by Jade West
I could see the rage in Lucian’s eyes.
“Right,” he said. “So let’s get down to it. What the fuck do you want?”
“I want two hundred and fifty K extra,” the guy announced. “Or I’ll turn you in myself right now.”
Lucian’s voice was as angry as his face.
“You want two hundred and fifty fucking K extra for two sets of fucking IDs, some plane tickets and a pair of fucking glasses?”
The guy shrugged. “Your call, what’s it gonna be? You know everyone is after you, just as well as I do. You pay up, or you’re dead. Both of you.”
Lucian’s voice was evil. “You’re lucky I can’t break your neck.”
“Yeah, I am,” the guy said, and he laughed. “So, do we have a deal?”
Lucian paced over to me and took the cases of cash from the floor.
“Yeah, we have a deal.”
They swapped cases and the guy smirked.
“Nice doing business with you.” He gestured to the airport building. “You’d better make a run for it, you ain’t gonna survive long around here. Whole fucking city is looking for you.”
“Just as well we won’t be around here for long, then, isn’t it? Flight’s at eight fifteen?”
“Yeah.” The guy nodded. “Three hours. You’d better get over there and get checked in.”
I was so scared I was shuddering as his car pulled away from us and the other one followed behind him. Lucian was straight back over to my side once they were out of view. He tipped my face up to his and kissed my forehead, then wrapped me up tight in his arms.
“Here we go, sweetheart,” he said. “We have a shot at it. Maybe, just maybe, we’ll truly make it across the Atlantic. Just as well we had enough cash in those cases for that asshole, isn’t it? The guy’s a fucking moron. He could have billed my father ten times that, just for my whereabouts.”
It was only when I heard the tone of relief in his voice that I realized just how unsure he’d been that this deal would happen at all.
Yep. He’d been as terrified as I had, he’d just been better at hiding it.
“Let’s do this, then, baby,” I said to him with a smile. “Let’s go see the London Eye.”
12
Lucian
There was a new flame of life inside me as I realized how I was feeling as I prepared Elaine with her fake ID ready to head into the airport. I was far more concerned that she would make it out of the country alive than I would. Far more concerned that she could stay alive than I was about staying alive myself.
She looked at her new passport.
“Okay, so I’m Penelope Anne Jackson from here on out?”
“Yes,” I told her. “And you’re sitting in seat twenty-nine C of Flight 181. NYC to London Heathrow.”
“Great,” she said. “And who are you?”
I opened up my new ID.
“I’m Jason Ryan Reynolds, sitting in seat thirty-seven A of Flight 181. NYC to London Heathrow.”
She looked sad.
“It’s so shit we can’t sit together at least.”
“Yes, it is,” I said. “But not nearly so shit as it would be to attract attention. They are way more likely to question our identity if they see us next to each other. If anyone finds us before we are off on our own in London, then we’re done for.”
“Yeah, I know,” she replied, and gave a cute little shrug.
I unzipped her friend’s battered old suitcase and put a few of our remaining bundles of cash in there amongst her clothes. I’d already ditched my weaponry in the trash and wrapped my own bundles of cash up in my own suitcase. Now that we were truly ready to go, I felt uncomfortably vulnerable.
I fucking hated feeling vulnerable.
“If I don’t make it through,” I told her. “You get to London and you carry on as long as you can, with or without me.”
Her perfect blue eyes were so fucking scared.
“But I don’t want to make it through without you,” she said. “I’d rather die alongside you than exist apart.”
“That’s a beautiful thing to say, Elaine, but regardless. You get to London and you carry on, regardless.”
I knew from her expression that she had no intention of doing that.
“Elaine,” I pushed. “You get to London and you keep going, do you understand me? I want you to swear it.”
She let out a sigh. “But I don’t want to swear it. I don’t want to keep going without you. There is no me without you. Not anymore!”
Having someone feel that way about me was a strange sensation and always would be. Her mouth was so pretty, lips pursed in defiance.
“I mean it, Lucian,” she said. “I don’t want to swear it. We make it together, or not at all.”
I stared at her, hard. I soaked in every little detail of her in that moment and fell in love with her all over again. She did it. She won the battle.
“Fine,” I told her with a hiss. “Don’t swear it, but please do think about running with or without me if you make it to London.”
She looked as surprised as I felt that I was backing down for once in my life. I never gave in. Not ever. But with her I had. With her I’d backed the fuck down.
She was smiling as we began to walk along with the suitcases, and I knew that she was thinking just the same as I was. She was thinking about how I’d let her win the battle.
“Don’t expect this to become a habit,” I told her. “When I say something, I always mean it. If I say I want you to swear something, I’ll damn well want you to swear it.”
She shrugged, shooting me a mischievous glance, even though we were both fucked with the stress and her bandaged chest.
“We’ll see about that when the time comes, I guess.”
“We’ll see about that when the time comes, I hope,” I said. “We might not even make it out of the country yet.”
She dropped her suitcase on the floor and pulled me towards her as soon as the main entrance came into view.
“Fuck, I’m scared,” she said, and the sassiness in her voice had shriveled up and gone. “Once we head in there, that’s it. We make it or we don’t, don’t we?”
I dropped my suitcases on the ground and held her tight. As tight as I dared through her healing wound.
“We’ll make it,” I told her, wishing I was as sure as I sounded. “Tomorrow evening we’ll be on the other side of the Atlantic, Penelope Anne Jackson and Jason Ryan Reynolds beginning their new life together.”
I kissed her once, hard and deep, before I sent her on ahead to the entrance. “Do this,” I said. “I’ll be behind you, just pretend I’m not. We can’t be seen together.”
She nodded. “Okay.”
“Okay,” I confirmed. “Go do it, Penelope. Go check in for Flight 181.”
She looked back at me once over her shoulder before she reached the main doors with her suitcase in tow, but that was all. I hung back until she was out of view before I put my new fake glasses on and made my own way through the airport.
It was busy, people mingling and chatting and pacing around on missions to different check-in desks. Security were alert but hardly ready to pounce. I walked right on past several of them without them shooting me the slightest glance.
My hopes were true. Believable. We might just make it.
I caught sight of Elaine’s blonde hair as she bobbed her way through one of the terminals. I kept at a safe distance.
My beautiful girl really did look like a regular airport-goer making her way to a transatlantic flight. I only hoped I looked like enough of one to make it onto the plane with her.
She was at security ahead of me. She put her suitcases onto the conveyor belt for scanning and stepped on up with her ID to the counter while I hung back even more, pretending to search in my bag for something as several people stepped up ahead of me in the line.
Elaine was through the desk and out the other side with her baggage before I joined the line for definite.
My heart was po
unding as I showed the same attendant my passport. Please, just don’t fucking question me.
The seconds were hours as she looked from me to the fake photo and back again. My fake glasses felt like clumsy weights against my face and my smile felt fake to match.
I could have leapt up with a hallelujah when she waved me on through and my baggage arrived on the conveyor belt on the other side. My heart was still racing as I picked up my bags and headed towards the terminal, but not as fast as it was racing when I saw my beautiful Elaine hovering next to a seating area, eyes wide as she watched for me.
Her smile made my soul soar.
The relief on her face was a blessing from the lord above.
I gave her the slightest nod, because I couldn’t draw any more attention to us, but it was enough that she nodded right back at me, then dashed her way along the corridor, heading closer to Flight 181. Yet again, I held back. Waiting. Praying.
She must have already been through check-in when I reached the desk, as there was no sign of her in the line.
Here we were. The true make-or-break moment. If we got through here and onto the plane… if only…
The gate attendant was chirpy when she looked at my plane ticket and passport. Her smile was bland, but welcome.
“Good evening, Mr. Reynolds. I hope you enjoy your flight. Thanks for joining Jettison Air today.”
I gave nothing more than a nod and pushed my glasses up higher on my nose.
My suitcases were gone. Taken for the flight. There was just me now, and a cruddy little briefcase with my essentials in it, all set for travel.
Yes. Thank fuck. I was there. I’d been accepted through check-in and allowed through to the lounge, all ready to board the flight.
And there she was, my beautiful Elaine, sitting in her own little bench seat on the other side of the lounge, staring right on over at me as I stepped inside.
We’d done it.
We’d made it through the airport.
Now we just needed to make it onto the damn plane and off the other side.
13
Elaine
I stared at the plane ticket. Seat 29C. Flight 181. NYC to London Heathrow.
I was still in shock that I’d made it through security and check-in with nobody saying a word, but I had. Praise God, it seemed Lucian had, too. My whole body flooded with relief when he stepped on into the lounge and took a seat at the other end of the room from me. We were both there. Together, though it seemed apart.
I’d never been so happy in my life.
Other travelers came and filled up the lounge around us, busy with their own business and without giving us too much interest. There was chatter, and excitement, and people busy on their cell phones, while I just stared at the plane ticket in my hands, truly trying to believe this was happening.
Seat 29C of Flight 181. NYC to London Heathrow.
I was now Penelope Anne Jackson and I was going to London. We were going to London.
The voices of a couple sitting next to me were enough to pull me out of my trance. My stomach dropped right down to the pits when I heard their words.
Can you believe it? Lionel Constantine is really dead! Shot on a golf course. It’s just crazy. CRAZY.
First Elaine Constantine gets kidnapped and then her uncle gets murdered!
Yeah, and you know what they’re saying, right? They’re saying it’s Lucian Morelli who kidnapped Elaine! They think that journalist guy was really him!
Madness. It’s fucking madness.
Holy shit, it hit me hard, but I just kept on staring and praying, barely risking a breath since I was sitting right next to them.
I kept my attention on my plane ticket. My thoughts trying to be a mantra.
Seat 29C of Flight 181. NYC to London Heathrow
Penelope Anne Jackson.
The mantra didn’t last long as the couple carried on talking.
You don’t really think Lucian Morelli kidnapped and murdered Elaine Constantine, do you?
I dunno. I’ve heard people saying that he was fucking her. That they were dating or something.
Fuck knows, then. Whole thing seems crazy.
What seemed even crazier was that the both of us were sitting in the same damn room and nobody had noticed.
I chanced one quick little glance at Lucian and he was sitting mute, staring ahead of him. His glasses looked weird on his nose, distracting just a little from the true sculpture of his face. Yeah. They were doing their job. They were helping to make him look a little bit more like Jason Ryan Reynolds and a little less like the man who was wanted for murder.
I heard someone on the news saying that Lucian Morelli was chasing Elaine down so hard at a club that he kneed some security guy in the stomach and threatened to kill him if he didn’t let him through.
Maybe he really is the one who kidnapped her. They think she’s dead.
I was so relieved when the attendants called us for our flight that I leapt up out of my seat and dashed straight over to the doorway. I was right at the front of the line with a big, fake smile on my face as the attendant started letting us through.
“Enjoy your flight,” she told me, and I thanked her with another big, fake smile.
I was straight onto the plane and up the aisle. Seat 29C. 29C. 29C.
It was on the right-hand side of the aisle, next to the window. I sat myself down and stared out, heart racing so fast I could feel the thump in my ears.
I could sense Lucian walk up the aisle between other passengers. I twisted in my seat just enough to see him walk right on up to row 37.
Yes.
He’d made it.
I couldn’t believe it when the same damn couple from the lounge came along to sit in the seats next to me. They got themselves ready for the flight, loading up their baggage into the overhead compartments. This time the woman actually looked at me and smiled as she sat herself down.
“Hey,” she said, and I smiled back.
“Hey.”
Then I did it. I tried it out for the first time.
“I’m Penelope.”
“Carrie-Ann,” she said back. “You off to London on vacation?”
I nodded. “Yeah, I’m off on vacation. Got family over there.”
“Cool,” she said. “We’re off on vacation, too. Been wanting to go since I was a kid.”
She got herself comfortable and then she started up conversation with her boyfriend. I let out a long slow breath of relief when her attention was gone from me.
We could do this. We really could.
In the face of two people literally talking about my abduction, I could introduce myself as Penelope Jackson and get away with it. That was one hell of a blessing I was grateful to receive.
The attendants did their safety demonstration and we got buckled in ready to fly. The takeoff was a brilliant rumble up the runway and soon we were up there, high in the sky and leaving NYC behind in the distance.
Under normal circumstances I’d be enjoying myself, but every second felt like a year as I begged the universe that we’d make it across the Atlantic and off at the other side.
The flight was long as we flew into the night. The sky was dark. Sleep was anywhere but with me as the lights dimmed down around me.
The couple next to me were pretty good at snoozing. They had eye masks and those neck pillows to help them sleep, and drifted off just fine. Eye masks and neck pillows would have done jack shit to help me. I was well and truly wired.
I tried watching bland movies on the back of the seat in front, but nothing held my interest. The only thing on my mind was my beautiful monster a few rows back. Being away from him, even just for a few long hours, felt like hell. That and the pain in my chest that was still hurting raw.
At least I’d survived it. Lucian had made sure of it.
The flight attendant came up and down the aisle offering hot drinks. I took a black coffee and sipped at the caffeine like it was some sacred fountain of life. That was my main add
iction now—caffeine.
The thought of alcohol and cocaine abuse felt so removed it was alien. Insane. The thought of anything to do with my previous life felt so removed it was alien, even though in reality it was just a few short weeks ago that I was holed up in my hellhole of a world.
Mom, Harriet, Silas, Tinsley. Tristan. Jemma. I wondered if I’d ever speak to any of them again, let alone ever see them. It gave me a surprising lump in my throat when I thought of my mother. Harriet and Tristan and Jemma, sure, I’d be prepared to cry over, but my mom? I never expected to cry over her, but I couldn’t deny it. There was a tear in my eye as I pictured the smile I rarely saw from her.
Somehow I doubted she’d be crying over me anytime soon. That was the thought that truly made my tears fall.
Mom wouldn’t be crying over me. She’d be glad I was gone.
I think I must have finally managed to drift off to sleep in the very early hours of the morning. The sun was up and the morning was bright when I squirmed into life after a few hours of unconsciousness, and the couple next to me were already awake watching movies with headphones on. I stared right on out of the window and I saw the land under us, cities and roads mapping out the veins of the UK.
We’d done it. We had crossed the Atlantic.
The attendants did one more pass through the aisle and I took one more cup of coffee before asking the couple next to me to get up from their seats so I could take a pee in the bathroom.
I had tickles running through me as I walked up towards the rear of the plane. I held my breath as I passed right by him. Lucian. Only he wasn’t Lucian anymore, he was Jason Ryan Reynolds.
His smile was calm, but his eyes were anything but stoic behind his glasses when they met mine.
It sent my heart racing to see the truth in them, because there was no denying it. Lucian was as desperate for me as I was desperate for him. Both of us. Hungry. Needy. Horny.
Both of us happy, too.
