“I’m not expecting you to forgive me,” he says.
“That’s the first reasonable thing you’ve said.”
He gnaws at his bottom lip, and the gesture is so at odds with the rest of his perfect, flawless face. Of course he’s a movie star. How could I not have seen it before? Bodyguards don’t have time for things like tanning and getting their eyebrows waxed.
“I want to help though,” he says. “Things could get rough for you for the next little while.”
I snort. “Pretty sure you’ve helped enough.”
“They’ll figure out who you are if they haven’t already. They’ll find your social media.”
“I’m not on social media.”
He sighs. “Of course you aren’t. Please, Jack. I’ve made such a mess of this.”
I’m done giving him space. Done trying to make either of us feel better about this. “You’ve cost me my job and a decent chunk of my self-respect. I think it’s better if we forget this ever happened.”
We don’t speak again, but he also doesn’t move back to his original seat. Once, I glance at him, but he’s turned away from me, so I go back to looking out the window, staring down at the gray shield of the water and the black tips of spruce trees as we turn inward. It’s uncomfortable, and my neck hurts from being stuck in one place. But I’ll deal with that when we land because I can’t look at him.
The trees are giving way to roads and houses when Vin speaks behind me. “Oh fuck.”
“What?” Damian asks.
“Hey!” Vin gets louder. “Is that where we’re supposed to land?”
He doesn’t get a reply, and Damian shifts beside me, his elbow brushing my arm as he leans forward.
“Excuse me,” he says to the pilot. “Are we heading down there?”
“Yes,” the pilot says.
“Is there anywhere else we could go?” Vin asks, voice rising, not to be heard now, but with an edge of agitation I don’t like.
“The flight plan says we’re going there.”
“But what if we... didn’t?” Vin asks.
“What’s going on?” I can’t help the question as the tension rises in the small plane. No one seems to hear me. Vin and Damian are glued to their two small windows, and whatever they see can’t be good, because Vin’s punching at his phone furiously.
“How can we still have no service?” he asks.
“It’s fine,” Damian says.
“I need to call Ivy.”
Damian glances over his shoulder at me, and his expression isn’t the same apologetic one he’s worn since last night. Nor is it the same relaxed one I’d seen so often from David. It’s harder. Stronger.
“It’ll be fine.” But he’s speaking to me now, and I still don’t know what’s going on.
“We’ll have to run for the car. The security Ivy hired better be waiting.” Vin’s still scowling at his phone.
Finally, the plane wheels around so that our views are swapped, and I see what’s got them so worked up as we come in for a landing.
There is a crowd of people.
No. A crowd doesn’t really describe it properly. A... horde? An army. I’m not even sure what I’m looking at, but the people are so tightly packed together I can’t even tell what they’re standing on, whether it’s grass or asphalt or gravel.
The plane comes splashing down and motors resolutely up to the dock. The pilot doesn’t seem at all worried about the throng waiting for us. He kills the engines and turns to us.
