Charlotte:
He’s a catch for sure. Thank you for understanding, or at least pretending to.
Me:
Babe, you upgraded. Trust me, this is going to work out for you.
Charlotte:
One day soon, you two will find your own Louies.
Me:
Nope. I want a boring accountant, someone with a desk job. I don’t want or need a mobster.
Charlotte:
Or a cartel boss.
Me:
Or that.
When the announcement for boarding comes across the loud speaker, I send the girls one last text and jump up. I’m going home, but it feels like I’m leaving something behind. I just don’t know what that something is? Charlotte?
Has to be her.
The entire time I’m standing in line, inching closer and closer to the plane, my stomach turns. And I can’t put my finger on why. I get settled in my aisle seat and take a deep breath. I would have preferred the window but beggars can’t be choosers, right?
I switch my phone to flight mode. It’smidday. I’ll be home around six or seven o’clock tonight. The first thing I’ll do is go to the store and make myself busy. After sleeping last night, I know I won’t sleep again for at least three or four days.
The plane starts to taxi and I breathe another sigh of relief. I really do hope Charlotte will be happy here. I hate that she’s not coming home. Especially considering I’m not sure when I’ll be able to bring myself to come back to this city.
“There’s a slight delay for take-off, ladies and gentlemen. We are required to return to the gate. We’ll get you in the air and eastbound in no time,” the pilot’s voice comes over the speaker, followed by a wave of audible groans. Nobody likes a delay. I wonder why they’re being called back to the gate.
“Do you think there’s something wrong with the plane?” the lady beside me asks, her voice sounding a little panicked.
“I’m sure there isn’t. It’s probably an ill passenger or something. These things happen all the time,” I tell her with my best smile. I’m bullshitting out of my ass, but if I can help ease her worry, it’s worth it.
The woman nods, appearing relieved.
When we get back to the gate, the doors to the plane open again, and I drop my head against the seat and close my eyes. Whatever they’re doing won’t take long. I’m sure of it. I try to relax until the quietshriek from the woman next to me has me jolting upright again. I open my eyes, look to her, and then in front of us.
No… No… Hell fucking no…
“Am I asleep?” I ask aloud. I must be, because there is no way Emmanuel Lopez is making his way down the center aisle. His glare fixed right on me. He looks… pissed, and I can feel all the other passengers staring.
“Ma’am, I’m going to need you to gather your things and come with me,” he says, stopping next to my seat.
I shake my head. “I’m not doing that.”
Emmanuel leans over, his breath bristling the skin on my neck while his hand unfastens my seat belt. “You can either come willingly, or I will throw you over my shoulder and carry your pretty little ass off this plane,” he whispers.
“You wouldn’t!”
“Fine, we’ll do it my way.” He smiles, like that was what he wanted.
When his hands reach for me, I shove them aside.
