4. Diabolical AF
Diabolical AF
Victoria
Alyssa: Yooooo! That man is diabolical!
Brittney: That man is a psycho! Get away from him, sis!
Me: Yeah, that’s kind of hard to do when we’re 40,000 feet in the air.
Alyssa: You need to give that man your two-week notice IMMEDIATELY.
Brittney: Alyssa, that man literally called her airline and told them she died so he could force her on this trip. Do you think he’s gonna let her go just like that? That’s like trying to divorce a desperate ain’t shit man.
Alyssa: Shit. You’re right, Britt. He’s desperate af. That man will knock her head off.
While my friends are right to be concerned, Knox isn’t THAT crazy.
Brittney: What if he’s trying to traffick her??
Alyssa: I’m calling the laws.
Me: All right. Let’s calm down. What would you even tell them? My best friend’s boss strong-armed her into going on a business trip and paid her $100k to go?
Yeah, I’m no fucking idiot. I made that man transfer me $100k before arriving at the airport.
Brittney: Damn. You shouldn’t have taken the money, Tori.
Maybe not. But your mother also isn’t in a private pay memory care nursing home.
Me: I’ll turn it down next time. Anyway, I know y’all are probably itching to hit the beach, so I’ll talk to you two later. Have a drink for me and send me pictures.
Alyssa: We’ll check in with you often. Keep your head up, sis!
Brittney: Make his pockets hurt while you’re there!
Me: That was a given.
I tossed my phone aside and returned my attention to the sorry-ass excuse of an itinerary.
“Victoria.”
“Don’t talk to me, Knox,” I said, scrolling through the document on my work tablet, which I purposely left locked in my office because I knew I wouldn’t be doing any work while on vacation.
That’s another strike against him. He knows I don’t allow him in my office. My office is my private sanctuary—a safe space from him, if you will.
My brows furrowed deeper and deeper the more I reviewed the cockamamie itinerary that Knox pieced together.
“Knox?”
“Oh, I can speak now?”
“For now…what’s with these large gaps in the schedule? And why is it so vague?”
“I don’t find it particularly vague.”
“Knox…this shit literally says there’s a morning meeting tomorrow from 9 AM to 10 AM, and then it says we have “free time” for the remainder of the day.”
“It also says TBD, and the schedule is subject to change.”
“How long have I been working for you, Knox?”
“A little over a blissful year,” he replied with a sarcastic smirk that made me want to wind up my pimp hand.
“That’s right. So, you know, or you should know, that this itinerary is unacceptable.
As much as it kills me to admit this, despite all the bullshit you put me through, you and I work as a well-oiled machine, but that’s because we have structure .
This fly-by-the-seat business is not going to work for me. ”
He stroked his clean-shaven chin as he considered my words. “What do you do to wind down, Victoria?”
So, he’s just going to pass over everything I just said?!
“I go to Miami to wind down,” I spat, getting worked up again. He smiled once more.
Knox doesn’t know it yet, but he’s two seconds away from being strangled with his tie.
“I’m aware that the itinerary is a little…flexible, but you know what they say about all work and no play. I assure you that Bali far exceeds Miami.”
“Not if I’m with you,” I countered.
“Relax, Victoria. It’s not the end of the world. Plus, you were paid handsomely for your attendance. You have $100,000.00 more than you did before you woke up this morning.”
Shit. I can’t argue with him there. That money will cover Mom’s rent for a year.
Remembering that my mother would be cared for without me stressing tamped down my anger.
“You’re right,” I mumbled as I continued to scroll.
“Of course, I am.”
I raised my palm to pause him when I made it to the accommodation portion of the itinerary.
“Knox Jamarcus Ramsey.”
“That’s not my middle name,” he sighed, massaging his temples.
“Tell me your middle name, and I’ll stop giving you random names,” I insisted.
“I refuse.”
“All right then, Knox Kayden Ramsey. Why is there only one room booked?”
“That was all that was available on such short notice.”
“I’m not sharing a room with you.”
“We’re not sharing a room; we’re sharing a common space. The suite has two bedrooms.”
Nope. This isn’t going to work for me because a few cocktails might convince me that a good rage fucking is in order. At least if I’m located on a different floor or at the opposite end of the hotel, we wouldn’t be as easily accessible when we’re drunk, horny, and lonely.
Knox
The next afternoon after our overnight layover, I nursed my bourbon as I read the latest crime novel, ranked #1 on the New York Times Best Sellers list that week. It wasn’t the best I’d read—predictable by page 50, but the dialogue was engaging enough.
My eyes flicked up from the pages when I heard Victoria moan softly in her sleep.
How high on the delusional scale would I have to be if I imagined she was dreaming of me?
Rather high.
I’d gotten off easy after the stunt I pulled. I was still breathing, had all my limbs, and could see out of both eyes. I’d expected to at least receive a decent-sized lump to the back of my head.
Thank God for donuts and wealth, or I’d be a dead man.
It might be my narcissism talking, but a part of me believed that Victoria didn’t mind accompanying me on this trip.
Of course, she protested and threw a tantrum like the petulant woman child she was.
Still, I couldn’t help but notice when she left her tablet behind to use the restroom that she’d been researching excursions.
I had no desire to go horseback riding on the beach, but I’d do it if it meant I could spend time with her.
The plane jolted, and some of the amber liquor splashed on my white dress shirt.
“Shit,” I mumbled, reaching for a napkin.
“Shut up, Knox,” Victoria mumbled in her sleep.
I rolled my eyes and continued dabbing at my shirt.
The jet lurched again in a way that made me feel uneasy.
I glanced at Victoria, and despite the worsening turbulence, she was still sound asleep.
The jet shuddered again, and my fingers sank into the armrests like a spooked cat with its fur raised and claws out.
This is not normal. Something’s seriously wrong.
I threw up the shade and was relieved to see the engine wasn’t on fire, but my relief was short-lived when the jet took another jerky dive, and my stomach dropped to my toes.
“Fuck this shit.”
I freed myself from the seat belt and was about to approach the cockpit when the flight attendant rushed towards me.
“Sir! Please remain seated and secure your seat belt.”
“I need to speak to the pilot.”
“Please return to your seat,” she said. She was trying to appear calm, but the sweat on her brow and the downward twitch of her lips betrayed her.
She’s afraid.
“I’m speaking to the pilot one way or another. Maybe you should take your own advice and fasten your seat belt.”
“Unfortunately, sir, I need you to return to your sea—”
I brushed past her, determined to speak to the pilot. My intuition told me that there was a probability that the plane wouldn’t make it to its intended destination.
That can’t happen; Victoria’s with me.
She could’ve been in Miami with her best friends, but my selfishness could endanger her life.
A garbled commotion echoed from the cockpit.
“Sir? Sir? Oh, fuck! Oh, shit!”
The yelling didn’t abate but became increasingly panicked and nonsensical with each passing second.
No one wants to hear “oh, shit” from their pilot.
I rushed to the cockpit and ignored the attendant’s frantic calls.
Nothing could’ve prepared me for the scene I stumbled upon.
I didn’t know what to expect, but I hadn’t expected to find the seasoned pilot convulsing in his seat with his eyes rolled into the back of his head.
The co-pilot, who couldn’t be more than 25, hovered over him while red lights buzzed and flickered on the dashboard.
“What the fuck is going on in here?” I demanded, pushing closer.
The young pilot looked at me with tears in his eyes.
“H-he just started shaking,” he explained, his hands trembling like a Southern church lady with a tambourine.
“Yeah, no shit. He’s having a seizure, dumbass. I want to know why you haven’t taken over? I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but it’s getting rocky out here, kid,” I said, wrestling the deceased pilot out of the chair onto the floor.
“Is…is he dead?”
“We’ll all be dead if you don’t get this plane under control.” The young pilot looked at the controls like he’d never flown a plane. “Please tell me you know what you’re doing,” I spoke softly.
He licked his lips and swallowed roughly. “It’s my first…it’s my first week. I’ve never flown internationally before.”
I ran a hand through my hair and tried to remain calm so I could take control of the situation. It was no different than handling a work crisis.
Except that we’re 40,000 feet in the air, and there’s a possibility that we’ll plunge to our deaths.
“Th-that’s not all, sir,” the co-pilot stammered.
I narrowed my eyes at him and clutched the back of the pilot’s chair when we took another unfortunate dip.
“Lay it on me, kid.”
“We have bigger issues on her hands.”
“Such as?” I questioned.
“One of the engines failed, and I’m fairly certain the other won’t hold us until we reach somewhere safe to land.”
I never thought I’d use my age as an excuse for not comprehending the basic English language, but there was a slim chance I misheard the young pilot.
Did he just say one of the engines failed, and the other is about to go out? He didn’t say that. I’m 49, and my hearing isn’t what it used to be.
“I’m sorry. I think I misheard you, kid. Can you repeat that?”
“One of the engines failed, and I’m fairly certain that the other won’t hold us until we reach somewhere safe to land,” the co-pilot whimpered.
“I need you to calm down and regain control of this plane. I don’t know much about planes, but I know that in the event of engine failure, the plane can glide. Can you radio for help?”
The jet pitched, setting off more alarms.
Fuck.
“Knox!” Victoria shrieked, helplessly calling my name.
I closed my eyes and took several deep breaths to calm my nerves, but that was challenging to do, thanks to the pilot’s pathetic sobs that he didn’t want to die.
“Knox! Where are you?”
My eyes snapped open, and I knew I had to take control of the situation as best I could.
“Hey! Put your hands on that goddamn joystick, or whatever the fuck you call it, and try not to kill us all! Deal?” I ordered before rushing back to our seats.
The look of sheer terror on Victoria’s face was gut-wrenching.
She was terrified—rightfully so—and all I could think about were those escaping zoo penguins in that children’s movie directing you to put your head between your knees and kiss your butt goodbye.
It was time to prepare for the worst-case scenario.
This plane is going down.
I sat beside Victoria and offered her a practiced smile—the same smile I’d use when a board member asked too many damn questions.
“Knox, something’s wrong, isn’t it?” she whispered, tears cresting her lid.
“Of course not.”
“Don’t fucking lie to me, Knox. You’re wearing that same smile you wore when Buchanan was digging in your ass about profit margins.”
She knows me too damn well.
Her breath shuddered, and she whispered, “Oh, my God,” when I reached under the seat and retrieved the life preserver.
“None of that matters. What matters now is that you keep calm. You will be okay,” I assured her as I tugged the vest on her.
I secured it—ensuring all the snaps were fastened across her chest and midsection.
“We’re going to die,” Victoria whimpered as reality set in for both of us. “Fuck! We’re going to die!”
“We’re not dying, sweetheart,” I said, not even believing my own lie. I didn’t know the precise odds of surviving a plane crash, but the ones I’d seen sensationalized for shock and awe on network news made me believe the odds weren’t in our favor.
Tears fell freely from Victoria’s eyes, and the painful regret I felt bloomed in my chest, spreading through me like wildfire. I placed my hands on her face, and she looked into my eyes. Her pupils dilated as adrenaline coursed through her system.
“Hey. Guess what?”
She sniffled and shook her head. “I-I don’t have time for your bullshit, Knox. Can’t you fucking let me die in peace?” she cried.
I shook my head and grinned. “I have to pay you hazard pay for this. You’re welcome.”
She scoffed and muttered under her breath that I was a bastard as I rechecked her attachments and carefully scanned for holes in the life preserver between the violent shaking of the plane.
Hey. At least she didn’t call me a dirty old bastard this time.
As reality settled in that we were going down, Victoria’s sobs overtook, and she began hyperventilating, tugging at her life vest in a desperate attempt to breathe. I wrenched her fingers away from the clips and held them tightly.
“Tori Montana, you’re the strongest, smartest, and most unfuckwithable person I know. There’s nothing you can’t handle. I promise. I’ll make sure you’re okay, but you have to take deep breaths because when we survive this, we’ll need that big brain of yours to help us get out of this mess. Okay?”
She nodded gently, and I patterned deep breaths for her until her breathing leveled out.
“You’ll…you’ll be here, right?”
“I’ll be here every step of the way. I won’t leave you—not for a single second,” I promised.
“W-why aren’t you in your life vest yet? Put it on! Do you want to die?”
I smiled.
Well, if I’m going to die, I might as well make it count, right?
Without further thought, I leaned over, pulled her in, and pressed our lips together.
They’re soft. I always knew they were, but fuck, the physical confirmation was needed. So fucking worth it.
Victoria was stunned—frozen in time like a statue while the jet continued to fall out of the air. I deepened the kiss for a moment when she didn’t move away. I finally released her when I realized I only had precious moments left.
“I think I deserve a little taste of Heaven before I go to Hell.”
She was silent, staring at me while our fate hung in the balance. I took the opportunity to pull on my life preserver and secure myself in my seat. She didn’t react until I offered her a flirty wink.
Victoria’s face scrunched up, relieved of shock as anger replaced it.
She’s making my favorite face; if it’s the last face I see before I take my last breath, I’m satisfied.
“You son of a—”