Page 71 of Last Destination

My father’s eyebrow raised in question. “On another ship?”

Icy panic trickled through my bloodstream, but I gritted my teeth hard enough to let it pass. I couldn’t wait two weeks to see them. “No, a plane.”

I’d load up on Valium and put myself into a mini-coma if that’s what it took. I had no idea what the fuck I’d do with ecotourism of all things, but I was willing to try. I loved animals. Surely, they could give me something to do.

My watch flashed on my wrist from the midday sun streaming through the window. The $40,000 monstrosity indicated a status I no longer needed or wanted. I unclasped it and set it on the desk between me and my father. The aggressive thunk audibly signaled the end of an era, freed from the literal golden handcuff.

I stood and held out a hand to my father. He rose and pulled me into his arms instead. Public displays of affection were strictly against a cardinal rule for Appa, but he’d broken it several times since I’d come home — maybe this wasn’t just the start of a new me, but a new us.

“Salanghaeyo, Appa.” I love you, father.

“Salanghaeyo, Aduel.” I love you, son.

I left the high-rise with a new pep in my step, my purpose in this miserable fucking life finally defined.

Her. Him. Them. And apparently, an ecotourism resort.

I had a plane to catch.

“You think you’d be able to fly it?”

Nikki’s grin held an interesting mix of exuberance and caution. The white and blue striped prop plane, floating innocently on matching pontoons off the dock of our neighbor’s property, had a cardboard “For Sale” sign taped to its cargo door.

The plane was in excellent shape, likely only used for a few pleasure trips, given the wealth the Watsons exuded every time we ran into them, with their expensive clothes and massive seaside mansion.

We stood on the white sand beach, the same one where Madman and I had made our confessions with our bodies. Our “cottage” lay a ten-minute walk down the sand in the opposite direction. A striking frigate bird flew overhead, its gleaming black feathers and vibrant red throat pouch flashing like a graceful kite against the pale blue sky. A small boulder settled in my stomach at its beauty. Ambrose would love the wildlife here.

“I think so.” I smiled hesitantly, linking my arm through his while I wistfully imagined what flying would feel like again: the yoke beneath my fingers, the acceleration and exhilaration of takeoff, the kiss of the clouds when I leveled off at the top of the sky.

My memories of our crash hadn’t returned, and I’d come to peace with that fact. I’d spent much of my life repressing my worst memories. It was a gift to not have to relive this one, too.

Which meant maybe, just maybe, I could fly again.

Apparently, our resident ex-convict had read business books in prison and was working on a business plan to take to the bank. Nikki would be the face of the operation. He had the charm and the trust fund — reestablished thanks to his sister — to convince a bank we had what it took to revive the old property.

I didn’t know where exactly I fit in this scenario, but the idea of doing small tours by plane could be the right fit. A place where I could contribute — where I could rediscover my joy in flying.

“I’m proud of you, baby girl. You’re so fucking brave.” Nikki kissed the top of my head and squeezed my fingers. The scent of spicy amber and bright citrus from his new favorite soap washed over me and I nuzzled into his neck to get a better whiff. The two of us stood so close together on the beach sand we were one silhouette.

He shifted his arms around me and wrapped me in a tight hold, burying his face in my hair, pressing every part of my body against his. Intimate, but soft, sensual but sweet.

It was the first time we were alone. Madman had left for the day, his determination to make this resort idea a reality pushing him to do more research.

Butterflies fluttered in my stomach; for the first time in a long time, from possibility instead of preservation. Nikki’s hand moved from around my waist to stroking up my side, his fingers trailing up the cotton tank top and tracing my ribs, raising tingles.

A swelling outline pressed against my belly and I shifted to press into it more, eliciting a soft groan from deep in Nikki’s throat. Shivers swept up my spine at the charge of energy that crackled between us; from sweet to sinful in a mere second.

“Baby girl …” His words caught in his throat as I shoved up on my tiptoes to reach his eager mouth, and kissed him hard.

His soft lips didn’t hesitate to give it right back to me. His hands fell from my ribs and waist. Then he was cupping my cheeks to hold me in place, tracing my mouth with his tongue with the same urgency. My skin flushed with sweat, but not from the heat of the sun.

This man had been through hell with me and hell with himself, yet here we stood, side by side, ready to reinvent our life. Together. It was time to show him what that meant to me.

I nipped his lips and pulled back, finding his eyes, which glowed with the iridescent resonance of potent, unrestrained lust. “I love you, Nik. So much it hurts.”

His teeth flashed brilliant white, his smile more blinding than I’d ever seen it. “I’ve always loved you, baby girl. I never thought I could have you because you are way above me in every station, but if you let me love you, I promise you I’ll take care of you for the rest of my very long life.”

The declaration made my heart sing, for the sentiment and the longevity behind it. Nikki would continue to have his struggles — managing addiction was a lifelong commitment — but he was determined to work through them. To live.