Chapter 8 Cooper
Cooper
“Welcome aboard,” Bucks, Dr. Quinn’s pilot says with a wide grin.
Dr. Quinn offers him a nod. “Good to see you, old man.”
We step onto the stairs of the private jet.
It’s sleek and elegant, a pristine beige with a brown stripe circling the center and the head of a wolf baring its teeth.
The cabin is dimly lit with warm light. It’s cozy and inviting, like a chalet with the gentle snow twirling around while you sit inside snuggled by the fire and drink hot cocoa.
The twelve seats look like soft clouds of leather.
“We’ll take off in ten. I understand some urgent matters have come up at Wolfston.”
“Yes, Bucks, another bloody clan dispute, I’m afraid,” Dr. Quinn says with a wicked smirk. “Those filthy bastards don’t know what’s waiting for them in the woods.”
“Understood, sir,” Bucks says with a chuckle as he disappears into the cockpit.
Dr. Quinn stares at me with a laser focus that could slice me in two, flexing those forearms that could crush a boulder. Or my last straw of restraint.
I mean, I wouldn’t be opposed…
I’m standing on a private jet, about to be surrounded by a sexy madman’s crazed family, what’s the worst that could happen?
“Well what are you waiting for, Mr. Larson.” His eyes signal me to take a seat beside him. “Afraid of the man who saved you from certain death?”
I stutter a few syllables, before snapping out of my haze. “No, not at all,” I murmur, trying to contain the blush of me cheeks while I slide into the cool beige leather.
He looks at me, while I try to strike the perfect balance of keeping it cool, but not too desperate. His eyes flicker with a sense of deranged amusement that only brightens the burning of my cheeks.
“Good boy,” he purrs, those two words slicing through my brain. “I prefer my passengers cooperative. Saves me the trouble of sedating them.”
“Ha. Hilarious,” I snark back, clutching the armrest, the hairs of his arm tickling mine. “Love a man who jokes about misguided anesthesia.”
He turns his head slowly to capture my gaze. “You’d be surprised how often affection and anesthesia can blur together.”
“See, that’s not something normal people would say at a dinner party,” I say, my voice cracking like I’m back in puberty.
“Well good thing I’m not at a dinner party, Mr. Larson,” he murmurs, his lips almost enchanting mine, my cock growing at the speed of light. “I can’t help myself when I’m seated next to reckless students who beg for me to chase them through the woods.”
“Ouch,” I say, as I clutch myself to distract us both from the growing storm in my groin. “That felt targeted.”
“It was.”
His eyes pin me in place as I’m frozen in the seat while the plane rumbles for takeoff. I can feel the heat of his breath radiate against my neck. His lips are exquisitely full, if only I could get another kiss. Another taste of this sinfully delicious killer.
Maybe later…
You need to slow your roll, Cooper. You don’t even know if he saved you just to fuck with you later or if he actually likes you.
I break the silence between us. “So Wolfston. Is it going to be more like Disneyland with the murderous cousins or summer camp vibes?”
He allows a satisfied chuckle to escape from his lips.
“It’s the family estate. Ten thousand acres of remote forest in the North of Maine.
Only accessible by private means. It’s ancient, private, and secure.
Don’t worry, Cooper, I’ll be sure to save the boneyard until day three. It’s not for the faint of heart.”
What the fuck is a boneyard?
A graveyard?
“So, this is where you spent your cozy little childhood? You think we can roast marshmallows over the skulls?” I ask.
“Yes… and maybe if you behave. I don’t need the demons of the past to rise up and rebel against their eternal resting place.”
I arch a brow. “Define behave.”
His hand rises from his side, hovering close to my Adam’s apple like a phantom scalpel waiting to release the blood from my jugular.
“For starters, no scampering off into the forest. No smart quips to my family. And under no circumstances should you engage with a Baptiste if they somehow make it onto the estate. In that case you better run like your life depends on it.”
I let out a snarky laugh. “Run,” I repeat, picturing myself sprinting in slow motion to the backdrop of melodramatic violin music. “Right. I’ll sprint. Right between you and a pack of maple-syrup scented killers? Lovely.”
He watches me with his darkened eyes, like he might make the scalpel slash reality. “Don’t joke about this. They’re savage murderers, and they don’t play fair.”
“Noted.” I puff out a breath of air and lean back into the leather. “But if we’re being honest with another, I’d be a little disappointed if you didn’t drag me into the chaos. You saved me. You’re pretty much required by statute to show me the violent family rite of passage.”
“Required by statute?” he mocks, his lips twitching. “Fine, I’ll show you. But under strict supervision. No one dies without good cause.”
I watch as his knuckles flex against the armrest. There’s a danger to him, one that would make most men quake in their boots.
His gaze drops to my restless fingers twitching back and forth. “Promise me one thing, Cooper. If you feel out of place, tell me. Don’t try to be brave for my sake.”
“Yeah? And how should I let you know?” I ask with a sly smirk.
“Say the word moonlight.”
“Moonlight?” I ask, trying not to laugh. “That’s awfully poetic for a guy who dismembers people under the stars.”
He cracks his neck, the feral flames fading from his pupils. “It’s not meant to be poetic. It’s meant to keep your pulse going.”
“Oh, so it’s a safe word. Cute. I didn’t take you for the type to use them.”
His mouth curves with slight amusement. “Only when I care if the other person survives.”
My brain seizes in a romping bliss. My throat goes dry. Every rational neuron is screaming that this is a bad idea, if there was ever one. I should call my parents and the police as soon as we land and let them know that this man is a serial killer.
But he saved you dumbass. He kind of likes you.
“Well, I guess I’ll have to remember it, just in case you try to kill me in an unorthodox way. With kindness, your stethoscope, a dozen needles.” I joke.
“Don’t worry little mouse, kindness isn’t my weapon of choice.”
Little mouse? Excuse me? My head spasms somewhere between outrage and arousal.
What kind of nickname is that. I’m not weak.
I’m smart. Quick. Capable of memorizing the entire skeletal system after four energy drinks and two panic attacks.
Mice are resourceful. Cute, even. Still coming from him I can’t help but to imagine what else he would call me.
The plane shakes, a little dip in altitude that makes my stomach gurgle. I look over at him and he’s as calm as a rock. “Relax, it’s only turbulence.”
“Sure,” I mutter, gripping the seat. “I didn’t have plane crash on my bingo card this year.”
He chuckles, a slight grin forming from his lips. “You should rest up. You are going to need all the energy you can muster to survive the intro to my family. It’ll take much more courage than a plane crash.”
“What’s the dress code for meeting a pack of professional killers? Do I need a tie? Kevlar? Holy water?”
His eyes dart back and forth, eyes glinting with stifled humor. “Confidence and silence. The rest, I can handle.”
I want to tell him that I’m scared. Be the whiny little boy and collapse into his arms, and beg turn the plane around.
Bring me back to my boring reality of midterms and patient’s puking on scrubs, but that would be a lie.
The truth is, I’ve never felt more alive.
My heart beats in sync with the jet engine, adrenaline tasting like sugar on my tongue.
He leans back, his arms going loose. “Sleep, Cooper. You’ll thank me later.”
I nod but keep my eyes open. I watch him as he settles into rest. The line of his jaw, the combed perfection of his tucked back hair. The manner in which his chest rises and falls in the most subtle way. He’s too composed for a man who should terrify me, yet that’s the most drawing part.
When I finally let my eyelids embrace the darkness, the world fades into the vibration of the plane against the clouds. For the first time in years, my body lets go. I feel weightless, stupidly content.
If being around him kills me, at least I’ll die with my pulse racing and a smile on my face.