My tired mind tried to make sense of the sudden change.
We weren’t landing in Ann Arbor. We were traveling away...away from Ruby.
“Patrick,” I yelled, hoping he could hear me.
Panic raced through my circulation, thumping in my ears and combining with the roar of the engines as the plane’s deceleration morphed to acceleration.
“Patrick,” I called again.
Fighting with the buckle on the seat belt as well as the centrifugal force binding me to the seat, I freed myself and pushed off of the armrests. Though the plane continued to climb higher and higher, I made it to my feet. Like swimming against the tide, I pushed toward the partition.
As I reached forward, the door slid open, and I was met with an angry blue stare.
“Did you think we wouldn’t check?” Patrick growled.
Behind him three sets of eyes stared my direction.
The plane continued its ascent as my footing slipped and Patrick reached out, seizing my wrist.
“I so fucking wanted to trust you.”
Patrick
Madeline’s beautiful green eyes opened wider as my grip of her wrist intensified. Like a vision, she’d appeared beyond the partition. No longer donned in oversized clothes, her every curve was covered by a soft sweater and black slacks showcasing her slim waist, round tits, and shapely ass. My gaze fell to where we were connected, seeing my fingers wrapped around her delicate wrist confirmed that unlike an apparition, she was real.
Damn.
With every shard of my shattered soul, I wanted to hate this woman. I longed to be unaffected by the tug-of-war that pulled tighter when we touched or the surge of energy and power that our union created. It was more than that. While physical connection increased the bond, it wasn’t required. Simply being in her presence—no, knowing she was alive—did things to me I detested. I didn’t want to feel the overwhelming sensations—covetousness love and desire.
I didn’t want it.
But I couldn’t stop it.
The feelings were there, bombarding my body and soul and radiating through me. Like the injection of a drug, my flesh burned as Madeline’s being flooded my circulation.
I detested everything about it.
I couldn’t hate her, even if I should, even if it was my desire.
Instead, I chose to hate our bond.
I chose to concentrate on the facts. That’s what I did.
That’s what had made me the man I was today. The facts were clear, crystal. Madeline had left me. She could claim it wasn’t as it seemed or as I presumed. The semantics didn’t matter; seventeen years ago when I lost her, I longed for my life to end.
Maddie had been more than my wife. We’d been together for over three years. I realized now that timeframe was hardly a lifetime, but to an eighteen-year-old, it was a fucking significant portion. She was my first love, my reason to live, work, and strive to be a better man. Madeline had been my everything—the reason I woke in the morning and came back to wherever we were living in the evening. Her sleepy morning smiles and the way she curled close under the blankets were my motivation to survive.
The night I returned to find her gone, my life as I knew it ended.
My reason to continue was gone—vanished.
“I don’t know, Patrick,” the pastor’s wife said. “She went shopping earlier today for the kitchen, for food supplies. I should have gone with her.” She reached for my arm. “You don’t think she left you, do you? It was only a couple hundred dollars. Didn’t she do this before to a foster home?”
The memory of that conversation still gnawed at my gut.
Shock.
Hurt.
Disappointment.
Disbelief.
Loss.
And now within the last few minutes, faced with new deception, those feelings were back with a vengeance.
“What are you talking about?” she asked, trying to free her wrist. “And why didn’t we land?”
Garrett, Christian, and Romero bristled in their seats, knowing the reason, knowing what we’d learned—what we’d barely escaped. With a quick look over my shoulder, I spoke to Garrett. “Confirm the fuel supply with Marianne and once the flight plan is set, let me know via text.” I didn’t need to say more. Garrett knew my new desired destination.
“Yes, sir.”
“And,” I cautioned all three men, “under no circumstances are we to be disturbed.”
Their response was swift, three quick nods combined with mumbles of affirmation.
“Patrick?” Madeline questioned, looking up at me.
Without a verbal response, I continued my hold of her wrist as I stepped toward her, staring into her eyes and pushing her backward into the aft cabin. Once we’d both crossed the threshold, I closed the partition behind us as the whine of the engines and angle of the plane reminded me that we were still climbing to cruising altitude.
“What happened?” she asked. “You can trust me. You said you wanted to. What’s stopping—”
“Seconds,” I interrupted through gritted teeth. “We were seconds from a fucking ambush.”
Her head shook. “I don’t understand. You said Andros was still in Chicago. What about Ruby?”
My jaw clenched tighter as her pulse thumped beneath my grip.
I towered over her petite form. “Did you hear me? Seconds. If we had touched down, we could all be dead. All of us, Maddie. You, me, those men. Was that your mission, to go down in a kamikaze effort to take out Sparrows?”
“What?” She stared in disbelief. “No. I wouldn’t. Ruby is my reason for living. I would never agree to leave her.”
Releasing her wrist, I stepped back. “Then what exactly was your plan? Did Ivanov promise to spare you? You said you’d do whatever he wanted, whatever he decreed was your penitence. That was what you said—your words. Would delivering four dead Sparrows to his doorstep be enough of a penitence?”
“No. I didn’t even know about Sparrows until tonight at the club. He never said...I told you there’s always some fight—some war. I never listened or questioned. It wasn’t my place. My concern is and has always been Ruby. Besides, I haven’t spoken to Andros since he left me at Club Regal. You know that. How could I?”
Inhaling, I ran the palm of my hand over my hair. My bicep bulged beneath my shirt and suit coat as I attempted to rein in my frustration. Our gazes met. “Are you listening? The airport was a trap. Minutes before we were to land, my men in Chicago hacked into the airport’s security. When they did, they saw Ivanov’s men in position. Somehow, even without the bracelet, they knew exactly where we were going.”
As the plane continued to ascend, Madeline stared into my eyes. With each passing second her expression hardened. “It doesn’t matter what I say to you, does it?” With determination in her step, she came closer.
The soft scent of flowers preceded her arrival. Her hand landed on my chest. It took all my willpower to remain in place and not back away as the warmth of her touch transcended the fabric.
“Tell me, Patrick, will you ever forgive me? I’ve stupidly been sitting here...” She motioned to the seats. “...with visions of fairy tales that up until today I never allowed myself to imagine. But that’s all they are, right? Stories. Make-believe. There’s no happy-ever-after for us. You won’t allow that.”