“May I?” I ask Alessio, but he’d already answered his phone.
I peek behind the wall and discover a small bedroom. Leo’s lying down on a raised queen-sized bed right next to a large window with his feet crossed at the ankles and his arms folded behind his head.
I climb the steps to see what he’s watching on TV. It’s a view of the cockpit as the pair of pilots prepares for takeoff.
“May I join you?” I ask.
Leo acts as if he’s considering telling me no. “If you promise we won’t study today.”
I sigh. “Fine.”
I lie next to him, and we watch the pilots prepare the airplane for takeoff. Once we start taxiing, I think about the gun I’m supposed to deliver. The woman will search the bathroom for it, and when she leaves empty-handed, she’ll go for my aunt or little brother. Or both.
I’m going to Paris on a private jet, and all I can think about is a weapon that’ll save someone’s life. The irony. I would burst from joy about this trip if only I could hear my uncle’s voice, if only I could know my family would be okay.
I hope my uncle survives. I hope nobody hurts him. Perhaps an angel will look over him.
“I want to be a pilot, you know,” Leo says.
“I didn’t know that. Why a pilot?”
“Because I love airplanes.”
“What do you love about them?”
“They’re nice.”
For the most part, I agree. Except, on this one trip, I sat in the middle of some smelly folks and threw up in the barf bag twice. Once during takeoff. Once during landing. I don’t tell Leo this. He might never even fly in economy because his uncle will give him the world.
We watch the clouds in silence, and as the island disappears from view, tears run down my temples. I wipe them and hope they’ll stop before anyone notices. I’m trying to tell myself that the sadists will know Alessio has left the island and can’t very well expect me to deliver a weapon when I’m not there. But I worry about the reason he took the gun with him. If it’s not his, why carry it?
He's now carrying two. I saw the other one in his holster already.
“Don’t cry, Lake. It’ll be okay.” Leo rolls over and puts his head on my chest and hugs me around my waist. “My uncle won’t let anything bad happen to us.”
Alessio pops his head inside and takes in the scene, namely how his nephew is trying to comfort me. I’m trying not to be sad, but I’m so worried about my uncle now that I can’t meet the extortionists’ demands that I can’t hide my tears.
If they spared my uncle last night, they might end him tonight. I lose hope that the woman will understand why I couldn’t deliver the gun, and I hitch a breath that’s half sob, half plea for Alessio to turn the plane around and go back home.
“A word with you, Lake,” he says.
Leo moves away, and I join Alessio in the cabin. He offers me a seat across from him, and I take it. At the same time, the flight attendant, a short young man with dark hair and eyes, offers me a gray blanket.
He lays it over me. The blanket is heated and weighted. They must all think I’m anxious about flying. I’m not. I’ve got a bunch of murdering maniacs after my family while I’m flying to Paris on a private jet with a dangerous man who likes me and who I will eventually betray.
“Would you like something to drink?” the flight attendant asks.
A bottle of your strongest tequila. “No, thank you.”
“Sir?”
“No, thank you. Leave us, please.”
Uh-oh.
The man closes the cabin door.
“I’m afraid I have some bad news,” Alessio says. “Your uncle is in a hospital with a severe concussion. It appears he fell down the stairs. His neighbor called the ambulance, and now he’s being treated.” When I don’t respond, Alessio leans in. “Lake, he’ll make it. He was bleeding from a cut on his ear and not from any brain damage. He’s just shaken up, is all.”
