Mafia Romance

by Aleatha Romig, Skye Warren, Annika Martin, Natasha Knight, Kaye Blue, Michelle St. James, Renee Rose, Parker S. Huntington, Alexis Abbott, Willow Winters

“No, there will be a vehicle. Your trip will be quicker. The drive is at least another hour. The cabin staff has been notified of our arrival and scrambled to prepare, but we’re needed to bring a few more supplies.”

  “I can ride with you,” I said excitedly.

  She shook her head. “No, ma’am, Mr. Sparrow’s directions aren’t negotiable.”

  “I’ve never been in a helicopter,” I admitted, my anxiety audible.

  Her customary smile returned as she tilted her head sympathetically. “Mr. Sparrow would never risk his or Patrick’s safety. I have every reason to believe that sentiment extends to you also. I assure you, the helicopter is the quickest and safest mode of transportation. Perhaps we’ll return to the plane in the daylight and you’ll see the beautiful yet dangerous terrain. The roads are…interesting.”

  “Would you rather fly?” I asked, sensing her unease.

  “Ma’am, that isn’t for me to say.”

  “Can the helicopter accommodate one more passenger?”

  “It depends on the one they sent.”

  Holy crap, he has multiple helicopters, too.

  “But,” she went on, “I would presume that it could.”

  Sterling’s words came back to me from when I’d asked Patrick for my suitcases. Whatever she says, listen to her. I reached out and took ahold of Jana’s hand. “I’d like you to come with me. You’ve been so reassuring. I think it would be nice to have another woman along.”

  “Ma’am, as I said—”

  “Kenni—Araneae.” I corrected, using the uncommon name. “Please call me Araneae.” I pronounced it as Sterling had many, many times—uh-rain-ā. “And I’ll inform Mr. Sparrow.”

  “I-I don’t want to seem insubordinate…”

  Her words trailed away.

  “On the contrary, you’ll be helping me out. Since the luggage is coming to the cabin later, let’s go throw some things in my carry-on for the rest of the night, and then Keaton can deal with the rest.” I turned to Jana. “Do you have a bag…personal things to stay?”

  “Yes, ma’am…” She smiled. “I mean Araneae. It’s customary. We’re never certain of Mr. Sparrow’s plans.”

  I narrowed my gaze. “Why do you do it? Why put up with him?”

  She didn’t hesitate. “Because I could never thank him enough for what he’s done. A day or two of unexpected travel is a small price.”

  I wanted to ask what he’d done, what warranted that type of loyalty, but time was of the essence. The door was opening, and soon I’d be expected in a helicopter—in a fucking helicopter.

  “Are you sure about my traveling with you?” she asked.

  Unbuckling my seat belt, I stood. “I am.”

  Okay, Mr. Sterling Sparrow, let’s see if you meant what you said.

  When Jana and I arrived at the bottom of the stairs onto the tarmac—or what was supposed to be a tarmac—Patrick was waiting. Beyond our bubble, the degrees of darkness varied. In the starlit sky, I made out tall trees and looming hills or were they mountains?

  It seemed obvious that Marianne was experienced with the remote location. It still begged the question, where in Canada were we?

  “Ma’am,” Patrick said, “I’ll take your bag. Jana, thank you. We will see you and the rest of the crew later at the cabin.”

  “She’s coming with us,” I declared.

  “Mr. Sparrow said—”

  I laid my hand on his arm and smiled. “To listen to me. I said she’s coming with us.”

  The obvious rebuttal was on his lips, yet instead of voicing it, he simply said, “Yes, ma’am.” And turned to her. “Jana, you’ll sit in the second row with Ms. Hawkins. I’ll take the third.”

  “Mr. Sparrow?” I asked, my voice raised as we walked closer to the helicopter and the roar of the spinning blades and rudders grew louder.

  “He’ll be next to the pilot,” Patrick replied louder than before.

  Of course, he would.

  That was probably where he was during the beginning of the flight, copiloting the plane. What could Mr. Sterling Sparrow not do?

  Control me was the answer that immediately brought a small smile to my nervous lips.

  If I’d thought I could speak to Sterling at any point during this transition, I’d been mistaken. Though he delivered a pointed look to Patrick about the inclusion of Jana, not another word was spoken as his granite features remained in place and we boarded the vessel.

  The only change in the plans I’d been given came with our seating assignment. Per what I assumed were Sterling’s instructions, Patrick took the copilot’s position, Jana sat in the third row and Sterling sat seat-belted beside me. Up until that moment it was his only acknowledgment of my presence.

  In his defense, it wasn’t as if I could question him or him me. Our ears were covered by large earphones connected to microphones that broadcast our conversation to everyone in the helicopter.

  Prior to liftoff, there was an ongoing discussion between the pilot, Sterling, and Patrick about longitude, latitude, and wind shear. I didn’t understand what they were saying, and as the conversation became more specific, I was certain I didn’t want to. Instead, my instinct was to turn to Jana and ask again if she was certain this was safer than the roads.

  If her answer was yes, I wanted to know where the hell we were.

  The only illumination within the helicopter came from the control panel, giving everyone an eerie green cast. As the pilot began to lift the giant machine off the ground, my circulation rushed to my feet. For the second time in a day, my stomach lurched, threatening to rebel. Quickly, I closed my eyes and fighting the seat belt, lowered my head to my lap, certain that this aircraft wasn’t equipped with a luxurious bathroom.

  One deep breath in. One deep breath out.

  I concentrated on repeating the process until a large hand came to my leg, searching for my hand tucked defensively on my lap.

  Finding it, Sterling gave my hand a gentle squeeze. “I never thought to ask.” His voice came through the earphones. “Have you ridden in a helicopter before?”

  I turned my face toward him. Even in the green cast, I saw that his expression was different than when he’d been dealing with others. There was something resembling concern or dare I say, compassion. Swallowing the acid bubbling from my stomach, I shook my head.

  “I actually prefer it to airplanes,” he said, his tone casual, like we weren’t leaving the earth in a tin can with propellers. “Once you get used to it, there’s less turbulence. And in the daylight, the view is beyond compare.”

  I turned back to the floor, my chest still against my thighs and repeated the breathing.

  Letting go of my hand, he gently stroked my hair as the helicopter rose higher and higher. With each passing minute, I calmed. He was right. Maybe it was the smaller size that gave the illusion of floating or the white noise of the whirling blades. I wasn’t sure, but finally I sat up.

  The sky was alive with stars as beautiful as in the mountains of Colorado. The moon was barely a sliver of light, its near absence part of the reason for the intense darkness.

  “Are you feeling better?” he asked.

  “I think I’ll make it without getting sick.”

  His deep chuckle came through the wireless earphones as he again reached for my hand.

  This time I reached back, allowing our fingers to intertwine. The connection was reassuring, giving me warmth throughout and calming my earlier rapid pulse as we floated through the night air.

  “How much longer?” I asked, to no one in particular.

  “About twenty minutes,” Sterling answered.

  I’d heard the pilot’s voice before we’d lifted off and I knew Patrick’s, yet none of that mattered. In the short time I’d known him, I was becoming accustomed to Sterling’s deep tenor. I would recognize it anywhere.

  “How can he tell where we’re going?” I asked.

  Again Sterling chuckled as Patrick turned my way and smiled.

  “Matt,�
�� Sterling said, presumptuously speaking to the pilot, “why don’t you distract my fiancée with the particulars of VFR? I’m certain she’ll find it fascinating.”

  As the pilot began speaking about visual flight rules, lighting conditions, and infrared sensors, all I heard was Sterling’s qualifier when identifying me.

  Fiancée.

  Before I could submit to the overwhelming rush of uncertainty and lower my head again, he squeezed my hand. When I looked his way, he ever so slightly shook his head no.

  My eyes widened, searching for understanding in this silent conversation we were now having.

  His lips moved, yet he wasn’t speaking. There was no sound besides the pilot’s voice coming through the earphones. Whatever Sterling was saying, this message was just for me.

  “Follow my lead.”

  I mouthed the words back to him, replacing my with your, and he nodded. It wasn’t simply the nod, but the way that even in the green hue, the usual darkness dimmed in his gaze as his lips curled ever slightly upward. I was beginning to realize that this change of expression was a rarity, a peek into a man who others rarely saw. I wasn’t sure why he would share it with me, but that belief that he was gave me the strength to do as he’d asked…and follow his lead.

  “…the cloud ceiling is more dangerous than darkness. Flying in dense clouds should be avoided at all costs. Darkness is simply the absence of…” the pilot continued speaking, dominating everyone else’s attention and keeping what was happening between Sterling and me private.

  I looked up again as Sterling gave my hand another squeeze.

  “We need to talk.”

  I didn’t need to repeat what his lips mouthed. He was right. We needed to talk—about so many things.

  I nodded.

  Araneae 20

  I didn’t know what to expect or even exactly where we were. With a man who had a flying mansion and apparently his choice of helicopters, what could one possibly expect when he said he was taking you to his cabin?

  At the first mention, my mind’s eye saw a one-room log-house structure, similar to Ma and Pa’s from the children’s books about growing up on a prairie. However, with the evidence I’d experienced thus far, I doubted it was that simplistic. Upon learning that not only Patrick, but Jana, Marianne, and Keaton would join us and the staff had been notified, it made sense that the cabin was bigger than one room.

  Just before the helicopter began to lower, a conversation began between Sterling and Patrick. Though I wasn’t paying attention, I became acutely aware when my earphones went silent. I glanced back at Jana with my hands over my ears. As our eyes met, she shrugged. Perhaps she was accustomed to being left out of things. I wasn’t.

  It wasn’t as if I could complain. With the sound went the ability to give audible feedback.

  The helicopter continued downward in the black sky, hovering above an open expanse of ground. In the distance on one side appeared tall trees while in the other direction was darkness that seemingly went on forever. Only the glistening of stars differentiated the earth from the sky. As the helicopter’s spotlight highlighted our destination, the area surrounding our landing pad was briefly illuminated. A yellow glow spilled from the windows of the cabin, as Sterling had called it. Though it had the rustic log exterior walls, it wasn’t a single room or even a single story. If his plane were a flying mansion, his cabin was a wooden castle.

  From the air, the building appeared to expand a great distance in each direction in what could best be described as U-shaped. The helicopter pilot set us down within and yet outside of the top of the U.

  As the blades beneath the helicopter settled upon the earth, Sterling turned my direction. With a click of a switch, I once again had sound. “Always wait for the propellers to stop completely. They’re high when they’re spinning, as when we boarded, but as they slow, they sag under their own weight.”

  It didn’t seem like advice that needed to be questioned.

  During the time it took for the blades to stop, three people I didn’t recognize came into view in the distance near the cabin.

  No longer did I need to question the time of day. When I’d redressed in the jeans and light sweater, I’d added my fitness watch that now told me that it was after midnight—at least in Chicago. I’d changed it to central time when I put it on. Now, I wasn’t certain of the time zone. Nevertheless, these people were awaiting Sterling’s arrival. I couldn’t decide if I were impressed or disgusted.

  The night air chilled through my sweater as the doors of the helicopter opened, reminding me that we weren’t in Chicago as I’d been promised. After helping me from the helicopter, Sterling held tight to my hand as we walked down the dew-covered grassy slope from the landing pad to what I’d decided, based on the outdoor furniture and fireplace, was the back of the cabin.

  I wanted to ask about our talk. I wanted to do a lot of things, but as everyone from the helicopter congregated around us, there was something about his expression that didn’t invite conversation. Whatever he wanted to discuss—and honestly, what I wanted to discuss—would be better done in private.

  “Mr. Sterling,” the spokesperson of the three-person welcoming committee said. “Welcome back.”

  “Rita, it’s late. Could you show Ms. McCrie to her room?”

  “Of course.”

  It was my first indication that my room and his weren’t the same. The knowledge came as more of a blow than I anticipated. “Sterling?” I said softly, looking back to him.

  His expression remained stoic, yet his dark stare lightened a bit. “We’ll talk later.”

  “Ms. McCrie, if you’ll follow me?” Rita said.

  There was something about being surrounded by strangers, all of whom knew him, worked for him, and were loyal to him, that stopped me from questioning further.

  Before I left the group, I turned to Jana. “Where are you staying?”

  She tilted her head to the far wing. “There are plenty of rooms down there.” She reached for my hand. “Thank you for letting me fly.”

  Sterling and Patrick had walked away, yet we had an audience. I returned her smile. “Thank you for flying with me. It wasn’t as scary as I anticipated.”

  Jana scoffed. “It was better than the drive.”

  “Ms. McCrie.”

  It took the words a moment to register.

  Oh, she meant me.

  I followed the older woman across the slate patio to the glass doors surrounded by more windows. The glass panes went all the way up to a tall peak another story high. Warm yellow light that I’d seen upon our landing flooded the interior in a warm glow. Once inside, I stood motionless for a moment, in awe of what I assumed was a living room, complete with pine wood paneling and a giant antler chandelier. Rustic chic would probably be the best way to describe the furnishings. Dark leather sofas and heavy wood tables surrounded a huge stone fireplace that like the ceiling was at least two stories high. In front of us and on the next level was a banister walkway connecting the different wings.

  “This way,” Rita said.

  “Oh, my carry-on. It’s still in the helicopter.” I’d been too overwhelmed to remember.

  “It will be brought to your room.”

  I sighed. This was not the way I was used to living. Even when traveling, I was completely content to wheel my own luggage.

  As we progressed, she pointed out the important areas like a professional tour guide. I wondered how many women Sterling had brought here. How many times had she done this same speech?

  Was I jealous?

  Of course not. Simple curiosity was all.

  “The kitchen is stocked with most things you’d want. You’re welcome to help yourself, but know we’re here to help also.”

  She went on pointing out the kitchen—a stainless steel and hard-surface beauty accented with copper, the dining area too large for one man, a library that took my breath away, complete with overstuffed chairs and lounges perfect for reading, and finally Sterling’s of
fice. We didn’t go inside as the door was shut, and Sterling and Patrick were already within. All of these destinations were located in the wing with the room where I would apparently be staying. Up the stairs we went until I was looking down on the room we’d entered. With the reflection of the interior lights, I questioned what was beyond the windows, farther than I could see in the darkness as we landed.

  “I wish I could see the view,” I said, stilling at the banister.

  “You’ll see it after the sun rises. Even after all the years of living here, it takes my breath away. From this elevation, the lake is spectacular where the mountains come together.” She resumed walking. “Legend has it that the valley was dry until early pioneers rerouted the rivers. Today the lake has a surface area of over one hundred miles.”

  “Where are we?”

  “Ontario,” she replied with a purse of her lips. “Surely you knew that?”

  I was reminded of the flight attendant on my trip from Wichita to Boulder. “I did. Sterling…Mr. Sparrow said that. I was hoping for a more specific location.”

  “We’re in northwestern Ontario. I suppose it would be easiest to say north of Minnesota.”

  I shook my head as I continued to follow her along the hallway, the walls covered with more of the knotty pine, a shade lighter than that on the floor. We passed multiple closed doors as we walked upon long rugs, red in background filled with black bears.

  Finally, she came to a stop and opened a door. The spacious bedroom was complete with a four-poster king-sized bed, one that I was pleased to see was a normal height. The decor fit the cabin, rustic with warm shades of red, gold, and brown. Windows lined one wall covered by wooden blinds.

  “There is a bathroom right over there,” she said, pointing the opposite direction of the windows. “And if you need anything, there is a phone on the bedside stand. It rings to the kitchen or our rooms. We can help you out no matter the time.”

  “Maybe some water. Other than that, I believe I’m ready to get some sleep.”

  Rita nodded. “I’ll bring you a bottle of water. In the morning let us know when you wake. We’ll bring you coffee or tea or whatever you want. You may eat in here or in the dining room. Mr. Sparrow said to let you know that you’re free to roam wherever you would like.”