by Violet Paige
“What are you doing here?” I whispered. I wasn’t ready to accept he was real. That out of nowhere he had appeared.
He slipped into the empty seat next to me.
“That’s hard to answer,” he responded.
I had once drowned in him. Swallowed every gulp of air he had given me, until suddenly he was gone. He cut off my oxygen supply. Without a goodbye. Without closure. Without the finality I deserved.
I shook my head. “No. No. No. You can’t be here. Why are you here?”
“Would you believe anything I told you right now?” he asked.
I looked in his dark eyes. Eyes that used to keep me awake at night. With just one look so much of the past rushed toward me like a tidal wave. I couldn’t get out of its path. I was bathed in it when I didn’t want to be.
“No. I’ll never believe a word that comes out of your mouth,” I admitted.
“Then I guess it doesn’t matter what I say. You won’t believe it or accept it. Should I make something up? Then you’ll at least have options.”
I looked around us. Everything seemed normal, yet eerie. It didn’t make sense that there was another round of beverage service with a ninety-minute flight. The 3B wanted another Bloody Mary. Didn’t she realize that the man that had shattered me was back? That five years had passed without a trace? The most earth-shattering experience of my life was happening right here. Right now. In the first class section on Flight 552.
“How did you know I was sitting in first class?”
“I saw you board late.”
I didn’t believe his lie. Everything in my body told me not to believe him. Not to trust him.
“You didn’t want to say hi earlier?” I folded my arms. “The aisle was blocked or something?”
“Syd, it’s not—”
I felt the punch in my stomach. The revelation came into focus. He wasn’t here to chat or catch up. He had information. AJ always had intel. “You know something is wrong with this flight, don’t you?” I whispered. That might be one thing I did believe.
“Maybe.”
“Damn it, AJ. I don’t have time. None of us might have time.”
“Ok. Yes. It’s the only reason I gave up my cover just now.”
I stared at him. “What are you talking about? You have a cover?” I stopped. “It’s not a coincidence you have a connecting flight from Atlanta to D.C.” It didn’t need to be a question. The answer was in his dark stare.
“No, it isn’t.”
I closed my eyes. I needed a second where AJ wasn’t in the frame. When seeing him next to me didn’t bring back every possible human emotion. Five years was supposed to cure that. Dating other men. Sleeping with other men. Changing professions. Starting a new art was supposed to cure that. But fuck. Maybe there was no cure for AJ Hart. There never had been.
“Syd,” he urged. “I know this is awkward as hell, but we—”
I let my eyes drift open.
“Are we getting ready to die? Is this plane going to crash? That’s why you’re here.”
He sighed. “I don’t want it to.”
“Oh my God. No one wants it to.”
The prickle of fear was stronger now. Nothing made sense. Nothing was on a clear path.
I froze when I heard the speaker overhead buzz with static before the captain’s voice began.
“Good afternoon, folks. This is Captain Beechum. We are only twenty minutes outside of the greater D.C. area, but folks we’ve been advised from air traffic control on the ground that there is a bit of a traffic jam this afternoon. I’m afraid we’re going to have to circle for a while until that situation clears up.”
There were immediate groans around us.
“Sit back and relax while our flight crew serves another round of drinks. I’ll keep you updated when we have clearance to land. Enjoy the flight.”
The radio was silent.
I stared at AJ. “It’s not a traffic backup.”
He shook his head. “No. It’s not.”
“What is it?”
His eyes landed on my laptop. “I’m hoping you can tell me what it is.”
Chapter Six
“You want me to hack for you?” I stared at him.
“Aren’t you already doing it?” he asked. His voice was calm.
“I don’t do that anymore.” I clasped the screen closed, feeling guilty and threatened.
I jerked my head toward him when he placed his hand on my thigh. “It doesn’t matter. You need to do it now. Open it back up.”
It was confusing the way he touched me. The way everything came rushing back with one surge of heat. I remembered everything I had tried to forget about him.
“AJ.” I was on the verge of tears. Crying. Screaming. I wanted to punch and claw. Hug and kiss. Wrap my body around his and forget the pain of the past five years. How could he do this now?
“It shouldn’t be like this. I know that. It’s shitty. But if we make it through this alive, we’ll talk. Ok?”
It still wasn’t enough. It didn’t explain the situation. It didn’t explain why he was here. I shook my head. “How is any of this ok?”
“Syd, I swear. God, I know this is fucked up in every way. Every single way.” He hung his head.
“Five years. It’s been five years.” I buried my face in my hands. “Nothing. You vanished like a ghost.”
The way his fingers dug into my leg somehow grounded me. Reminded me this wasn’t one of my fitful nightmares. This was real. “We both have a lot to say to each other.”
The fiery purple-haired Cindy L. approached us. She held a tray instead of the regular push cart.
“Sir, I’m sorry. You need to return to coach. This seat is for first class passengers only. You can’t be up here.”
AJ revealed a ticket, holding it toward the flight attendant. My mouth hung open when I realized it was for the seat he was sitting in.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” She placed a glass of champagne in his hand. “I didn’t see you here at the beginning of the flight. Were you here? I’m sure that seat was reserved on the manifest.”
He nodded. “It’s all right.” He avoided giving her an explanation. AJ had that irritatingly sexy brooding look that all women fell for, including Cindy L. She seemed to accept his ticket and moved into hostess mode without another argument.
This time I took the alcohol when she offered. I didn’t see how it could make things worse. The champagne bubbles burned my nose, but I chugged until it was gone.
She walked to the next row and AJ set his midnight eyes on me. “Feel better?”
I shook my head. “No.”
“Open the laptop and tell me everything you can about this flight. Do you need the flight number? It’s Flight 552.”
I bristled at the way he tried to command me. “That’s not how this is going to work,” I fired back. I hadn’t come to terms that we had a this to contend with.
There was a time when I would have done anything he asked.
“Please.” He gritted his teeth together. The sharp angles of his jaw moved in unison.
I cracked the lid on my computer. “How did you know something was wrong? Everyone onboard is oblivious.”
“Call it gut instinct.”
I glared. “Instinct? I don’t believe you. You don’t work off instinct. You like facts, AJ. Tangible evidence. But I realize that could have changed.” My words trailed off.
He groaned. “No. It hasn’t changed. The truth is I had a message that the mission was compromised.”
“What mission? What message?” I barked. “I’m not helping you with any of this until you tell me exactly what is going on. Why do you have a ticket for that seat? Why are you on here? What in the hell is going on?”
“I can’t tell you half of that information. You know that. It’s classified.”
“That means you’re still in the Bureau? They communicated with you?”
He cleared his throat when Cindy passed us again. He smiled at her quickly
.
“I’m still with the Bureau. Ok? And yes, I’m in constant contact with them.” He held up his phone. One that I knew was encrypted. “I can’t tell you any more than that.”
“Then I’m not hacking.” I folded my arms over my chest. It was the only leverage I had. I could use my skills as a hostage if I had to.
“I don’t have time. We don’t have time.”
“Then you don’t get what you want.” I glared at him.
“Ok. Fine. One question. But we don’t have a lot of time here. I’ll answer one.”
“What’s the mission the Bureau gave you?” I asked. It was the most vital question. It might shed light on the last hour of my life.
He sighed. “Fuck. That would be the one you’d pick.”
“Yes. Answer it. I want to know what your mission is. It will explain why you’re here. I think,” I added.
“And you’ll do your computer voodoo?” he asked.
I nodded. “Yes. Answer the damn question, AJ. What’s the assignment?” I hissed. I didn’t like how worked up I was. How everything was spinning out of control. I couldn’t get a handle on the rational side of my emotions. They were drowning in the nearness of him.
“It’s you, Syd.”
I pressed him with my eyes. “You’re going to have to elaborate.” My skin tingled. My throat tightened. It was as if I already knew what he was going to say. My entire body was tense and on edge.
“They want you.”
“But I don’t hack anymore,” I blurted. “I’m reformed. I have been since…” I didn’t know how to define the end of us. I couldn’t admit out loud what losing him had done to me. I stopped. The more I argued, the more my guilt seemed plausible. I kept digging myself a hole by denying I didn’t hack.
“I think you misunderstood. It’s not because of illegal hacking. It’s the exact opposite. I’ve been tailing you on all these trips you’ve taken across the country. Following you. Staying nearby.”
“Jesus, AJ. You’re stalking me?” I was horrified and stunned.
“No.” His brow furrowed. “Vetting you. Not stalking. Vetting. Making sure you aren’t compromised.”
I chewed the inside of my cheek. “I don’t understand. What are you saying?” I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that he had been following me. How long had this been going on? What had he watched and witnessed?
“I’m supposed to recruit you, Syd. They want me to bring you in to be one of the good guys this time. You are my mission.”
Chapter Seven
“A recruit?” I almost choked on the words.
AJ nodded his dark head. God, I used to run my fingers through his hair. I’d watch it feather through my fingers when we were in bed. It was longer then. He kept his cut shorter in the FBI. Every part of him had mesmerized me. His perfect lips. His athletic body. The smolder in his eyes. The way his fingertips singed my skin.
“There’s been some activity. We could use your help. They need you on the team, Syd. It could change everything.”
It wasn’t much of an explanation. It didn’t answer half the questions.
“So you followed me to Dallas to see who I’ve been meeting with?” Did he know about Ethan Howard? Had he seen me talk to him in his driveway with Max?
“I gave you what you wanted. Open the computer and find out what’s going on with this airplane. We have a finite fuel supply. You know that. It’s not like there’s a gas station up here in the clouds.” He smirked. “Time is limited.”
I lifted the screen. “I have more questions,” I muttered. “But I’m not going to risk everyone’s lives for my curiosity.”
“They’d probably thank you for that.” He smiled.
I reconnected to the plane’s onboard Wi-Fi and funneled in through the VPN I had created.
“What do you see? What’s the chatter?” He leaned over my shoulder. He was close enough I could inhale his cologne. It wasn’t the same scent he used to wear, but it was just as intoxicating. I had to ignore it.
“Hold on. I need a second.”
I had to jump from platform to platform. It wasn’t as simple as typing in the flight number and pressing search. If there was going to be chatter, it was going to be coded. The dark web had a way of being confusing quickly, if I didn’t pay attention.
I inhaled sharply.
“What is it? Do you see something?” he asked. “Fuck. We need something fast. We need a source.” AJ smiled at Cindy when she walked by with an empty tray.
I shook my head. “No. But someone sees me.”
“Who? Can they help?”
“I don’t know.” I cringed. There was an unfamiliar nervousness in my fingertips I never had when I was on the dark web. It wasn’t natural anymore. This wasn’t where I lived. I had buried this part of me years ago.
I didn’t want to jump back into this life. I didn’t want to reconnect. I didn’t want my old contacts to see I had resurfaced. But if I didn’t, there was a chance everyone onboard might die. So far we were following an elliptical pattern around D.C. AJ was right. The gas would eventually run out. No matter what we were facing on the ground, we were going to have to land at some point. There was an expiration on how long we could circle. The seconds ticked off the clock with every pass of the jet. We couldn’t coast on fumes.
“Ask. Ask him. Now,” he urged.
“Her,” I corrected.
“Fine. Ask her about the flight. Someone has to know something in there. There has to be chatter.”
I typed in a coded message. Diamond Dragon was skittish. At least she had been for the years I had known her online profile. This was a long-shot. I didn’t expect her to respond.
“She re-directed me,” I told him.
“Where?”
“To a room where they’re talking about it.”
“Fuck. How fast can you get in there?”
I held my breath and entered the code. “Now.” I exhaled.
AJ laughed. “Incredible. God, you’re amazing, Syd.”
I couldn’t stop to let the praise warm me. It didn’t mean anything. We were trying to save everyone on board this flight. I had to focus on the dark web chatter. Not AJ’s voice. Not the proximity of his body, or the fact that his hand was still gripping my thigh.
The flight attendant bell rang one row behind our heads. “Hey, I’m not going to make my connection to New York,” the passenger complained.
Jeff walked over, straightening his nametag. I was impressed he could remain calm. AJ shielded my screen.
“Sir, the pilot made an announcement. There is an issue on the ground. We have to circle until we have clearance to land. Can I bring you a beverage while we wait?”
“I don’t want a damn gin and tonic. I need to get to New York. What are you going to do if I miss my flight? I expect a reimbursement. And a new ticket. I only fly first class. Are you going to be able to do that?” It sounded more like a threat than an inquiry.
I tried to keep my head down and scan for chatter, but the backseat passenger wasn’t satisfied.
“As soon as we’re on the ground someone at the gate can assist you,” Jeff explained.
“Why can’t you assist me? There’s internet. You do it,” the passenger argued. “You’re supposed to provide service.”
Jeff smarted back with something incredibly sassy. He had lost his patience and customer service.
“We have to get ahead of this,” AJ spoke lowly. “Circling makes them antsy. Once they get wind of what’s happening, they are going to panic. I have to know what we’re dealing with. The flight crew is trained, but there’s no air marshal on this flight. I’m all we have if things get out of control.”
I could feel his breath along my neck. It wasn’t meant to illicit a response. How did I control my body? How did I stop the reaction? How did I stop the memories of his lips on my body? His breath between my thighs. His tongue tangled with mine.
“How do you know that? They are supposed to be undercover. There
could be an air marshal.” I acted like I knew more about high-level law enforcement than he did.
“I saw the flight manifest beforehand. There is no air marshal. Trust me. I need to know before anyone else what you discover.”
“And then what?” I looked at him. “What are you going to do with a plane full of panicked passengers?”
He tucked his fingers against his jacket and peeled back the buttons. I saw the gun strapped against his chest.
“Holy shit,” I whispered. “What does that solve? We’re on an airplane. Holes equal destabilization. You’ll be the one who kills us all.”
“Shh. Keep doing what you’re doing. That’s what is most important.”
The faster I typed, the more rabbit holes I fell into. I was chasing online ghosts. It was as if they were trying to lead me into phantom chatrooms about the flight. I buried my head in my hands.
“I can’t do this. I can’t. There’s nothing here.” I wondered if Diamond Dragon had purposely sent me on a goose chase.
“You have to keep looking.”
“What if we’re overreacting and this is really just a backup on the ground with other aircraft? A traffic jam like the captain said?”
“I wouldn’t have blown my cover for a traffic jam. My alert was tagged from the bureau and since then I haven’t been able to get a message in or out. It’s like the signal on my phone is jammed. It has to be intentional. We don’t use the same frequencies as everyone else.”
I closed my eyes and leaned into the oversized seat. “Tell me again why you have a cover. You know me. Knew me,” I corrected. “You could have just asked if I wanted to join a team, as you put it.”
It didn’t make sense.
“I wasn’t the one doing the asking. Come on, don’t get off course. Keep at it.”
I shook my head. “No. I need more to go on. There’s more to this. More you aren’t telling me.”
“Like what?” he asked.
“Like the shit you’re keeping from me.”
He exhaled. “We don’t have time.”
“No, we don’t. But I’m going to find out anyway, or we’ll end up in a fiery heap of rubble and it won’t fucking matter.” I didn’t shake. I somehow kept my voice steady. Maybe the idea of dying this way was so preposterous I wouldn’t let myself go there.
