“No worries. Just… be careful. You’ve got history with this one.”
“Yeah. History, scars, and maybe a shot at closure.” I run a hand over my face, hoping I can get some fucking closure.
“Or another round of trauma.” Dom chuckles down the phone.
“We’ll see.” I cancel the call, text over the details, then place my phone in my trouser pocket and shrug off my jacket, needing to cool down. My fingers fiddle with the overhead air conditioning and I relax into the seat, wiping my brow as it blows cool air onto my face.
I chew, slow and steady, the gum the only thing keeping me from losing my shit completely. The nausea is still raging in my belly, but now the impending flight is not the main cause.
Rose, or Grace, carries on directing passengers as they board the plane, keeping her cool and professionalism, unlike me. One heated glance from her and I’m a fucking mess. I lean my head back and close my eyes, slowing down my breathing and counting to five. Twelve years in the army and ten years in espionage and it’s a woman to bring me to my fucking knees.
“Sir?” A soft voice has me opening my eyes, but it’s not her. “Are you all right?”
“No. Can you ask your colleague to bring me a hot towel, please?”
A hot towel?
I wipe my top lip and curse myself inwardly for being so fucking pathetic.
“I can get that for you, sir.” She gives me a warm smile, but it’s not her I want. “I need to talk with your colleague. Please.” Rose may be like a thorn in my side, but I’m a glutton for punishment and now I have her in my grasp. I can’t let her go again.
The girl nods. “I’ll see what I can do, sir.”
I lean back in the seat, inhaling the cold air from the blowers. I know it’s a recipe for germs, but it’s the only thing keeping me cool.
“You asked for me?”
I peel open my eyes to Rose in the aisle next to my seat , a wrinkle between her eyebrows as she studies me. Heat billows in my chest as if her gaze has melted the ice around my heart and set it alight.
“Are you all right?” She folds a hot towel in her hand. “You’re burning up.”
I take it fromher and dab my forehead. “I’ll be fine once we’re in the air. It’s just takeoff that gives me bad memories.”
“As soon as we’re in flight, I’ll get you a drink to take the edge off. Would you like a water or anything before takeoff?”
“I have a bottle of water.” I hand her the towel back.
Her touch soothes me as she presses it against my cheek. “Try to relax. I won’t let anything happen to you.” She places the towel onto the tray and turns around.
I reach out and grab her wrist. “Rose.”
She turns around with a smile. “It’s Grace, sir.”
“Thank you,” I say, but she’s already walking away.
She can call herself whatever she likes.
But she’ll always be my Rose.
The one whose thorns stabbed me in the back.
2
ROSE
“What was all that about with Mr. Inferno back there?” my colleague, Lisa says as we buckle up, ready for takeoff.
“Mr. Inferno?” I stare blankly, my head still whirling as if caught in a tailspin.
