Jason
Willa was in a daze the entire way back to the airport. By the time she was on the plane, she was out cold in my arms.
Good. She’s been through enough.
“Is she all right?” April’s voice was soft as I came out of the bedroom where I’d put Willa.
April and I had barely said a word to one another since the fight—just enough communication to get our things packed and the three of us on our way.
“She’s fine,” I said. “Happens when adrenaline hits—you’re keyed up and ready to take on anything, then you crash. Hopefully she’s out for the duration.”
April nodded, her eyes fixed anywhere but me as she sat down and buckled up. I took my place next to her and did the same, the engines of the jet spooling up as the plane turned down the runway.
We needed to talk, not a damn doubt about it. I’d hoped the conversation could be put off until…well, I didn’t know when.
But I hadn’t been counting on her and Willa being set upon by some London thugs. Something like that has a way of raising questions.
When the chime went off, April undid her seatbelt and wordlessly rose, making her way over to the coffee bar.
“Something for you?”
I laughed at the idea of her making me something to drink like nothing was going on.
“Yeah. I’ll take an espresso.”
Might as well.
April made the drinks and brought them over. I took a sip of mine, stalling for one last moment before I knew it was time to let it all out.
“How are you?” I asked.
She flicked those green eyes of hers onto me. “Well, I almost got kidnapped. And then I watched my boss beat the shit out of three people at the same time like it was nothing. And now I’m back on another international flight. So, considering, I think I’m all right.”
“I want to apologize. You shouldn’t have had to go through that.”
She shook her head. “Don’t worry about me—worry about your daughter.”
“Believe me, I am. I’m still…processing the fact that she had to go through that.”
April shook her head. “Where…where did you learn to fight like that? That was probably seven-hundred pounds of dude you brought down in less than a minute.”
“My old man. He did some boxing when he was younger, in the navy. Told me and Scott that the difference between real men and pretenders was whether or not you could fight. Had the two of us in boxing when we were ten, mixed martial arts before I could drive a car. His way of showing that he cared.”
April chewed her lip, processing what I was saying.
“Your dad…” She glanced away, as if trying to find the words to say.
Dad seemed like as good a place to start as any.
“My dad. He started this company. And it’s no normal company.”
“What kind of company is it, then?”
“A…criminal company—a criminal organization.”
To my surprise, April didn’t appear shocked. Instead, she shook her head. Had she put this together on her own? Or was she just this good at handling surprising news?
“You mean, like the mafia?’