Daniel pinched the bridge of his nose. A second later, he cuffed me on the back of the head. “Behave!”
I gritted my teeth against the wash of agony.
“Almasi Kipangais a fucking treat for the likes of you, Weaver. Get on your knees and show some goddamn appreciation. Otherwise, I’ll rip out your fucking tongue and ensure peace for the rest of the trip.”
“Ah, as I said, there’s no need for violence.” The captain took another step, prying my hand off the railing and tugging me upward. “Come along, my dear. Let’s get you inside. And don’t you worry about visas and things. Leave it to me. Airport control won’t be an issue.”
Vertigo cast the world in monochromatic greys as I swayed toward the captain. “But—”
Cut barrelled past Daniel—reaching the end of his patience. Grabbing myarse, he shoved me upward, forcing me like unwilling livestock up the final steps. “I have your passport, Nila. Get on the plane.” His breath skated over the back of my neck. “And don’t think about refusing again. Got it?”
Gripping the fuselage, I looked over my shoulder. “My passport? How did you—”
He waved a black binder in my face. “Everything is in here. You have no more excuses, and I won’t ask again. Get on the fucking plane or I’ll knock you out and you can wake up when we get there.”
Daniel laughed as one last shove sprawled me up the final step and into the captain’s arms.
Shit.
“Ah, there you go.” The pilot steadied me, holding my shoulders as I stumbled with another swoop of imbalance. The sickness stole my eyesight before dumping me back into hell.
Find an anchor, hold on tight. Do that and you’ll be alright.
Vaughn.
His little poem for me.
My heart cried for my brother and father. Would I ever see them again?
The captain led me further inside the immaculate plane. He puffed proudly. “See how nice it is? All your concerns are over nothing. We’ll take great care of you.” Patting my hand, he let me go. “Take any seat you like. Don’t forget your seatbelt.”
My eyes widened. He spoke as if this was an innocuous vacation between father and adopted daughter. Did he not see the animosity? Not hear the pre-designed fate?
I opened my mouth to tell him. But what was the point?
He was owned by Cut. Just like diplomats, lawyers, and royals.
He didn’t care.
The remnants of the flu, the vertigo attack, and the fact I hadn’t slept all night caught up with me. Dropping my eyes, I padded to a black leather chair and sat. Trying to clear my thoughts, I hung my head in my hands.
How the hell do I get out of this?
Backing toward the cockpit to free up the gangway for Cut, Daniel, and Marquise, the pilot said, “Pleasure to fly you again, Mr. Hawk.”
“Nice to be back.” Cut nodded, choosing a seat beside the one I’d slumped into. Placing the folder on the small table bolted to the floor, he asked, “All flight plans logged?”
I glanced up, familiarizing myself with the black and chrome interior. Everywhere I looked, the Black Diamond logo embossed everything. From leather seats to plush carpet to window shutters and napkins.
The plane had three zones: two black couches faced each other at the end, a large boardroom table took up the middle section with bolted swivel seats, and eight single chairs took up the front part, looking like any first class on a normal airline.
Not that I’ve ever flown first class.
My heart stuttered. The last time I’d been on a plane, Jethro had drugged me and stolen me from Milan to England on a red-eye. He’d allowed me to text Kite in the bar; all the while hiding it was him.
This far exceeded that flight in luxury, but it was just another glorified cage. And the one person I’d grown to love didn’t even know I’d disappeared.
The captain nodded. “Yes, all logged and ready to go. We’ll have to refuel in Chad as normal, but it should be smooth sailing down to Botswana.”
