Dom reaches for his glass of bourbon. “He had a problem and I solved it, no big deal.”
“Sounds like it was a very big deal, Dom. What did you do?”
“His grandson has cancer. I pushed to get him into a trial he otherwise wouldn’t have been accepted into.” Dom lowers his glass onto the shiny table and spins it around. “That kid shouldn’t have to die just because he doesn’t have resources.”
I stretch across the surface to latch onto his hand with mine. “That was very kind of you, Dom.”
His gaze trails up and a smirk forms on his handsome face. “Don’t get any ideas, I am not a nice guy.” He rakes his other hand through his beard and leans back, still holding my hand.
“Why do you pretend you’re not?”
“I’m not pretending. Sometimes I do good deeds, but that doesn’t change who I am, June. You might get to see a side of me that no one else does, but don’t for a second equate that to me being kind, or noble, orgood. I am a bad man. I always have been, and I always will be.”
Why is he trying so hard to convince me that he has no redeeming qualities?
This theory of good and bad is strictly that—a theory. No single person is inherently one or the other. Doing good things doesn’t make you a good person, and doing bad things doesn’t make you bad. I’ve done my fair share of both, and I lean much more toward the darker side of things, but I doubt any of the few people in my life would say I’mbad. That’s all that really matters—how those closest to you view you and the things you’ve done. If people can choose to love you knowing all the terrible acts you’ve committed, how could a person truly be evil? Or maybe the evil is just that alluring and makes them blind to the depravity.
Engine sounds fill the cabin and a second later, we slowly move from our spot.
“We’ll be wheels up shortly,” Frances says on his walk by us.
Dom reaches into his pocket to pull out a buzzing phone. “Shit, I’ve got to take this.” He gives my hand a gentle squeeze. “I’ll be right back.”
Isn’t he supposed to put that thing into airplane mode? Isn’t that why the damn button is there? Because we’re on anairplane.
“Adler,” he answers the call. He moves to the back of the plane where I can no longer make out the words he says into the receiver.
My heart thumps harder, and I grip the seat, no longer lulled by the presence of my strong man. Instead, I'm left to consider the endless list of things that could go wrong. I never should have watchedFinal Destinationa month ago with Magnus. The image of the side of the plane bursting open and my body being sucked out and mutilated by the rotating blade thingys fills my head. Are those the engines? What happens if we hit a bird? Or a fucking goose?
I’m moved back into my seat as the plane picks up speed. I close my eyes, my fingers digging into the expensive leather seat. At least, I think it’s leather. I’m not really familiar with upholstery. It kind of looks like leather, but it’s much softer and plush than one would assume leather to be.
That’s it,focus on fucking seat upholstery to distract yourself from the ridiculous idea of death by a plane crash.I've been tied to a chair and tortured by a man I didn’t know the identity of, and yetthisis somehow more terrifying.
A warm hand grips mine and peels my hand from the seat. Dom throws his arm around my shoulder and tugs me into his chest.
“I didn’t know you were afraid of flying,” he says softly.
“Me either.” I lean into his body and remind myself that if Dom truly thought I was in danger, he never would have brought me here. Because after all, that’s what he claims is his biggest concern—my safety.
“I’ve got you, there’s nothing to be afraid of.” He kisses the top of my head and his beard prickles me.
I breathe in his musky scent and savor the warmth of his embrace. Dom isn’t often very soft, but lately, he’s held me more than I expected, and I am so fucking grateful for it.
Things have been rough, with all the secrets, but it’s moments like this that make me hopeful that we might actually make it through this.
The plane finds a horizontal space in the sky, and I breathe a sigh of relief at having made it through one aspect of this flight. Now I have to manage the in-air time, and the landing. I swallow down the reminder that we’ll have to do this on the way back, too.
I peel myself from Dom’s chest and tuck my hair behind my ear.
“Have you never flown before?” Dom keeps his hand on my back.
I shake my head. “No.”
“Oh, June. I…I’m sorry.” He skims my cheek with his palm. “I shouldn’t have taken that call.”
“It’s fine,” I tell him. How was he supposed to know I’d be a big baby about flying? I didn’t even know until we were going a billion miles per hour on a runway and lurching ourselves into the sky. My stomach twists at how impossible it is that we’re up here in the first place. “I’m fine.”
Dom leans forward and latches onto the glass nearest me. “Here, drink this.” He pushes it into my grasp. “But don’t have much more. The altitude will make you feel drunker than you really are. This should be enough to calm your nerves.”