Chapter Twenty-Three Pax
Chapter Twenty-Three
Pax
Here, everything was green and wet. A ton of trees covered the rolling hills, the area lush, though the surrounding mountains that peaked into the sky were capped in snow.
The second the tires hit the runway, the breath whooshed out of Aria, though her anxiety seemed to double down. The frisson of it snapped across the surface of her skin, that overwhelming desperation to do something so clear I was close to suffocating from it.
Her need my own.
“Told you I was gonna get you here safe and in time to be with your mother,” Ken’s voice crackled through the speaker as we taxied down the runway toward the hangars.
This airpark was quite a bit larger than the last, and there were at least eight hangars stacked in rows that went all the way back to a perimeter fence in the distance.
“You don’t know how much I appreciate it,” Aria returned.
“Ah, made my day, honestly. The two of you seem truly connected to each other. Love to see it. I’m just sorry your honeymoon got mucked up with the news about your mom. Hope it all works out right, that she’s good as new; then the two of you can get that time to celebrate together.”
“Me, too,” Aria whispered, and she glanced back at me, her eyes hidden behind her sunglasses.
Ken brought the plane to a stop in front of a larger building, and he said a few things into his mic before he pushed something on the dash and the propeller began to slowly wind down. Once it did, he popped his hatch and jumped down, and he came around to the other side.
He helped Aria out, then did the same to me.
“Just head in there through the doors. Here’s my card so you can forward your information.” He handed it to Aria.
Felt bad since the guy was cool and had saved our asses, but that was not going to happen.
“Thank you. I hope your flight home is safe,” Aria told him.
I shook his hand, mumbling my thanks, before I set my hand on the small of Aria’s back and guided her toward the door he’d pointed to. My attention swung back and forth, taking in the area as we went, making sure there wasn’t already some twisted bastard here waiting for us.
Heat embraced us when I whipped the door open and we stepped inside.
A chill rushed down Aria’s spine, though I wasn’t so sure it was coming from the clashing temperatures.
“I already texted for a cab the second we touched down,” I told her, hoping to give her some encouragement. Some belief that we’d made it in time.
I knew what was going through her head.
No question, she was replaying that horrible vision of the way we’d rolled up on Peter.
How we’d been one fucking minute too late.
We couldn’t let this turn out the way it had for him.
Couldn’t fathom what we’d do then. How it would affect Aria. The guilt and grief that would consume her sweet, beautiful soul.
So I refused to contemplate if it was even a possibility.
“That’s great,” she whispered.
Aria at least knew Dani’s address since everyone had exchanged info the other night.
After I slung an arm over Aria’s shoulders like we were a regular couple on a trip, we walked down a hallway covered in industrial carpet. The longer corridor was separated by a rope that ran down the middle—one side for arrivals and one for departures.
Aria breathed out in disbelief when we got to the end and saw there was a small security area where passengers had to show their IDs and run their bags through a scanner, plus walk through a detector to get clearance.
We would never have made it through had we been traveling in the opposite direction.
Not without our IDs, and sure as hell not with the gun I had in my bag.
“That was some kind of luck,” I muttered, turning my mouth toward her ear as we pushed through a door at the end that let us out into the unsecured side of the small terminal.
“I just hope our luck hasn’t run out,” she returned, the words soggy with apprehension.
We moved to a large bank of windows that overlooked the front.
Aria fidgeted as we watched, chewing at her thumbnail and shifting on her feet.
She flinched every single time a car came around the curved drive to the drop-off and pickup area just outside the doors, her breaths shallow as she anxiously waited.
Relief clashed with the trepidation that boiled between us when I saw a sedan roll up with the name of the taxi company written on the side. “That’s us.”
“Thank God.”
We rushed out into the damp, cold air. Vapor puffed from our mouths as we jogged to the car, which pulled to a stop at the curb.
We hopped into the back, and I tossed out the address of a café in the shopping center nearest to Dani’s address. Didn’t want any record of us being dropped off directly in front of her house.
I knew Aria probably didn’t care; she would take any risk to get to Dani. But I had to protect her, too. Everything hinged on her survival.
“All right,” the driver said, glancing at us in the rearview mirror. There was some kind of speculation in his tone, unease that glided through his being, no doubt picking up that we were different.
Something he didn’t trust.
“Gonna cost you fifty.”
I pushed three twenties through the plastic plate that separated the front from the back. “No problem.”
He didn’t say anything else when he pulled back around the loop and headed out onto the highway.
Aria twitched the entire way, apprehension rolling through her in waves. I had my hand on her knee, trying to keep her calm as we traveled.
About twenty minutes later, he took an exit off the highway. I could feel Aria’s heart rate increase. Her anxiety ramped up higher with each second that passed.
The driver slowed and made a right into a parking lot that housed what looked like a few local businesses. He rolled up toward the small café that sat in a freestanding building up near the road. The brick walls were painted teal, and there was a flower mural on the side.
Aria had her door open before he’d even come to a full stop.
“Thanks,” I said as I grabbed our bags and slipped out the same side as her.
I acted like I was going to drag the door open while the driver drove away.
The second he disappeared down the street, Aria was moving, her breaths going haggard as she jogged toward the neighborhood road that was on the opposite side of the parking lot.
Our path already plotted out, as we’d searched the navigation during the ride over.
Heavy clouds hung low. So low it felt like you could reach out and drag your fingers through them. Stir them up. Or maybe it was the frenetic energy that roiled in Aria as she took to the sidewalk.
“Hurry,” she pleaded as she looked at me from across the sidewalk, and she began to run, her tennis shoes slapping against the sidewalk.
I was right behind her, searching the area as we moved.
It was quiet.
Still.
Tree limbs stretched out over the road to make an arch, some bare but others still green in the winter.
The houses were older, and each was on at least an acre of land, if not more. Set back from the road and fronted by lawns and more of those abundant trees.
“This is it,” Aria rasped when we made it to the address about halfway up the street. It was a small white house with a porch out front. Potted plants overflowing with colorful flowers sat at the top of the steps on either side, and a huge barren oak grew proudly in the middle of the yard.
Aria didn’t hesitate. She ran up the walkway and bounded up the stairs. One second later, she was pounding on the door. Her palm smacked against the wood while I shifted, letting my gaze rove over the area, searching for anything amiss.
Silence echoed back from every direction.
The area almost too calm for my comfort.
Aria banged again. The wood clattered against the force. “Dani! Dani! Are you in there? It’s Aria. Open the door. Please.”
A flutter of movement suddenly whispered behind the drapes that covered the window to the left side of the door. In it, a wave of intensity rushed through the atmosphere, and a second later, metal ground as the person on the other side worked through the locks.
The door flew open.
Big, pale eyes rounded with shock stared back.
Dani.
She staggered where she stood, completely bewildered at finding us there.
“You’re alive,” Aria seemed to beg before she threw herself at her friend.