How could he tell them that their attempts were doomed for failure? He would have to open a tiny fraction of his barricade, and that wasn’t going to happen. They didn’t need the shit festering in his head spilling over into the way the brothers treated him. He would rather have them think he was a basket case than see the pity in their gazes.
As he approached the plane and the man waiting by the steps, he saw Kaden Cross’s eyes flicker over him, taking in the new arrival who would be joining his entourage. Cross’s expression didn’t change seeing the haircut or The Last Riders’ jacket, and his once-over didn’t stop until he had taken in every detail of Reaper’s appearance before meeting his eyes.
“You must be Reaper.”
Gavin gave the lead singer of Mouth2Mouth a curt nod, not taking the man’s extended hand. “Yes.”
Unfazed at having his greeting ignored, Cross motioned for him to go up the steps. “If you’re ready, we’ll take off. You’re the last to arrive. Nickel is already on board.”
“I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.” Reaper forced his leaden legs toward the small stairs, moving slightly aside instead of going up. “You first.” Reaper drew his narrowed gaze away from Cross, taking in the surrounding tarmac and the trees bordering the small airstrip, while keeping the other man in his peripheral vision.
“You can store your bag in one of the overhead compartments,” Cross said laconically as he went past him.
Reaper climbed the short flight of steps, steeling himself to board the plane. He was even able to control a flinch as the door closed and locked.
He surveyed the few empty seats that were unoccupied. Ignoring Nickel’s motion for him to sit next to him, Reaper walked past him and the curious members of the band who openly watched as he made his way past them. Unlatching the overhead bin, he shoved his duffel bag inside before taking off his jacket. Already feeling himself wanting to rip the door open and get his ass off the plane, the emotions of being trapped had his heart doing palpitations. Sitting down in an empty seat near the rear, he buckled the seatbelt before he worked himself into a full-fledged panic attack. Concentrating on his breathing, he imagined himself swimming in the cool depths of the ocean, where he always felt more at home than on land. Finally, he was able to dampen his racing heart.
Gaining control just as he heard the engine start, he focused his attention from the window to the other passengers on board, instead of watching the wheels leave the pavement of the landing strip.
Recognizing the band members next to him who were staring curiously at him, Gavin moved his gaze away from D-Mon to the woman who was sitting in front of the bass player. Ginny was the only one who hadn’t spared him a glance as she stared out the window. He could tell she didn’t want to be on the plane any more than he did. From her bleak-looking profile, he didn’t think it was for the same reason. The singer didn’t want to leave Kentucky and her friends behind.
Viper told him the only reason she left Kentucky in the first place was because the home that she worked so hard to buy from Willa had burned down. Now that she earned enough money to buy herself a new one in the town she loved, Shade said the fear of drawing the stalker to Treepoint kept her from returning permanently. She was also refusing to go back to Queen City for the same reason.
Gavin clutched the armrests as the luxurious airplane started inching forward, biting back his shout to let him off the metal prison, and closing his eyes as the engine grew louder. His head fell back on the headrest as he felt the plane silky glide into the air and the engine turned into an almost silent purr.
Unable to prevent himself, he stared out into the blue horizon as the plane flew higher, cursing Rider and Shade inwardly at forcing him into accepting the job. The rational part of his brain said he didn’t blame them, believing the stalker was trying to find another way through their protection by turning their focus on their own women instead of Ginny, while the other part of his brain didn’t give a fuck. He just wanted his ass to be on the ground.
A soft touch on his hand had his attention returning from staring blankly ahead, where he was mentally beating the fuck out of both men.
“Are you okay?”
Her soft query had him snatching his hand out from under hers.
“You shouldn’t have gotten out of your seat while the plane is climbing,” he snapped.
She tilted her head to the side. “That was twenty minutes ago.”
He jerked his head back to the window, seeing the billowing clouds below.
“Time passes when you’re having fun, doesn’t it?” she quipped.
“I don’t consider this fun.”
“I take it you don’t enjoy flying?”
Turning from the window, he glared at her. “I don’t enjoy being locked up, whether I’m in the sky or on the ground.”
For a split second, Reaper regretted being rude to Ginny when her skin paled and her lips trembled as if she didn’t know what to say next. The instinctual drive to keep everyone the fuck away from him had him reacting strongly toward her, even enabling her to sit down next to him without him noticing.
“I’m sorry, then, that I’m the reason you’re here.”
Fuck. Fuck. The hurt tone in her voice sliced through him like quicksilver. I’m not going to talk to her, Reaper told himself, trying to rebuff further conversation, hoping she would give up and return to her seat.
“It’s the last place you want to be, isn’t it?”
“I wouldn’t say that.” Damn, his resolve hadn’t lasted three seconds.
The knowledge he had fucked up came when she relaxed back against the seat. Another streak of quicksilver shot through him, this time in a different area of his body, when a hint of her perfume filled his nostrils. Taylor had worn sweet, flowery scents, which he had considered a contraction of her personality. Ginny’s was fresh and clean, as if she had just stepped out of a shower.
The image of Ginny being in the shower naked slammed the brakes on the comparison of the two women.
“Would it help if I called and asked Viper to send someone else when we land?”
“No,” he muttered, relieved he was able to get the word out. At least he was getting better at forming words when she was near.
Congratulating himself, he tried to pretend she wasn’t there and gave rebuffing her a new go-around.
“Then you’re stuck with me.”
Was that a tinge of satisfaction he heard in her voice?
Despite his aloofness, the woman wasn’t exhibiting any irritation or any sympathy that he didn’t want to be on the plane. Ginny was unlike any woman he had ever met. She didn’t shy away from him when he was making it plain he wanted to be left alone. There wasn’t anything flirtatious in her attitude, either; she was being open and friendly without resorting to any feminine tactics to ease the discomfort of the situation. She wasn’t pretending to be something she wasn’t just to get him to be nicer to her. He was beginning to understand why she had earned the respect of The Last Riders.
“For now.” The new go-around had lasted one second longer than the last one had.
“For now?”
“Until I find the person who’s been stalking you.” Which better be sooner rather than later if she was determined to talk him to death.