ESCAPE: A Stepbrother Romance (These Wicked Games Book 2) (8 page)

But, this has failed to come to fruition by the time Cade hangs up.

“Let’s get to Hertz.”

“So, we’re driving there after all.”

He stares at me. “No.” He takes my hand. “Come on.”

While we wait in line at Hertz, Cade tells me, “Keep your eyes open.”

“For what?”

He shakes his head, looking around the airport. “Anything.”

“I don’t get it.”

“I don’t trust him.” He glances down at me. “Who I had to call for approval. I wouldn’t be surprised if we had to deal with the paparazzi.” He scans the area again. “Or worse.”

“Worse?”

“Just keep your guard up.”

“It’s up.”

He focuses his attention on me. “I’m sorry, little bird, this will be over soon.”

I touch his hand.

“Next!”

“Jesus,” I say, putting my hand to my heart.

“Next!” the woman repeats.

“Some Gold Member service,” Cade says, and we walk up to the counter.

“So where are we going?” I ask Cade in the parking lot as we get into our new rental car—a Chevy something, which is surprising, but he said we weren’t going far.

“The other side of the airport.”

I laugh. “Seriously.”

He starts the car, then glances at me. “What?”

“Are you joking?”

We back out.

“About what?”

“Where we’re going.”

He puts the car in drive, then looks at me. “No. Why would I be? We have a jet to catch. It’s like a mile. We can walk, if you want.”

“No no, that’s fine. Just curious. Please, proceed.”

He does.

When we go past a gate with a guard to a protected area, I ask, “Are we really going to be able to fly? I thought LAX banned me.”

“But not me. They won’t know about you.”

“How?”

“I had Lovelace charter a jet.

“You had your company charter a jet just for the two of us?” I laugh with disbelief. “Wow. This is crazy. I can’t believe you just chartered a jet. How much did that cost?”

“The truth?”

“Duh.”

“You can’t handle the truth.”

I punch his arm, then scoot over in my seat and lean on him. “I’m so happy right now.”

He reaches across himself with his left hand, and pets my head.

The jet is waiting for us on the concourse. It sounds like it’s already started.

“How did they get something so quick?”

Cade grabs his bag from the backseat. “I paid extra.”

There’s what looks like a pilot waiting for us at the top of the stairs. He waves.

“How soon can we be in the air?” Cade shouts as we ascend the steps.

“As soon as you’re both aboard.”

Cade makes an okay symbol, and the pilot backs away so we can get inside.

“Make yourself comfortable,” the pilot says. “I’m Major Williams. Call me Tom.”

“Thanks,” Cade says. “Are you pilot or copilot?”

“Both.”

Cade had been about to sit, but he pauses. “Just you? Where’s the copilot?”

Williams retracts the stairs, which are also the door, then turns to face us. “Well, we could wait for one.” He looks at his watch, a huge, silver and black thing. “It will be another five hours or so.”

“Shit.” Cade punches the seat.

“Hey, I won’t tell if you won’t.”

Cade glances at me. To the pilot, he asks, “Is that safe?”

“Son, I’ve been flying for twenty years.”

“For the air force?” I ask. “Major?”

He laughs. “Something like that. More of a nickname now.” He shakes his head. “Did I introduce myself as Major? Bad habit.”

“It’s cute,” I say.

“Well coming from a sweetie like you I’ll take that as a complement.”

I blush despite myself.

The pilot puts his hands up to Cade. “Don’t worry, I know she’s your sister.” He laughs and drops his hands. “So, what say you? Fly now, or fly later?”

Cade looks at me again. “If you’re sure it’s safe.”

“Perfectly.” He barks a laugh. “If anything goes wrong, there’s always the quick way down.”

“The quick way?” I ask.

“Parachuting!”

“That’s not comforting.”

He laughs again. “No worries little girl, I’ll take care of you both.”

He turns and heads toward the front of the plane. Then he stops and turns back. “Oh, if you need anything, you can use the phone to call me. Or just give a knock on the door.” He focuses on me. “Ever been in a cockpit?”

I blush deeper for some reason. I shake my head.

“Well, if you want to see what it’s like,” he glances at his watch again, “give a knock in about fifteen minutes.”

I nod. “Thanks.”

He smiles, and is gone.

“I don’t like him,” Cade says when the cockpit door is shut.

“Why?”

“Lady and gentleman, we’re cleared for takeoff. Please take your seats and fasten your seat belts. At your leisure, of course.”

The fasten seatbelt light blinks on.

“They have those here,” I muse, staring up at the sign.

Cade pushes me down into the seat, then slides in next to me. “Did you see the way he was looking at you? And that whole brother—” He grinds his teeth together.

“Hey.” I touch his arm. “I’m not going anywhere.” I nudge him. “It was the cockpit, wasn’t it? You don’t want me going in the cockpit?”

He frowns. “Why would I care if you went in the cockpit? If you’ve never seen it, go for it.”

“So, you don’t mind me going into the cock… pit?”

He groans. “You’re dirty.”

I bite my lip. “Want to find out just how?” I grab my sweatshirt and slowly lift.

Cade grabs my hand hard. “Don’t.” He looks at the cockpit door.

“Calm down, Cade.”

“Look, Mags, can we just— Let’s just slow down.”

“Me!?” I cry. “Who’s the one who keeps turning inferno hot then ice cold?”

“I’m sorry, it’s just…”

“What? Goddammit, what?”

He sighs. “Weird.”

My heart sinks. It takes a moment to notice it’s because the plane has started moving. I blink several times, trying to decide whether it’s the plane or my own emotions that triggered the dread. “How… What is?”

“Us. You’re my— Our parents are married.”

“So? We’re not related. I mean, Jesus, Cade, we didn’t even meet until I was ten. It was another year and a half before we got to know each other.”

“It’s not just that.”

“What then?”

He goes silent.

“Fine. Just don’t tell me anything.” I throw myself back into my seat. Which hurts, but which I don’t let show. Then the plane accelerates. I whimper.

Cade, perhaps misinterpreting this, touches my leg. “All right. Do you really want to know?”

My fingers dig into the arm rests.

“Mags?”

“Wait,” I squeak. “Don’t. Like. Takeoff.”

He laughs a deep laugh. “Are you kidding?”

I shake my head rapidly.

“Here, take my hand.”

The nose of the plane lifts up.

“Ah!”

“Take it.”

I look down, and grab his hand, then look forward quickly. This doesn’t really do any good, since it’s not like I can see through the closed cockpit door and out the windshield, but somehow makes me feel a little better. Like I’m in the driver’s seat of a car. A really fast, really scary, really free-willed car that doesn’t slow down when I command it to.

“Just squeeze.”

“I am.”

“You can do better than that. Come on, harder, little girl.”

“I’m not a little girl!” I cry. Exactly like I used to when I
was
a little girl.

“Good. Harder.”

“My hand’s going to break if I squeeze harder.”

“Don’t be such a pussy.”

I turn to him, my mouth open. “What did you call me?”

“A pussy,” he says simply. He squeezes my hand. “Now come on, squeeze, bitch.”

My mouth drops open. “What?!”

I can see the smile he’s trying to repress, like he’s in on some big cosmic joke.

I begin to say something else, when there’s a dinging.

“Okay boys and girls. Or, boy and girl. You’re free to move around now. There’s drinks in the galley, and a not-half-bad selection of food, if I say so myself. Enjoy. And if anyone wants to check the cockpit, now’s your chance.”

I look at Cade. He’s smiling. “See. Aren’t you glad you squeezed my hand?”

“Asshole.”

After a brief look around the cockpit—I really couldn’t resist… what girl could?—Cade makes me a gin and tonic.

“That’s not very appropriate, Mr Dorn,” I say as I take the glass from him and sniff it, getting bubbles in my nose. I wrinkle it.

“God you’re so cute. As for appropriate, you’re gonna need something to calm you down for the landing.”

“We only just took off.”

“It’s less than an hour flight.”

“Flown it much?” I take a sip. It’s actually good. I take another.

“Whoa there.” He goes back to the kitchen area. “Have some food first.”

“I’m good.”

He stops what he’s doing and leans out to look at me. “Are you kidding? When was the last time you ate?”

I shrug, and take another sip. “This morning?”

Cade comes over to me and holds out some kind of sandwich.

“Really, I’m good.” I take another sip. It’s really delicious.

“All right, Hemingway,” Cade says, plucking the glass from my grasp. “Eat something or you don’t get any more. That’s an order.”

“Yes master.”

He goes back to the kitchen, and makes himself a drink.

“What’s wrong?” I ask when he sits back down and doesn’t say anything.

He shakes his head, then looks at me. “I like you. More than that.”

“I more than that you too.”

“Are you drunk?”

“Me?” I press a finger between my breasts. I look down at them, and my finger suddenly comes up and hits myself in the nose. I stare at him, mouth agape. “Why’d you do that?”

“You’re not that drunk.”

I rest my head on him. “Tell me what’s wrong, o’ brother of mine.” I cringe as soon as I say it. Maybe I am a bit drunk.

“That.” He pushes my head off him. “Look. I love you, but…”

But I can’t hear him. Those words, and my world’s gone dark, gone bright with light. So bright that I can’t see anything at all, can’t hear anything over the ringing of the light.

My vision clears, my ears stop ringing. Cade’s looking at his glass.

“I love you too,” I whisper.

But he must not hear me over the airplane.

“Maybe it’s different for you, but my family…”

I wait.

He downs his glass in one gulp.

“Hey there, Sinatra.”

He smiles while looking at his empty glass.

“You know that sheriff?”

“The one who tried to frame us?”

“No. Well, maybe. Bridget. Bridget Burton. From the airport.”

“Oh. Yeah. What about her?”

Cade lifts his glass as though to take another drink, sees it’s empty, lets it and his hand drop back to his lap.

“She’s… She’s my— Cynthia’s cousin.”

I stare at him, waiting for him to continue.

He looks from his glass to me.

“Okay. Is that supposed to be… impressive? So what, this is some family feud? I don’t get it.”

He shakes his head. “Do you think my mom loves your dad?”

“I don’t know. I think they did, at one time.” I gesture back and forth between us. “It was pretty good there, at first.”

He nods. “And now?”

I shrug. “I think my dad will do whatever your mom says.”

“But do you think he loves her? Is in love with her?”

“Who knows. Maybe some people just aren’t meant for true love.”

“Oh maybe they never find it. Or if they do, it’s someone they can’t love. Someone they aren’t supposed to.”

“Like Romeo and Juliet.”

“Or like Juliet and Juliet.”

“Uh.”

“Mags, Cynthia is cheating on your dad.”

I’m silent for a minute. “I don’t know how I feel about that. I think I don’t feel anything. I think I knew, maybe.”

“But do you know who with?”

“No. Do you?”

Cade nods.

I stare. “Well don’t keep me in suspense! It’s killing me. Spill.”

But he doesn’t smile. He looks up at me, into my eyes. “It’s Bridget. My mom is sleeping with Bridget.”

My world is rocked. I never thought Cynthia had unassailable moral character, and have long suspected she’s cheated on my dad.

But that was suspicion. I could chalk it up to hating her guts.

But this…

“Hey,” I say to Cade, touching his thigh.

He pushes my hand away gently, and puts it in my lap.

“That’s not…” The same thing, I want to say. But I can’t bring myself to.

Is this why he pushed me away? Is this why he is hot one minute, and then ice the next? There’s so many questions I want to ask him.

And I can’t ask him any of them. Not now. At least not
right
now.

But they’ll be time for that, I tell myself. Because whatever else is happening, I’m with him now. I’m safe.

He just saved me again. Maybe I wouldn’t have been sent to Guantanamo, but I would have gotten sent back to that house. Back to Cynthia.

And while I’ve never had to endure waterboarding or standing for ten hours straight, in many ways my house was worse.

I stare down at my hands, resting awkwardly in my lap, unable to move them for fear it will make things more awkward, and yet, yearning to reach out and touch him, the desire growing second by second.

We sit in silence for a long time.

Every so often, I look at him. He spends most of the time on his phone.

I’d use mine, but the broken screen makes it tedious.

I’ve just given up trying to play Candy Crush when the plane lurches, the combination of frustration and shock finally giving me the courage to speak: “How much longer before we land?”

Cade glances out the window. “Can’t tell.” He presses the intercom button, then lets go of it. “What was his name?”

“Major.” I smile.

Cade shakes his head. He presses the button again. “Hey, how far out are we?”

There’s no answer.

“Jesus, touchy guy,” he says to me, letting go of the button. He pushes it yet again. “Major, how far out are we from SF?”

Still nothing.