The door yanked open. His presence shrank the bathroom. “Time’s up.”
I forced myself to keep my eyes trained down as he walked me across the tarmac. I heard men talking and the sound of equipment, but no one acknowledged our presence. He led me to a steel ramp, and I realized we were entering the back end of a massive cargo plane. He moved us past multiple high metal containers. At the front of the cargo area, along the side of the plane walls, there was a row of uncomfortable-looking drop seats with massive shoulder-strap seat belts.
“Sit,” he commanded.
I gingerly sat down and tried to sort out the seat belt, but I couldn’t seem to make sense of the tangled straps.
He knelt in front of me and knocked my hands out of the way so he could securely strap me in. He put the handcuffs on my wrists, attached me to the seat, and then placed the neatly folded blanket on top of my hands.
“I’m not going to run away.” I whispered my complaint.
He lifted his eyes to me. “This is so no one can take you.”
Wow. My lips parted, but no words came out.
“I need to go take care of some stuff.”
What if someone takes me? “You’re leaving me here?”
“I’ll be back.”
“Maybe I should come with you.”
He stood up. “Don’t talk to anyone, don’t look at anyone.”
It confused me that the man who had taken control of my life against my will was now someone I was reluctant to let out of my sight. “How long will you be gone?”
He lifted his finger to his lips and motioned for me to be quiet.
Clutching the blanket, I lowered my chin to my chest. I felt curiously bereft when his big army boots disappeared out of sight.
I listened hard. I could hear male voices laughing outside of the plane, but I couldn’t make out their words. I grew nervous when I heard the clatter of footsteps on metal coming toward me. As they got louder, I yanked on the handcuffs that tied me to the chair. I don’t know why I bothered. My only other defense was to play possum. I shrank further into my seat and feigned sleep.
The footsteps grew even more pronounced before coming to a complete stop in front of me. From between the cracks of my closed lids, I could make out a pair of unfamiliar military-looking boots.
“Well, hello. Where did you come from?” the voice asked me.
I tried desperately to fake sleep, but my entire body shook in fear. Where was my Russian monster? Why had he left me here, defenseless and chained to my seat?
The voice came closer. “I know you’re not asleep. Don’t be frightened.”
A sound escaped me when I felt his fingertips trace down my cheek.
Without my permission, my eyes opened, and the man’s face came into view. He was in his thirties, and he had a crew cut and a wide smile. “Hi there. What’s your name?”
A dark shadow appeared behind him and then the sound of a gun cocking echoed around us. My eyes widened as the stranger slowly put his hands above his head. “Take it easy.”
Viktor stood behind him and kept the gun trained on the back of his skull. “Don’t speak to her.”
“I was just being friendly.”
“This is me being friendly. Move.”
The guy bolted around the metal shipping container and disappeared. I swallowed as my monster’s cold gaze dropped on me.
“I thought I told you to stay out of trouble.”
CHAPTER FIVE
VIKTOR
Blaire stuttered. “He talked to me.”
I had watched the entire situation unfold as I approached. She had done everything I had asked her. She’d feigned sleep as the man stopped in front of her, spoke to her, got close to her, reached out and touched her. My fists curled at the thought of her being alone with him. I needed to keep a better eye on her.
“You don’t leave my sight,” I reminded her.
“You left my sight,” she argued, but I could tell she was scared. She was still shaking.
I holstered my gun and took off her handcuffs.
She avoided my gaze and rubbed her wrists.
“We good?”
She lifted her face, and, surprisingly, her eyes flashed with anger. “You put me in danger.”
The truth pricked me like a needle. “You’re still breathing.”
I watched as she fought her emotions. “You left me chained up and defenseless.”
“I think you’d be pretty defenseless even without the handcuffs.”
Her nostrils flared. “That’s your argument?”
I moved away from her, from her accusation, and pretended to organize my bag while watching her from my peripheral. I didn’t know how to navigate this situation. Hostages from my previous life had all been brutal men who thrived on mass destruction and terror. I had never bothered talking to any of them—my job had simply been to bring them to justice. I still had the skills to keep someone captive, but I didn’t know how to do it in a civilized manner. I dug into my bag and pulled out a bottle of water and an energy bar.
I handed them to her, along with four words. “It won’t happen again.”
She looked up at me with big green eyes. She didn’t speak or take what I offered. I considered myself an excellent judge of character, but I couldn’t seem to figure this woman out. She acted like no other woman I knew. She looked as delicate as a flower, but she seemed to be as sturdy as an indestructible weed. She had the most atypical reaction to her situation. Only a couple of times tonight had she been reduced to tears. For the most part, she had shown extraordinary grit and resilience.
I set the items down on the seat beside her before stowing my bag. The red lights started to flash, and three long beeps sounded.
“We’re about to leave,” I told her.
She watched as I strapped in a few seats away from her. One by one, the engines began, creating a dull roar in the cavernous space.
Graciously, she accepted my paltry olive branch by picking up the water and taking a long drink. Her voice sounded like an exhale. “How long is the flight to Singapore?”
That reminded me of our detour. “We’re landing in Vietnam.”
Our eyes met, and I could see fear in her reflecting gaze. But her voice remained calm.
“What happens once we land there?”
“I have connections in Vietnam to get us some paperwork.”
“What kind of paperwork?”
I didn’t answer.
She chose her words carefully. “Things will be easier for me if you stop being so secretive.”
I had no logical reason for withholding the information from her. She’d find out soon enough why we were there. “It’s harder to move around, get hotels, get phones when we don’t have any ID. I know a guy in Ho Chi Minh City who can hook us up.”
“You’re buying us fake passports?”
“You have a better idea?”
She sat back and picked up the energy bar. “No. That’s a great idea.”
I moved restlessly around, tired of flying. For the duration of the flight, my little guest had been passed out in the hammock I had set up for her. When she slept, she slept hard.
I spent most of the time sitting on the hard floor, leaning back against my pack. After our incident with one of the crew, no one bothered us, but I didn’t go looking for interactions either.