12. OLIVIA
OLIVIA
Moving a body was the last thing I expected to be doing when I slipped into my uniform this morning.
Then again, I’d done a lot of things in the last twelve months that I never thought I would. Crawled through a murderous billionaire’s air vent? Check. Rescued my sister from an international trafficking ring? Check. Got railed in the plane bathroom an hour after takeoff? Big check.
Did that mean I was ready to touch a dead guy? Definitely not.
“Do you think this counts as hazing?” Julie muttered, adjusting the sheet when it started to slip. Marcus took the head, his face turning greener by the second. I wondered if he also regretted getting up this morning.
“It’s protocol,” Marcus grunted. “We’ll be flying over the North Atlantic soon.” Adjusting his grip, he looked down and muttered: “Of course, it had to be the Valley of Death.”
“Valley of Death?” Julie repeated, shooting me a bewildered look, which I returned.
“It’s what us seasoned flight attendants call it,” Marcus explained, somewhat bitterly. “The North Atlantic passage is full of wind pockets and turbulence. Most passengers slip a valium beforehand.”
Julie snorted softly. “Good thing we’re moving him, then. Can’t have him bouncing around the cabin.”
Marcus grimaced at her. “You should have more respect for the dead.”
“I thought you said we couldn’t declare him ‘dead’,” Julie prodded. I suspected she was trying hard to distract herself—and me—from the gruesome task we were undertaking.
“We’re not,” Marcus said, scowling. “It’s considered a medical emergency until someone qualified can call time of death.”
“So, what, he’s just napping?”
Marcus glared at her, then turned it on me when I giggled. It wasn’t funny. It wasn’t even remotely funny. I was pretty sure I was in shock. Or, like, having a full mental breakdown.
All my worst fears were coming to a head.
The mark was dead.
The prototype was missing.
I’d been assaulted in the bathroom by a murderous, psychopathic profiler who saw right through my cover.
My sanity? Gone.
My confidence? Completely obliterated.
Through sheer desperation and adrenaline, we managed to strap the body down in the jump seat at the rear of the cabin. The sheet slipped, and for a second, I was caught in the bug-eyed stare of the late Peter Vincilli.
I still didn’t understand what had happened to him.
One minute, he was a strong, terrible monster threatening to kill me. The next, a convulsing, writhing mess.
And I’d been the last person alone with him.
Paranoia itched at my skin. I couldn’t help but feel like I was being watched. Like I was already on trial. Like I was guilty.
Even Julie seemed suspicious, like she wanted to ask but she didn’t. I supposed accusing someone you just met of cold-blooded murder was a real friendship killer.
“What happens now?” Julie asked Marcus.
“Lucille is talking to the captain. Most likely we’ll be rerouting to the nearest airport, which is in Greenland.”
My stomach swooped. “How far away is Greenland?”
“About an hour.”
One hour.
I had to find the prototype in one hour.
Problem was, I had no idea who stole it. The prototype was a hot item among the world’s worst criminals. Everyone wanted it. Evidently, any of them would kill for it.
Before I could plunge into a full-on spiral, Lucille swooped into the galley. She glanced at the sheeted body with a pinched look.
“We’re not stopping.”
Marcus blanched. “Why the hell not?”
Lucille scowled at him but didn’t reprimand him for his tone. “The captain is having issues contacting the control tower. The safest option is to proceed as planned.”
Marcus clearly disagreed. He crossed his arms, not perturbed by Lucille’s visible ire. “Tell that to the cabin full of lawyers who just watched a man die right in front of them. Mark my words. We’ll be slapped with a lawsuit before we ever see Zurich.”
“Well,” Lucille said coldly. “We will just have to do our best to appease them.”
She turned on Julie and me with a pointed look. “You two will work twice as hard at keeping them happy. You will be polite. You will give them whatever they want.” Her eyes daggered on Julie. “You will not make jokes or be disrespectful to the poor deceased man in any way. Is that understood?”
Julie’s nostrils flared slightly, but her voice remained calm. “Understood.”
The plane gave a commiserating jolt.
“Go,” Lucille snapped, waving us into motion.
The cabins looked gloomier than ever. The sun was setting, leaving behind a dismal grey-blue light. The glare of screens only highlighted the snarling faces of the passengers, like neon gargoyles.
Marcus was right. The lawyers weren’t just angry—they were downright riotous.
Barely a half hour later, I was being overrun with complaints.
“Miss? Hello?” A hand shot out in front of me, stopping me in my tracks.
My fake smile made my cheeks hurt. “How can I help you, sir?”
The man jabbed his finger at his laptop and his many, many windows. “I’m having issues with the Wi-Fi.”
He wasn’t the only one.
The universe decided to kick the hornet's nest and cut off the Wi-Fi and phone signal, like the lawyers weren’t already on the verge of mutinying. Lucille was running around like a headless chicken trying to fix it.
Meanwhile, I was busy searching every passenger for the watch. It meant getting closer to them than I liked, especially after what happened in the bathroom.
Most of them probably thought I was some overeager gold digger, checking out their accessories for my next conquest. The old-Olivia might’ve been embarrassed by that. The new and significantly more traumatized version of me couldn’t care less.
“We’re looking into the Wi-Fi, sir,” I reassured him. Then I leaned in a bit closer, subtly eyeing his watch. It was the right brand, the wrong model. “Would you like something to drink in the meantime?”
He blinked at my closeness, a flush spreading up his neck. “I—uh, yes.”
I was slipping into the galley for a much-needed break when the bathroom door snapped open, and a hand grabbed me. In a blink, I was yanked inside. A rough hand slammed over my mouth, trapping my scream.
No way this was happening to me again!
But then I recognized the man who grabbed me, the callouses on his palm, and the furious storm in his Nordic blue eyes.
Jax.
My shoulders dipped in relief. I reached up and pulled his hand away. “What—”
Someone moved behind me.
I froze when I felt a chest against my back. Suddenly, I was pinned between two hard bodies. Jax was at my front, staring down at me with a furious expression. Which meant that the man at my back was his deadly enforcer.
A girl couldn’t catch a break.
“Now,” Jax said.
But he wasn’t talking to me.
A cold hand came up, wrapping around my throat. I struggled instinctively. A dry voice ghosted over my ear: “Now, now. Don’t make me snap that pretty neck.”
Madoc would do it. I knew he would.
We’d been in this position before.
Jax stepped forward, pinning me harder against Madoc. I felt every inch of him, and it was bad.
Bad bad.
The absolute worst.
“I warned you,” Jax said, his voice low and dark. “I told you not to lie.”
“I haven’t lied,” I gasped out. Madoc wasn’t squeezing, but the pressure of his touch was debilitating. “I swear…Jax.”
“Did you know the Vipers would be on the plane?”
My eyes bulged. “The Vipers?”
I didn’t know much about the Vipers, except that they were cold-blooded assassins working for Dr. Z, Jax’s former boss. Seeing them was like seeing the Reaper himself. It meant you were marked for death.
“No,” I whimpered. “Jax, no, of course not.”
“They want the prototype,” Jax said, his eyes boring into mine, looking for lies. “But they also want you.”
My mind blanked. Surely, I’d misheard him.
“Me?”
His lip curled up. “You made any more shady deals with crime bosses that I should know about?”
Outrage bubbled up inside me. I knew Jax still resented me for the deal he’d made with Preacher. He blamed me for not telling him the whole truth. But it wasn’t like he’d told me everything either. It wasn’t like I’d planned for any of it.
And I definitely didn’t go looking for other crime bosses. One was more than enough.
“Of course not!” I snapped.
“You want me to believe it’s just a funny fucking coincidence?” Jax’s anger was palpable, filling up the space. His body trembled, muscles twitching. “You’re here, playing thief for Preacher, getting involved when you shouldn’t be. And now Dr. Z has marked you. Why would he want you?”
“I…”
Jax stepped forward even closer, his front pressed to mine. I felt his heart, strong and steady in his chest. “What do you have that he wants?”
“Nothing,” I said. The fingers on my throat spasmed, like a warning. Do not lie. “I swear. I’ve never met him. I don’t know why he wants me.”
Jax didn’t move. His eyes searched mine.
“I don’t believe you,” he said.
Hurt unfurled in my chest. Then came the anger like a beautiful salve, soothing it.
“I don’t care,” I snapped, reaching up and pushing on his chest. He didn’t budge.
“You don’t have to believe me. You just need to do your part.
I’ll do mine. Preacher gets the prototype, and we can part ways and never see each other again. ”
His jaw clenched at my words, like he didn’t like them. Or he didn’t believe them. His eyes flicked over my head. He stared at Madoc for a beat, the two of them communicating in that weird, silent way they sometimes did. A silent negotiation over my life.
Finally, Jax nodded.
Madoc released me, each finger unpeeling from my skin like he was reluctant to do so.
Neither of them moved, so I was still sandwiched between them. Madoc was cold and still; Jax was hot and vibrating. A tense moment passed where no one spoke. I shifted, feeling awkward.
Then I felt it.
I froze again. Behind me, Madoc stepped back, putting a meager inch between us.
It was too late.
I was now burdened with the knowledge that Madoc had been rock hard against me. Madoc feeling anything was shocking. Hatred, disdain, indifference—they were predictable.
But this?