Nonstop (Open Skies Book 3)

by Becca Jameson

  Statistically, nothing could possibly happen on this flight.

  She hated the way the human mind could pick and choose what it decided to fear. After all, why flights? Why not bedrooms or sex or men with hands? How did flying become an overnight trigger for her? It couldn’t even be attributed to claustrophobia. She wasn’t afraid of small spaces. Hell, she’d never even had a fear of being kidnapped or taken hostage.

  Granted, she did have nightmares about being choked, but that was expected.

  Bracken leaned in closer to her, whispering in her ear. “You want to take a Xanax, baby?”

  She shook her head. She’d rather hold on to the pills in case of an emergency. She needed to suffer through the entire flight if she could. Otherwise, what would she have gained? She certainly couldn’t take a Xanax any time before work.

  “’K. Just let me know if you change your mind. Would you like to read or talk or something?”

  She turned toward him and forced a small smile. “I’m okay.”

  His lopsided grin told her he didn’t believe her, but he cupped her face and kissed her. His lips slid to her ear again next. “Think about all the things I’m going to do to your body later tonight. That’ll take your mind off flying.”

  She glared at him. “In your parents’ house?”

  He laughed. “Of course. We’re grown adults. They aren’t going to judge us for having sex, baby.”

  She leaned in closer to him. “You keep telling me I’m kind of noisy when I have sex,” she hissed.

  He laughed. “So, we’ll work on that. Besides, the master bedroom and the other bedrooms are on opposite sides of the house.”

  She sent him a side-eye as she turned back to face the front. “We’ll see.”

  He leaned way forward and twisted his face around so that he was looking at her even though she was facing the front. “I just finally got you completely naked underneath me for the first time four days ago. I’m not going a single day without having sex with you, Rebekah.”

  She rolled her eyes, fighting a grin. “I think you’ll live,” she teased, though she was squirming in her seat at the tone of his voice. The suggestion of sex alone was enough to make her body perk up. Maybe if he kept talking dirty to her, she would forget they were on a plane.

  On the flip side, there was no way to take their flirting any further, so maybe it was a bad idea to get all worked up.

  The truth was she couldn’t imagine going without sex either, but she’d never considered how they would do so in his parents’ home. Even the naked part made her nervous. He hadn’t let her sleep with a single stitch of clothing since Tuesday. Did he think she was going to sleep naked in his parents’ home?

  Bex didn’t start to relax until they were getting closer to their destination. If someone on the plane had looked suspicious to Shayla, they would have known by now.

  She was almost relaxed and had even loosened her grip on Bracken’s hand when a commotion behind her made her stiffen and twist her neck to see what was happening.

  What met her gaze made her nearly piss herself. This could not be happening.

  “Fuck,” Bracken muttered.

  Two men were in the aisle. They each had a semi-automatic weapon and a handgun that looked like they had silencers on them. That one fact alone caught her attention. Why on earth would they need to silence their shots if they were going to open fire on a plane?

  Bex’s heart was racing in an instant. She couldn’t think or focus on anything except the illogical silencers. She was only marginally aware that Bracken had unbuckled her seatbelt.

  A moment later, he lifted her out of her seat and slid her into his, buckling her in tightly before taking her spot.

  She started to tremble, but Bracken wasn’t paying any attention to her. Of course. He was planning what to do. He was trained for this sort of thing. There may or may not be an air marshal on the flight, but it didn’t matter. Bracken was far more qualified than any air marshal to handle this situation.

  Bex kept telling herself this over and over while people started screaming.

  The men with the guns came up the aisle slowly, waving their weapons in the air. “Everyone stay in your fucking seats,” one of them yelled. “And quiet the fuck down. I won’t hesitate to shoot someone if you can’t control yourselves. No one needs to get hurt. All we want is the plane.” His voice was loud and deep.

  This was no stereotypical hijacking. These guys were white homegrown terrorists.

  Bracken waited until the men were facing the back of the plane, and then he stood, grabbed Shayla from the front galley, and seated her in the spot he’d vacated. “Buckle yourself in,” he told her, his voice low.

  Shayla jerked her gaze toward Bex.

  Bex held Shayla’s gaze, but she felt numb. Disconnected in a way. As if she were watching this scene unfold instead of being a part of it. Maybe she was dreaming. Maybe it was still the night before and she was asleep worrying about taking this flight.

  Shayla grabbed Bex’s hand. The other flight attendant, Raeann, was in the corner of the galley. Bracken was standing in front of her now, out of the line of sight of the hijackers.

  Bex licked her lips. “This can’t be happening.”

  “No shit,” Shayla whispered.

  The two men continued forward, guns drawn, aiming at anyone who was screaming. Suddenly, the man in the front stopped walking about five rows back from Bex and Shayla. He lifted his handgun and shot a woman right in the forehead. Blood spattered everywhere.

  Bex’s blood ran cold. Her ears started ringing from the paralyzing fear. She wanted to squeeze her eyes closed and curl up in a ball on the floor. She couldn’t move though.

  The volume in the plane went from loud to unbelievably louder in less than a second. People were screaming at a higher decibel now.

  The guy spun around slowly. He shouted over the wailing. “Who’s next? I said to be quiet. Shut the fuck up!”

  The noise level dropped. It got much quieter. All that Bex could hear now was quiet sobbing, a collective sound that extended down the entire plane. When she looked over the rows of seats, she found that most people were huddled together, hugging each other, keeping their heads low. A few men farther back seemed to be sitting upright, looking at each other. Were they planning something?

  The woman who had been shot in the head must have been traveling alone because the man next to her was leaning away, pushing her slumped body toward the window.

  Bex jerked her gaze toward Bracken who was quietly searching through the galley, probably looking for anything he could use as a weapon. It occurred to Bex that it was possible no one in the cockpit knew what was happening yet. And how the hell were these two men going to get into the cockpit? It wasn’t possible. They had to know that.

  On the other hand, where did they get the weapons? If they managed that, they could have something on them that would open the cockpit.

  Bex’s mind was running fast. It was like a switch flipped and she sprang into action, remembering everything she’d ever been taught about situations like this.

  She’d also been prepared and calm when she needed to be with the human trafficker. The fact that the air marshal fucked up and the trafficker took his weapon was no one’s fault. Bex couldn’t have foreseen that. Neither could Christa.

  Bex grabbed Shayla’s arm and leaned in close to her ear. “We have to stop them.”

  Shayla nodded without glancing at Bex. Obviously, neither of them had a plan of any sort. But one glance at Bracken told Bex he was working on it. He was poised, his gaze on Bex. He nodded toward the aisle, brows up high. He needed to know how much time he had without looking.

  She glanced at the first man, the one who’d just shot a woman in the head. He had a scar running down the left side of his face from the corner of his eye. He was inching closer. Three rows back now. Bex held three fingers out, keeping her hand low.

  Bracken nodded.

  Raeann crouched down low behind him
at his silent instructions.

  Adrenaline pumped through Bex. She was both scared out of her mind and calm at the same time. Calmer than she had been during the entire flight. She had no choice.

  What if something happened to Bracken? She would never survive if he was injured or worse, killed. She had to trust he knew what he was doing. He had the skills. She had to believe.

  The passengers closest to Bex were crying harder now that the hijacker was closer to them.

  The man was about six feet tall, built, tattoos up and down his arms. His hair was shaved close to his head. He wore a black T-shirt. His bulging biceps were all the warning Bex needed that it was going to be difficult, if not impossible, to overpower these two guys. The second man had a similar look, an inch or two shorter without the scar.

  Fuck. Think.

  Bex glanced around again and then held two fingers down for Bracken to see.

  He nodded.

  When the guy reached the first row, he turned toward Shayla, gun close to her forehead. “You’re the fucking stewardess.”

  She nodded, her eyes wide as she leaned back.

  “Why are you sitting down? Get me a fucking drink. Whisky.”

  She tried to undo her seatbelt, but her fingers were shaking.

  The man grabbed her by the hair and tugged hard. “Now, bitch.”

  She was crying.

  Bex unbuckled her own seatbelt and reached for the man’s hand on the back of Shayla’s hair. “I’ll get it.”

  The guy jerked his attention toward Bex, frowning. “Who the fuck are you?”

  “I work for the airline too. I know where the drinks are.”

  The man reached down and unbuckled Shayla’s belt for her, dragging her off the seat and then yanking her back against his chest. He held his handgun to her head. The semi-automatic was swinging at his shoulder. “Perfect. I’ll hold on to her. You make me a damn drink.”

  Bex scrambled from her seat and hurried toward Bracken, who was opening drawers, probably looking for the booze. Scar spun around, pulled Shayla closer, and moved the two of them toward the door on the other side of the galley. “Who the fuck are you?” he shouted at Bracken.

  Bracken held his hands up. “Just a passenger. No reason to hurt anyone, dude. I’m sure we can make sure you get what you want.”

  The guy cackled. “Right now, I want a Goddamn drink. What about you, CJ?”

  “I could go for a drink,” the second guy said over his shoulder. He’d taken up a position at the front of the aisle with his gun panning the entire plane. “Everyone stay in their fucking seats. Nobody moves. You move, I shoot you.”

  Bex glanced at Raeann, who was still in a ball on the floor. She jerked open the liquor drawer and found the whisky. “Neat?” she asked the man as calmly as possible while she twisted off the cap.

  “Just give me the fucking bottle, bitch.” Scar reached out and grabbed it, immediately downing it, and then holding Shayla once again. At no point did he lower his gun from her temple.

  Bex grabbed a second bottle, opened it with shaky hands, and set it on the outstretched palm of the second hijacker. Some of it sloshed out, but he downed most of it. Was this going to help the situation? Probably not.

  “You,” the man holding Shayla shouted toward Bracken. “Get the fuck out of the way.”

  Bracken kept his hands up, smashing himself against the galley. Bracken was a big man though. Getting out of the way in an airplane galley was a joke.

  Bex took a step forward. “Why don’t you let her go,” she nodded at Shayla. “You’re scaring the passengers.”

  The man cackled. “You think I give a fuck about the damn passengers?”

  Bex swallowed, wincing as the man pressed the barrel of his gun into Shayla’s head.

  Shayla was crying, her hands gripping the man’s arm around her waist.

  He held her tighter. “Stop whining, bitch.”

  Bex forced herself to remain calm. “Listen. Tell me what you want, and I’ll start working on it.” She had no idea where her instinct to pull her shit together came from, but she was glad.

  “What I want is for you to shut the fuck up and sit down,” he shouted. He jerked Shayla’s body so hard that she screamed.

  For a moment Bex thought he was going to shoot her, and panic set in. Think, Bex, think. “Listen, let her go. Take me instead.”

  The man stared at Bex for a second and then shoved Shayla hard toward the seats and grabbed Bex by the arm. He nearly yanked it out of the socket, tugging her against his chest before holding the gun against her head now. “Fine, but if you make a single sound, I’ll shoot the other girl.”

  Bex nodded. She was scared out of her mind, but this wasn’t her first rodeo. She was relieved to have gotten Shayla away from imminent danger. When she glanced at Bracken, he was growling. There was a good chance he was going to read her the riot act later, but right now what mattered was saving her friend. Surely, he could understand her reasoning.

  Bracken finally spoke. “What do you need, man?”

  The man ignored Bracken and turned to his buddy, CJ. “Get to work on the door. I’ll watch the passengers.”

  CJ nodded and spun around, then crouched down in front of the cockpit.

  Bex couldn’t imagine what his plan was, but if they intended to take over the plane, they undoubtedly had the means to get past the door. She wondered again if the pilots knew what was happening.

  Suddenly the plane dropped so fast and so hard that everyone not buckled in was thrown hard against the walls. Loud screaming filled the aircraft.

  Bex somehow managed to watch CJ as he lost control of his bag of tricks, most of the contents flying into the air and landing all around. She didn’t recognize anything but worried he had the makings of a bomb. How the fuck had these two managed to board with so many weapons?

  Her arm hurt where she’d taken the brunt of the impact against the door handle.

  Bracken was gripping one of the drink carts. Raeann was behind him, rubbing her head. She must have gotten slammed into another cart.

  Two of the carts were loose and dislodged, sticking out a few inches, and Bracken was staring at them, hopefully coming up with a plan.

  The question about whether or not the pilots were aware seemed obvious now. Bex had to assume one of the flight attendants in the back of the plane had called into the cockpit to alert them. Sudden drops in altitude were a standard practice to disrupt any kind of disturbance.

  The cold barrel of the gun was pressed against Bex’s temple as the man gritted into her ear. “You. Fucking call into the cockpit and tell them if they pull a stunt like that again, I’m shooting five people.”

  Bex’s hand was shaking as she reached for the phone and held it to her ear. Just as she was about to speak, the man grabbed the phone from her and shouted into it himself. “You’ll keep this plane steady or I’ll start shooting passengers, understood?” He was shouting loud enough for several rows of passengers to hear him, causing panic to ripple down the rows of seats.

  Bex willed the people to be quiet, but she also knew how hard that was.

  The man slammed the phone back down and stepped closer to CJ, his hand on Bex’s jaw. “Hurry up.”

  “I’m trying.” CJ was scrambling to grab everything he needed from around him.

  Bex watched as Bracken’s foot landed on something and then pulled it back, shoving it behind him. She was a bit surprised when Raeann reached out from her squatting position, grabbed the item, and tucked it behind the last drink cart. Hopefully, it was important.

  CJ kept looking around. “Fuck.”

  “What the fuck is wrong?”

  “The fucking fuse is missing.” He stood and spun around.

  Bracken pressed back out of the way as if he didn’t want to get involved.

  When Bex’s assailant let his hand slide down to her neck, she panicked. Her mind went someplace else. It was like she left her body and flashed back to the rapist who held her against th
e wall in that bedroom when she was sixteen. Her next vision was of the trafficker gripping Christa by the neck.

  Bex forced herself to remain calm. He wasn’t cutting off her airway. Panicking was not going to help this situation at all. She needed to be strong. Stay alert. Pay attention to everything around her. She was beyond grateful to have taken Shayla’s place. That was all that mattered here, but it wouldn’t do any good if all of them died in a crash.

  Suddenly Scar shouted at his partner. “Get the fuck out of the way. I’ll shoot through the door.”

  Bex stiffened. There was no time to react. One second later the man shot four rounds into the locking mechanism and the door swung open.

  It seemed like ten things happened at once.

  Bracken grabbed CJ’s gun from him and shot him in the head. This is what Bex was watching with wide, horrified eyes while Scar, still holding Bex, opened fire into the cockpit.

  Screams filled the plane once again, and Bex jerked her attention back to Bracken just as he turned his aim at her assailant. She squeezed her eyes closed, praying she didn’t get shot while at the same time knowing that she would sacrifice herself for the good of the rest of the plane. If all of these people were saved, she would gladly give her own life.

  A pop sounded close to her ear, and suddenly the hand around her neck dropped as the man fell to the ground.

  Bex jumped to avoid being taken down with him, sucking in oxygen even though he hadn’t really cut off her air supply. Her ears were ringing louder now, all the sounds around her muffled. For a moment, she thought she’d been the one shot.

  Bracken lowered the gun and grabbed Bex by the arm, forcing her to look at him. “You okay?”

  She nodded as he rushed into the cockpit. The plane was steadily losing altitude. She stepped into the doorway behind him, wanting to assess the damage and find out what they would need. She could see if there was another pilot on the plane.

  She gasped when she noticed one pilot—the first officer—was slumped over the controls, apparently dead, and the other pilot—the captain—was holding his shoulder, gasping in pain.

  Bracken turned around. “Find out if there’s a pilot on board.”