Page 29 of Unlocking Ruin

“Then let go,” he taunts. His muscles flex under my touch.

“You’re a fucking asshole!”

He snorts lightly.

“Where are the life jackets?” I demand. My eyes dart around the metal tube hurtling through the sky. No cramped seats, narrow aisles, or overhead luggage storage. “Are there air masks here? Is this thing even up to code?”

“Yes,” he replies as he unbuckles my legs. He moves, reaches for the belt, allowing his knuckles to glide over my hips, before he fastens it back around me.

“These are the type of planes that always go down first,” I say, clutching my neck as if it can soothe my knotted stomach. “I can feel the acid bubbling in my throat. Can you please get me one of those paper bags? I’d hate to vomit on your fancy carpet. A man like you would likely stiff me with the cleaning bill.”

He doesn’t flinch. Instead, he comes an inch closer. The warmth of his shadow covers me like an unwanted blanket. “I’m beginning to take offense at these statements, Rylan.”

“Bravo, genius. That’s the point!” I clap with exaggerated flair, each smack stinging in the dry cabin air, but I keep going to get under his skin. “What’s with the look? I thought you preferred applause to my screaming.”

His eyes shine with a dark, destructive gleam. “Would you like a glass of champagne to wash down the sour attitude?”

“Insufferable.”

“I prefer polite, helpful, considerate.” He tilts his head as his smile reaches ear to ear.

I roll my eyes and start inspecting the seatbelt. “These little rinky-dink jets are always the ones that go down,” I mumble as I tug on the seatbelt, testing its durability.

“Did you just call my sixty-five million dollar state-of-the-art private jet a little rinky-dink?”

I narrow my eyes into my most hostile stare. “I’ve seen Legos that look more durable. You should ask for a refund.”

“Now you’re just being ridiculous.”

He shakes his head, and something in his disapproval coats my tongue with a sour tang. It strikes me harder than it should. I don’t like it. I want his approval, and I don’t know why.

“You’re not the type of woman who lets fear win. You find a back door, hack inside, and dismantle it. Do it right now so you can think clearly, and we can have a conversation,” he demands.

“You don’t know anything about me,” I seethe through clenched teeth.

“I know that you put up with your stepfather and mother for years, letting your fear win until one day you decided to end it. I know that after that day arrived, you have been successful.”

“Successful? You caught me.”

“That doesn’t mean you failed. Me catching you was always a guarantee.”

“Then what was I successful at?”

His voice dips lower. “Surviving alone.”

His eyes shift into a lighter shade of blue, like a monster swallowing its kill.

Alone. Why do I get the feeling I’ll never have that again?

I avert his stare by dropping mine. I pull the seatbelt so tight that I cut off the blood supply to my lower extremities.

“That’s a bit much, even for you. But don’t worry, if you bruise yourself, I’ll tend to it,” he claims as his eyes trace my waistline.

“When do we land?”

“Don’t you want to know where we’re going?”

His question comes like a gentle breeze rather than a gale-force wind trying to topple me with its unmatched power.