The plane left clouds for earth, flying me toward my greatest challenge and worst debt yet. It wasn’t my pain on the line. It wasn’t Vaughn’s like the night with the dice. It was Jethro’s.
The man I’d willingly given my heart to. The man I said I would marry. The man who needed me as much as I needed him.
If I failed, he would die.
And not just die but be tortured until he begged for death.
My ears popped and my arm distended as the airplane tyres skimmed the horizon before skidding onto tarmac.
I didn’t speak as we taxied to the gate. Cut filled in arrival cards, running his fingers possessively over my passport.
My stomach performed circus tricks and trapeze stunts as the air-bridge attached and the flight attendants announced we could disembark. Passengers exploded into action, grabbing cases, children, and blocking the aisle in their rush to leave.
None of them were aware of what a monumental task sat before me.
Stay calm.
Don’t think about what’s in your cast.
Cut grinned, standing upright and holding out his hand. “Ready, Nila?”
I longed to scream and tell the truth. I wished I could tell everyone what I smuggled. If they knew, perhaps they could take away the worry that I wouldn’t make it.
Jethro.
Think of Jethro.
You’ll do this because of Jethro.
Standing, I took Cut’s hand for balance and followed the other passengers onto English soil.
* * * * *
“Miss?”
Shit. Shit.Shit.
I turned slowly, doing my best to swallow my nerves. “Yes?”
“You don’t have any hand luggage to put on the x-ray belt?”
I blinked, holding up the line waiting to go through the body scanner. The new equipment did a better job than the metal detector in Africa. Upgraded facilities, shrewd airport staff, and suspecting officers kept my heart permanently lodged in my throat.
“Oh, no. No bag.”
The middle-aged security guard wrinkled his forehead. “No luggage on a long-haul trip?”
My stomach hurled itself against internal organs, knotting with kidney and spleen. “Well, I—”
“She’s with me.” Cut slung his black briefcase onto the conveyor belt, raising his eyebrow as if daring him to deny it.
I froze.
Why had he come to my rescue? Wasn’t it his intention to make me sweat? To give him reasons to hurt Jethro?Not that he needs a reason.
The man eyed Cut, taking in his expensive clothes and white hairdemanding respect. “Okay...” He glanced back at me, beckoning me to step into the round chamber with its curved glass and two footsteps painted on the floor. “Hold your arms above your head and wait until I tell you to move.”
Tears sprang to my eyes. Tears of fear. Tears of pain.
