He turned and walked back to his vehicle, Sasha watching as he drove away, taking her heart with him.
Chapter23
Sasha stowedher carry-on bag in the overhead compartment, pleased not to feel the slightest objection from her healed ribs or wrist. She closed the compartment, handed her parka to a flight attendant, and took her seat near the window. She rarely flew first class, but after all the publicity surrounding the attack, she was taking extra precautions. So many more people seemed to recognize her now.
She took her phone out of her handbag and sent Darius a quick text.
Boarded. Should arrive at DIA by 9:10 PM. The doc says I’m cleared to climb.
Great news! Have a safe flight! I’ll meet you there.
Sasha put her phone in airplane mode, slipped it into her handbag, and buckled up, just as a flight attendant offered her complimentary champagne.
“Just water. Thanks.”
She looked out the window, unconsciously doing PT exercises with her right wrist, the sullen, gray clouds promising rain again. She couldn’t wait to see the blue Colorado sky, snow-covered mountains, and Darius.
The flight attendant returned with a bottle of bubbly water, a cup, and a napkin. “I saw you on TV and heard what happened. I’m glad you’re okay. My name is Grace. If you need anything…”
Sasha took the water. “That’s sweet of you. Thank you, Grace.”
She’d been in New York for almost a week, arriving last Sunday. On Monday, she was a guest onGood Morning America. She’d spent Tuesday and Wednesday being interviewed for60 Minutes, which was filming a program about her ordeal and the dark side of sports climbing. On Thursday, she’d spent the day talking with a reporter from theTimes. Today, she’d had a visit with the nation’s foremost sports medicine specialist. He’d given Sasha a complete physical, done scans of her ribs and wrist, cleared her to climb again, and asked her to sign the wall in his waiting room.
Lately, it felt like all she’d done was interviews. Scott had arranged a media blitz that had thrilled her sponsors—and consumed much of Sasha’s spare time. Over the past six weeks, she’d spoken with dozens of reporters, most of them asking the same questions. She was relieved to have it all in her rearview mirror and more than ready to put the attack—and Maritza’s betrayal—behind her.
Not that she’d ever truly be able to forget what had happened. Her body had healed, and therapy had helped her mind to heal, too. But even if she were able to forget the attack, the public wouldn’t. Everyone she met brought it up, even strangers like Grace. Besides, neither Maritza’s nor Reiter’s cases had yet been decided, so she still got regular updates from the State Department.
She knew that Maritza had been released from custody and was awaiting trial on criminal charges in Germany, while Reiter was trying to cut a deal with the State Department. Reiter had offered to testify against Maritza if he could skip extradition and be tried for his role in the attack in Austria. In the meantime, he still had to face illegal possession charges in Slovakia.
“They just don’t want to end up in a US prison,” Darius had explained.
It enraged Sasha. “Why do they get a choice when they didn’t give me one?”
From behind her, Sasha heard the airplane door close.
She didn’t like to fly. As the flight attendants started their in-flight safety speech and the plane taxied toward the runway, she did her best to focus on the man who would be waiting for her when she landed.
Sasha hoped Darius got the subtext of her message. The doc had cleared her, which meant they had no reason to hold back in bed. They’d had to be careful these past two months, but now—
The plane took off, leaving Sasha’s stomach on the ground below. She watched New York City recede until it was lost below the clouds, then tried to find a movie to distract her. She picked the latest superhero flick, but before long, she had fallen asleep.
She woke when Grace asked for her meal preference—parmesan chicken or breaded halibut. Neither sounded particularly appetizing to Sasha, not when they came from the galley of an airplane, so she took an energy bar out of her handbag and nibbled that instead.
There were still two hours and forty-five minutes until the plane landed, and Sasha could barely wait.
Darius glanced at his watch.He needed to leave for DIA in an hour.
He climbed out of his vehicle, smoothed his trousers, and walked into the Scarlet Springs Municipal Building, an old one-story wood structure, its wooden floor creaking as he walked to the reception desk. “Darius Silva here for a meeting with—”
A door opened, and Megs stuck her head out. “Silva, in here.”
He gave a nod to the receptionist, who smiled. “Thanks.”
Inside, he found a handful of people he recognized, and some he didn’t, sitting around the conference table. He shook their hands. “Megs. Bob. Marcia. Joe. Good to see you all again.”
An older man in a blue dress shirt and tan slacks got to his feet. “I’m Michael Taylor, the mayor of Scarlet Springs. I think you’ve met my son, Austin, the ranger.”
“Yes.” Darius shook his hand. “Good to meet you.”
