Inhaling deeply, I turn my head and softly press my lips to the inside of his palm. It tastes salty. “Yeah, sorry. I should’ve warned you. I…” A tinge of shyness brings heat to my cheeks. I’ve never been ashamed of my silly fear of flying, but suddenly I wish I was as cool and unaffected during takeoff as Niko was. “I’m a little scared of flying.” I avert my eyes, wishing the ground would swallow me whole. “You probably think I’m so uncool now. This is so embarrassing.”
I cover my eyes with my hands, but he peels them away. A fond smile stretches his mouth, making my cheeks heat up for an entirely different reason. “It’s actually pretty common. In the United States alone, about one in five people has some form of fear of flying. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”
Oh, I never realized it was that widespread. It does make me feel a little less shitty about it. “Still—”
“Still, you should’ve told me. I know a trick or two that can help you get over it. I’d have been happy to show them to you.”
Oh my god, Niko will be the end of me. Who would’ve thought that an ex-mercenary would be this nice? Like seriously, there is such a disconnect between who he is, or was, I guess, and how caring and compassionate he is. How the fuck did a sweet man like him become one of the most notorious soldiers for hire?
“What?” Niko asks, lifting one eyebrow.
“What what?” I throw back at him, not about to confess the embarrassing thoughts I had.
He crosses his arms and opens his mouth, likely to challenge me. But he doesn’t get to do that as the plane rocks so violently, it pushes us into the nearby crates. Niko’s arms come around me, strong and firm. His quick reflexes are the only reason I’m not sent tumbling into the cargo on the other side when the flying coffin we are in tilts heavily to the left.
“What the fuck is this?!” I squeal, my heart about to rip a hole in my chest.
Turbulence? But thisbadly? The pilot said the weather was supposed to be nice!
The plane keeps shaking, rocking back and forth and banking sideways as if it’s about to dive headfirst into the ground.
“I don’t know,” Niko grinds out, clutching onto me like he’s afraid that letting go will doom me to my death. He’s probably right, because the entire cargo hold is a mess as crates and weapons and metal frames all get displaced from the violent maneuvers.
I’m having trouble keeping my balance when he starts herding me toward the front of the plane. My head is spinning, my legs barely keep me upright, and I feel sick.
“Look forward!” Niko commands, the authority in his voice reverberating through me.
We are touching in so many places as I am practically plastered to his front, and it’s not even sexual. His warmth, the form of his body, they keep me anchored when all that my brain wants to do is scream and pass out so I don’t have to witness my death when this plane inevitably collides with the earth.
Oh my god.We are gonna die, aren’t we? Don’t tell me I narrowly escaped two deaths only to end up in a stupid plane crash that might not even get covered on the news!
“Thomas!” Niko’s fingers wrap around my chin, tilting my head back. Our gazes meet, and in his I find a bone-rattling determination to survive. “Just focus on breathing. We’ve got time. Don’t pass out on me.”
I study his masculine features, the locks of dark hair that are sticking to his forehead, the sharp angle of his jaw, his regal nose and full lips. And those heart-stopping eyes. I’ve never really been into eyes—I rarely ever notice them, be it color or shape. But with Niko… His expressive, slightly elongated dark brown eyes with their long eyelashes were one of the first things that got my attention.
I nod, but it only makes the nausea worse. My eyes roll back as I force myself to swallow down the urge to throw up, but sharp pain spreads all over my head. That’s it, I’m gonna pass out.
Niko’s fingers dig into my arm and chin, reminding me that he’s still technically hugging me. “Stay with me, Tommy. We’ll get through this. Just stay with me.”
His words are like an order, bringing sudden clarity to my mind. I’ve no idea how long it will last, but I will make the most of it, because,fuck it, I am not dying today. There is just one little problem—how the fuck are we going to salvage this? Is a crashing plane even something we can come back from? According to the documentaries and investigations I’ve seen, the odds really aren’t stacked in our favor.
“How exactly are we gonna do that?” I demand, gritting teeth and keeping my focus on the cockpit door, so I don’t get sick again.
“We’ll take control of the cockpit. Something must have happened to the pilots.”
“Like what? Cabin pressure? We’d be out, too!” We have to be at least 30000 feet above the ground, what the fuck could have happened to them if not that? A stroke? Tobothof them? Unlikely. Instrument failure? Engine loss? It could be so many things! All I know is that the plane wouldn’t be behaving so chaotically if they still had control of it.
“Maybe? I don’t know. It doesn’t matter.”
“Can you even pilot a plane?” I grumble, my stomach turning upside down and inside out and doing all kinds of circus acrobatics. I can’t say I like the feeling.
Niko glares at the cockpit door like it’s wronged him. “Don’t worry about that.”
I suck in a sharp breath and try not to panic. Fuck me, that’s such a blatantno! He’s not a trained pilot, of course he can’t! Between being stuck in a possibly pilotless plane on a crash course that’s shaking like a seven-point earthquake and letting Nikoyoloit as a pilot, I don’t know what’s worse. But I’m pretty sure they both end in a painful death for me.
I press my hand to the white paneling of the walls, needing the solidity to keep me grounded. Niko is a few steps ahead of me now, looking a lot more in control of his balance, but he sways left and right just as I do whenever the plane tilts. He reaches the cockpit door as I get hold of the lavatory handle. A grim thought crosses my mind—what if, I don’t know, we hit something and not just the pilots are out, but the entire plane controls are busted? We’ll really be plunging to our deaths once the fuel runs out or if we take one too many tilts to the left. This bank angle doesn’t feel normal.
Niko tries to open the cockpit door. It won’t give. He grunts and rams one shoulder at it. After the third hit, it swings open.
