, and even though I still feel the fear, it’s not as all-consuming as it was before.
Not to mention the windows in the front and rear aren’t covered, which won’t help me.
I hear a door open, but I have no idea where it might go. I didn’t really care to see around the jet before we took off, too focused on the plan and our next move. Now I kind of wish I’d looked around, as I imagine them opening the exit door and us being sucked into the clouds to fall to our death.
“Breathe, Killer, we won’t let anything happen to you,” Kratos whispers in my ear as his hand trails a soothing path up and down my back.
The next thing I know, he’s leaning over with me still in his arms, and we’re lying down.
I peek one eye open, looking around to find us lying on a large bed in a separate room.
The room doesn’t have a lot. There’s the bed and a small dresser in the wall with a large panel that I assume are covered windows.
A display strip over the TV at the end of the bed shows our time to destination is still ten-plus hours.
Gross.
The room has two doors. One says “exit” in red over it, and I assume that leads back where we came from, though I’m not sure where the other leads.
“It’s a bathroom, a full one. The one in the cabin is pretty basic, but this one is the master bathroom,” Spencer says, following my gaze.
“So this thing is like a mini-house?” I ask, continuing to look around the room. I’ve never spent a lot of time thinking about flying, but somehow, I didn’t think this was how planes were.
“Yeah, some are less fancy, but you get used to it, eventually. Zan, Rick, Jake, and I have done a lot of flying. Jake is more used to the private jet, where we still fly in commercial planes, but we fly first class, so it’s not a crazy difference,” Spencer says, shrugging.
His hand still grips mine over Kratos’s shoulder, where he sits on the edge of the bed.
“This room is more closed off. It’s a little easier to forget where you are, and sleeping will help pass the time,” he says, looking at me with narrowed eyes. “Not to mention, I’m sure you could use some actual sleep.”
I roll my eyes, but I can’t exactly argue with him; I know I need to sleep.
I’ve been going without or waking up in a panic for the last few days.
Spencer only knows that because his own sleeping habits are shit, though.
Often, when I woke, I’d head down to the gym, grab a snack, or go find a new book before returning to whoever’s room I started in.
After a few days, that got old, though, and books weren’t enough to entertain me.
I don’t even remember how I ended up there, but one night, I found myself in Spencer’s little tech cave.
He didn’t say shit when I sat with him, watching him do, well, whatever it was.
I didn’t understand any of it, but something about it was soothing.
I started going down to him more often, bringing him coffee and snacks.
Neither of us really talked about it, but it was comforting being there with him.
Of course, he’s going to throw it in my face now, asshole.
“Yes, I’m sure I’m the only one in need of sleep,” I say back in challenge, sticking my tongue out in retaliation.
Spencer and Kratos both snort a laugh.
“She’s got you there, Spencer,” Kratos says, leaning forward to brush his lips to my forehead.
Fuck, this bed is comfortable. Between being wrapped up in Kratos’s hold and my body coming down from my panic, I’m fighting to keep my eyes open. I don’t love the idea of sleeping here, but waking up and having cut hours off the flight sounds fantastic.
“Whatever,” Spencer snaps, pulling his hand from mine now that my grip has loosened. I fight to open my eyes, but can’t seem to do it. I hear him move and feel the slight shift of the bed.
He’s leaving?
I force myself up on my elbows, battling my heavy lids, to find him walking around the bed.
“Lay down, Demon,” he says with a lazy grin. I love that damn grin, but I’ll be damned if it doesn’t make me want to smack him at the same time.
I don’t, instead staying where I am and watching as he kicks off his shoes before he crawls onto the bed beside me.
The second he puts his head on the pillow, his arm wraps around my waist, pulling me back down with him.
Always so damn pushy.
“I’m not going anywhere, so lie down and relax. We’re here,” he says, and this time I listen. Unable to fight my urge to close my eyes while sandwiched between them.
“You’re going soft, Spencer,” Kratos says with a huff of laughter.
“Shhh, I’m sleeping,” Spencer mumbles, making me laugh as well.
Maybe flying isn’t so bad like this.