I furrow my brows as I glance back to her. We aren’t going anywhere. I’ll only be able to stand Siren until this plane ride is over, and then I’ll need her to head back to Zeke.
“Home.”
Siren blinks rapidly, trying to digest my single word in disbelief. She sits up and slowly lifts Cayden off her lap, placing him on the couch across from us. Once he’s solidly asleep again, she folds her arms and stares down at me like she’s about to give me an order.
“New York? You can’t go back there.”
“Why not? It’s my home. It’s where I want to be.” I stand up, wanting to be on the same eye level as her. I won’t let her, or anyone else, bully me into feeling weak.
“That will be the first place Langston looks!”
I glance at Cayden as Siren raises her voice, but he sleeps right through it. I guess when you grow up in our world, you can sleep through anything.
“I’m not going to run anymore. I’m not going to play his games.”
“Just hide out, take a vacation somewhere until I can talk some sense into that boy.”
“No. I have Waylon to worry about. I have a job. A life. I’m not going to let Langston take anything more from me.”
Siren’s eyes flick side to side as she looks into my eyes, hoping to find something in my eyes to persuade me. She won’t find anything. My decision is already made.
She lets out a long breath, blowing some of her hair out of her eyes.
“I’ll tell the pilot we are headed for New York, and then you and I are going to talk.”
She heads toward the front of the plane, while I take a seat again, feeling victorious, even though I know she’s not going to let this go that easily. I close my eyes. Maybe if I pretend to sleep, Siren will ignore me.
“Nuh-uh. That’s not going to work. You’re not asleep. Start talking,” Siren says as she plops back into her chair.
My eyes flick open. “I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“It’s a long story.”
“We’ve got time.”
I close my eyes again. “Sorry, Siren. I don’t want to lie to you, and that’s all I’ll do if I start talking. You’re better off not knowing.”
I texted Waylon to meet me at my apartment, but I never got a response. I don’t know if he’ll be here or not. I don’t know if he called the police and filed a missing person report. I don’t know if he’s given up on me coming back.
I get to my apartment door and realize I don’t have my key. I knock, hoping Waylon is inside, so I don’t have to break into my own apartment.
I hear footsteps inside, and I fidget with the hem of my black T-shirt. Will Waylon notice that I’m not wearing my usual power dress? Will he know that something’s instantly wrong? Will he ask me a dozen questions about where I’ve been or what I’ve been up to?
What do I tell him? How do I keep him safe?
The door swings open—th
e moment of reckoning.
“Baby, I didn’t think you were getting back from your trip for a while. I’m so happy you decided to change your plans and head home early.” He grabs me by the back of my neck and kisses me in a friendly kiss. His tongue parts my lips, his hand massages my neck, and he moans softly against my lips. It’s a good kiss—a grateful kiss, but not an ‘I was worried you were kidnapped, murdered, or dropped off the face of the earth’ kiss.
“Yep, I missed you. Thought I’d come back early.”
Waylon pulls me tightly to him, until I’m pressed up against him. That’s when I get a whiff of him—a musky, sweaty scent. I scan him up and down and realize he’s in a T-shirt and gym shorts. He must have just worked out.
“We are going to have to celebrate later, though. How about Noda for dinner in three hours? I need to shower, and then I have a quick meeting. After that, I’m all yours.” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.