24. OLIVIA
OLIVIA
For a while, I was floating. A good cry was what I needed, and boy, did it work. My fingers traced the scars across Jax’s chest. I counted them idly— four, five, six—until my eyes grew heavy.
But I couldn’t fall asleep. Not when my mind was still reeling from everything he’d told me.
Jax had a plan.
Of course he had a plan. I should’ve known he would never allow a man like Preacher to own him. He’d just been biding his time, which was impressive considering Jax was not a patient guy. In fact, he was the most hotheaded person I’d ever met.
Except when it came to his crew. His family.
I’m trusting you.
Damn him and his stupid, sincere, post-orgasmic speeches. He caught me at a weak moment. I was pliable against him, soft and wet. I felt downright needy in my desire to crawl into his skin and stay there.
I was so pathetically whipped.
I sighed as I rolled onto my back. My face felt gummy and hot from my embarrassing sobfest. But I felt lighter than I had in months. I could breathe without that niggling pressure in my chest.
Could I really do this?
God, I wanted to.
My heart throbbed with so much want that it felt like it would burst. I pressed my fingers to my chest and counted to a hundred. When I thought about a future with Jax, my heart actually skipped. A hopeless little giggle escaped me.
That was the word for it—hope. I hadn’t realized just how depressing my life had become until suddenly I could see through the fog. I’d resigned myself to being indebted to Preacher forever. I’d convinced myself that it was mine and Molly’s only option. That I could live with it.
I was wrong.
Preacher was confusing and terrifying and scheming. And maybe Jax was right. Preacher didn’t care about me at all. I was expendable.
My heart skipped again, but not in a good way. In a shot-of-pure-anger kind of way.
There were more players in the game than I ever realized. Dr. Z was just one of them—arguably, the bigger one. But there were others, including the Duchess, a new player. Preacher had never mentioned her. But if what the Viper said in the cargo hold was true…
No.
It wasn’t.
It…couldn’t be.
He’d just been toying with me. That was what these twisted crime lords did—they used people like pawns, selling, killing, collecting. I was a pawn. A puppet.
I want to be the one pulling the strings.
I reached out and touched Jax again, unable to help myself. Skin hot under my fingertips. Twitchy muscles. Perfect in his imperfection.
If I had to put my faith in someone, it was definitely him. We might not fully trust each other yet, but I was hoping with time (and hopefully many, many orgasms) we’d reach a point where it became easy.
Just him. And me. And…
There was a knock on the door. I flinched, withdrawing my hand. Jax’s frown deepened, but he didn’t wake up.
Ryle’s voice bled through: “Hey, uh, love birds? There’s an angry blonde woman out here threatening to break down the door…”
I sighed, but it was a happy sound. Reality didn’t seem so dismal anymore. Not with a path forward. A way out. I just had to make sure we landed the plane and made it to Zurich without any more hiccups.
No biggie.
I stood and hissed as pain flared across the bottom of my feet. That was going to suck. I kept hissing as I limped around the bed. I ached for a pair of hotel slippers. And a deep-tissue massage.
Wincing, I cracked open the door. Ryle was waiting on the other side. He gave me a bright grin, like he wasn’t sporting the biggest, puffiest black eye I’d ever seen. I had no idea what happened to the air marshal. I thought it was probably best I didn’t know.
I realized I was also grinning like an idiot and tried to suppress it.
Ryle cocked his brow knowingly. “That good, huh?”
I scoffed. “No. I mean, yes. No. We…didn’t do anything.”
He levelled me with a look. “Girl.”
I laughed, embarrassed. Then Ryle suddenly bashed through the door and pulled me into a violent hug. Even though we were roughly the same height, he was all wiry muscles and sharp edges. He squeezed me until I felt my bones creak.
“Next time someone threatens my life, you fucking let them,” he huffed in my ear.
I went limp in relief. “I’m sorry.”
“Nope. Not accepting that, either.” He slotted his pointy chin onto my shoulder. “Never do that again.”
I said nothing to that, knowing it would be a lie. The truth was, I would do it again. Ryle wasn’t like anyone I’d ever met. He was bottled sunshine. Even when the storm clouds loomed, he found a way to shine through.
“But thanks,” he added softly.
Then he pulled back and pointed to the cabin behind him. “You want me to handle her?”
Lucille’s shrill voice was unmistakable. Part of me wanted to throw in the neck scarf and the uniform and be done with it. But I still had to maintain my cover. I still had a job to do, even when every cell in my body screamed with exhaustion.
“No, that’s okay.”
“You sure?” His grin turned savage. “I could distract her for a few hours. Break open some luggage, find some cool toys. Madoc told me Jax found a dildo…”
At the mention of Madoc, a strange rush filled my chest. It wasn’t fear. Not exactly. But it definitely wasn’t the warm and fuzzies, either.
“Where is Madoc?” I asked, trying to be all casual and breezy. I leaned on the door, then nearly faceplanted when the plane jerked violently.
Even the plane was an asshole.
If Ryle noticed my weird behavior, he didn’t call it out. “Him and Nate are sweeping the plane,” he said. “Apparently Jax knocked out a snake when he was getting into the cargo hold, so they have to deal with him and the other dead guy.”
I made a face. Casual murder. Cute.
“They should be done now, though,” Ryle added with a shrug. “Hopefully that’s it. No stupid final act.”
I punched him in the shoulder. “Don’t say that. Bad juju.”
He pouted and rubbed his shoulder. “Not you, too. Man, when did everyone get so superstitious?”
Lucille’s voice reached a new pitch of hysteria. Ryle and I shared a suffering look before I plastered on my fake smile and hobbled out to face the dragon.
“…and as you can understand, I cannot override the captain’s orders,” Lucille was explaining to a red-faced man who was clearly giving her a serving. Lucille stood tall, unmoved by his growing anger. As much as I hated to admit it, I had developed a kernel of respect for Lucille.
Despite the passengers dying, the plane losing signal, the severe turbulence, and the few hundred furious lawyers threatening to sue, she kept it together. Her scarf was still perfectly knotted to the left.
However, that crumb of respect was quickly swallowed when she whirled on me. “Emily! So good you could finally join us.”
Her tone was sweetly patronizing.
The man also turned, his eyes raking up and down my uniform like it personally offended him. When his eyes lingered a second too long on my chest, I cleared my throat. “Can I help you, sir?”
His cheeks reddened. “No, uh. Never mind.”
He turned and stormed back to his pod, leaving me alone with Lucille. Without an audience, she allowed her polite smile to drop and the claws to extend.
“Where have you been?”
“I felt unwell.”
At her narrow-eyed look, I crossed my arms. Surprisingly, not even her scornful attitude could dampen the happy fizzle in my chest. I wasn’t going to let her rain on my new parade.
“Look,” I said, and her eyebrow arched at my tone.
“I’m not going to give you excuses. I know you think I’m a shitty flight attendant.
And you know what? You’re right. I’ve decided I’m going to switch careers and never do this again.
But,” I pushed on, cutting off her undoubtedly ringing endorsement of my sudden switch, “as of right now, you still need me. And I’m willing to help you. ”
Her lips pursed. “Willing?”
“Yes,” I said. “The moment I step off this plane, you will never see me again.”
That part she clearly liked. She gave me another long, needling look. “You are a very strange girl, Emily.”
I smiled. “You don’t know the half of it.”
She sighed, resigned. “Alright. I already have the other girls doing the safety checklist. You will help me by preparing the cabin for landing. The turbulence damaged some of the overheads, so we need to relocate the luggage into this cabin. Can you handle that?”
I ignored the bite in her tone and nodded. “Absolutely.”
“Good. Now the captain has invoked a full lockdown because of the outbreak—”
“The what?” I blinked at her. Then it clicked. “Oh. Right.”
She gave me a flat look. “In case you missed it during your little nap, we’ve lost three passengers.
Without a proper investigation, we must assume whatever killed them still poses a risk to the remaining passengers.
That means they are not permitted to roam around the cabins.
” Her lips pursed. “They are, understandably, angry about it. You must remain firm.”
“Understood.”
“Good.” She gestured to my feet. “I’m not even going to ask what happened to your shoes. You will go into the staff lockers and find a spare. Then you will come and find me.”
I nodded.
“And if you see Julie, you tell her she will also need to find herself a new job. Absolutely useless…”
For the next hour, I dedicated myself to relocating luggage and fielding complaints from pissy lawyers. Although pissy didn’t quite cover it. They were borderline revolting, pacing the cabin like caged beasts.
“In what universe can they legally detain five hundred people…”
“An outbreak? An outbreak of what? ”
“This has class action written all over it!”
My patience was quickly worn thin. My feet were burning. I was so hungry that I seriously considered eating a half-empty packet of granola I found tucked in a carry-on (I didn’t, because ew).
But I was still optimistic. A glance at the flight map revealed we were coasting over the United Kingdom.
Just four hours to go.
Finally, a light at the end of the tunnel.
I was bending over to retrieve a stray shoe (some of the suitcases had exploded when the overheads broke) when I sensed someone move in behind me.