Idris closes his eyes for a second. When he opens them again, his gaze looks pretty patient. “I understand, Stan. I’d be happy with any choice Em makes. She deserves every single thing she wants.”
Stan starts sliding his hand down his chest, inching down to his groin. “Yeah, and that thing could be—”
I cut in, stopping his hand and snatching it into mine. “Like I said, Idris, we’ll do it.”
“Do it,” Stan repeats with a sly look in his gray eyes. “A lot. In every position possible.”
Idris looks between us with a pursed smile while he nods. “For what it’s worth,” he says, “I appreciate the levity. Even if the delivery could use restraint.”
Stan shrugs. “I don’t really do restraint.”
“I’ve noticed,” Idris replies with a small smile. “Thank you. Both of you. I don’t ask lightly when it comes to Em.”
“Yeah,” Stan says. “She’s ours to look out for. However that ends up looking.”
Idris steps back from the bed. “I’ll arrange the logistics and keep you informed. Until then, please keep her close once I’m away.”
He guides all three of us out the door, waiting for it to slide shut before he tells us one more thing in a frantic whisper. Seeing Idris like this doesn’t make sense, but it does as soon as he tells us why he’s doing all of this.
When he gives us a half a smile before going back into Em’s room, I look back at Stan, determined as ever to take care of her. “Let’s not fuck this up.”
“Come on, Ocean Eyes, it’sus.” Stan bumps my shoulder. “Havesome faith. We won’t fuck this up. We’d never let Em down.”
***
We dock in Cairo under a bright sky that doesn’t match the weight we’re carrying off the ship. Sand whips with the warm wind. It’s sunny out here, but the ship looms dark behind us.
The hull locks in with a heavy thunk. Crew voices carry down the gangway. Dock guards start moving people like chess pieces, checking IDs, badges, and baggage. We’re acting like this is a normal end after a trip that was anything but.
It’s a good thing Idris told us about Em. I’m staying by her side every second. She’s here with us physically. Mentally, it’s like she’s somewhere else.
I get the feeling. Losing my family in a fire did that to me. Losing my sister to a monster did worse. Taking Kys made my mind wander without aim. It was a nice distraction from the pain for the year I spent keeping my enemy close.
In the next hour at the docks, Darius and Idris handle the logistics. Plane tickets printed. Names called. Instructions repeated until people stop asking questions.
People peel off in small groups, relieved and eager to get away from the ship. Jon’s especially eager, since Stan won’t stop making jokes about his cutout tongue.
“Listen,” Stan says, strolling backwards, “I’m not sayin’ this trip left anyonespeechless, but Jon took it a little too literally.”
Jon flips him off without breaking stride.
He leans toward me and stage-whispers, “He’s got plenty of bite left. Just, y’know, no tongue.”
I scoff, frowning when he smiles, too pleased with himself.
Cars are waiting on the other side of the docks. Black sedans withtinted windows, engines idling. Inside each one, there’s a driver that gives off the look that they’re paid not to question anything. Security ushers us in. The ship slips out of view.
The drive to the airport is quiet. Cairo passes by in flashes of sun and stone and traffic that doesn’t care what kind of nightmare just docked at its edge.
The airport hits like a slap of summer. High ceilings. Polished floors. Screens blinking arrivals and departures in multiple languages. Voices overlap in waves. Suitcases roll over polished floors.
I’m hovering around Em, but she’s usually beside Idris. His hand rests light at her back, guiding her through the crowd. She follows easy. He catches my eye and makes a small gesture toward a quieter section of seats near a long stretch of windows.
I sit beside her there. Stan drops into the chair on her other side. He’s talking away, filling the space so silence doesn’t crawl in.
Idris and Darius split up to handle everyone getting out. People thank them and move on. Everyone’s being sent home. Different flights. Different cities. People walk like momentum keeps panic away.
We wait by the windows overlooking the tarmac. Planes taxi past in massive sweeps. Idris returns long enough to tell us Damon and Kayla’s flight is inbound, then heads back to Darius to finish triage.
