23. Jezebel

CHAPTER 23

JEZEBEL

S hit, shit, shit.

I hop-ran-skipped from the escalator to the gate and made it just as boarding was ending. The crutches elicited zero sympathy from the agent behind the desk as she gave me a dirty look.

“The gate’s about to close.”

“Well, it hasn’t closed yet, has it?” I thrust my boarding pass at her and tried not to pant. “I got delayed in security.”

After the scanner, I’d been pulled aside for secondary screening, which had never happened before, but today it did. It must have been the cast because I wasn’t on the watchlist, and I didn’t fit any of the other criteria that they denied using. The agent said it was a random check, which it wasn’t, and it was also a little nerve-racking because I had a dozen rounds of ammo hidden in my chunky necklace and half a gun in my carry-on. Luckily, said gun was custom-made and disassembled, with each component disguised to look like an innocent object. The barrel was in a hair curler in my suitcase. The firing pin was in a pen, which they actually looked at, scribbled with, and tucked back into my purse. Sure, I could have put a whole regular gun in my checked baggage and declared it, but where was the fun in that?

Anyhow, they were more interested in my crutches than anything else, but after they’d poked around and found nothing, and I’d not-quite-jokingly suggested they send me through the X-ray machine to verify the break in my leg, they finally let me go.

And then they’d offered to get a guy in a cart to drive me to the gate. Were they kidding? I wasn’t going to ride in a cart. I could get around fine, just not as fast as I usually did.

The gate agent grudgingly let me past, and I hustled along the skybridge to the plane, at which point a flight attendant confiscated the crutches and left me to hop to my seat. I needed alcohol. Lots of it. And preferably a towel because I had sweat dripping down the back of my neck and?—

Fuck.

“Bella?”

What the actual hell? Why was Cole sitting in the seat beside mine? My first instinct was to run, but the cabin crew had closed the door, and Cole would catch up with me anyway.

Fuck my fucking life.

Unless I wanted to cause enough of a ruckus to be arrested, I was stuck on an airplane for the next five hours. Hmm. Arrested? They’d probably just hold me for a few hours and give me a slap on the wrist, right? Demelza could send a lawyer, seeing as she was the one who’d gotten me into this situation in the first place.

“I thought I was never going to see you again,” Cole said.

Really? Ditto. But I didn’t say that because Cole hadn’t earned my snark, and how in the mother of all coincidences had I ended up in the seat next to him?

Then I realised.

I realised that I knew exactly how I’d ended up on this plane, next to this man.

And Echo was a dead woman.

I stowed my backpack in the overhead locker, fished out my phone, slumped into the seat, and scrolled through Cole’s latest “I miss you” message. Okay, so I’d cracked and read the rest of them, way to make me feel even guiltier than I already did.

Me

You’re not in Florida, are you?

Echo

I’m currently getting as far away from Florida as it’s possible to get without going into outer space.

Me

Wise move.

Then another thought struck me.

Me

Did you send me through secondary screening???

Echo

I actually do feel slightly bad about that part.

Me

I will hunt you down. I will hunt you down and force-feed you dry crackers until you choke on the soggy crumbs.

Echo

Gotta catch me first. Enjoy San Gallicano .

San Gallicano? What the hell?

A notification popped up on my phone, and it was another boarding pass. Dry crackers were too good for Echo.

Me

What if I’d checked a gun? Then what?

Echo

Well, did you?

A flight attendant appeared next to me, took one look at my scowl, and moved back a foot. “Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to turn off your phone or put it in airplane mode.”

It’s not her fault, it’s not her fault, it’s not her fault.

I took a deep breath and imagined I was a sniper on a hill. Still. Quiet. Focused.

“Of course.”

Just before I did as asked, a message from Tulsa appeared.

Tulsa

I put two hundred condoms in the side pocket of your suitcase. Thank me later. P.S. I’m wearing body armour.

She was. She’d even sent a picture. Now there were officially two people on my shitlist, probably three because I couldn’t imagine Dice didn’t know about this. And they’d probably told Priest. The whole damn world was conspiring against me.

Finally, I leaned back and closed my eyes. “Hi.”

“Are you okay?” Cole asked.

“No.”

“You didn’t know I was going to be here, did you?”

“No. ”

“I didn’t know I was going to be here either. I thought I booked coach, but there was some kind of mix-up and I ended up in business class.”

Echo again. She had tentacles in every system she thought might be useful someday, and her idea of a good time was sending out phishing emails. Usually, that was a good thing, but today, not so much.

“Enjoy the free wine. I know I’m going to.”

“Before you start drinking, I need to apologise.”

“Apologise? For what?”

“For pushing you. I thought we had a good thing going, and…I misjudged.”

There was that guilt again, eating away at me. “I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have walked away like that, but I thought it would be the least painful way to do things. Every night we spent together… I really don’t do relationships.”

Cole gave me a sheepish smile. “Friends? I promise I’ll never mention the R word again.”

I couldn’t say no to that. “Friends.”

“So, where are you off to? I thought you had deadlines this week? Or did you make that up so you wouldn’t have to spend more time with me?”

“I actually did have a big project I was working on, but I’ve been kinda stressed lately, so my friends ganged up and decided I needed a vacation. They’re covering the work for me.”

“Tell me Marcel isn’t going to be writing obituaries?”

Laughter burst out of me, and it was the first time I’d smiled in days. “Hell, no. He’ll bake cookies and act as cheerleader.”

“Brayden di Rococo slipped away from this world on the morning of July seventh, like a final, whispered line in an epic fairy tale,” Cole mimicked, doing a remarkably good impression of Marcel, even though they’d never met. “ His departure, much like his life, was marked by a quiet grace that belied the passionate heart beating beneath his photogenic exterior and rippling abs.”

“Don’t…”

“Brayden was survived by his three pet dachshunds and preceded in death by his companion of five years, Danté, the love of his life and loins, and partner in a romance that stood the test of time. Their love was an epic union of turgid shafts and…and… I’m trying to think of a fancy way to say ‘buttholes.’”

And this was why I liked Cole. He hadn’t taken it personally that I’d broken up with him, and he wasn’t bearing the mother of all grudges. You know what Bastian’s last words to me were? Right before I shot him? Maybe if I hadn’t taken second place to your job, things would have been different. Asshole. Just because I didn’t enjoy socialising every single evening didn’t mean— Aaaaaaand I was getting angry again. Even from beyond the grave, Bastian had that effect on me.

The jet’s engines rumbled to life, and I forced myself to reset.

To kick Bastian into the past where he belonged.

“I’m not sure there is a fancy word for ‘butthole.’”

“Glistening rosebud?”

I grimaced. “No?”

“Knothole of love?”

“Please, spare me.”

This was short-haul business class, not transcontinental, so there were no lay-flat beds, just bigger seats, better food, and free entertainment. No cosy little walls separating us from the other passengers. A woman leaned across from the other side of the aisle.

“Is it really appropriate to discuss such disgusting things in business class? ”

“So is it okay if we discuss buttholes in coach? Or was it the gay romance part that offended you?”

“Well, I?—”

“You know what? If you don’t eavesdrop on people’s private conversations, you’ll find a lot less to get offended about.” I fished around in my amenity kit and found the earplugs. “Here, have these. You need them more than I do.”

She spluttered a bit and threatened to call a flight attendant. Whatever. I focused my attention on Cole instead.

“Slippery starfish,” I whispered in his ear, and he snorted.

He’d missed me, and maybe I’d missed him a little bit too.

“I can’t believe you said that to her,” he whispered back.

“We weren’t talking loudly.” I never talked loudly in environments like this one. “She has sharper ears than the NSA.”

“So, if buttholes are out, I guess we’d better talk about something else.”

“If buttholes are out, I believe the technical term is ‘a prolapse.’”

“Stawp.” He rolled his eyes. “Where are you heading to for your vacation?”

I raised my voice a tad. “I was on my way to Climax, North Carolina, when I took a wrong turn at the airport.” Yes, she was still listening, and I was surprised she didn’t have deeper wrinkles with all that frowning she did. “The earplugs only work if you put them in, sweetie.”

When she didn’t make a move to open the package, I scooched closer to Cole, my amusement fading. Why couldn’t people mind their own damn business?

“I’d make a joke about Intercourse, Pennsylvania,” he said, “but that would hardly be appropriate given the circumstances.”

“This is such a mess,” I muttered.

“It is,” he agreed, putting his arm around me. It wasn’t that he was pushing boundaries, more that there was nowhere else for it to comfortably sit. I leaned my head on his shoulder, and my stupid eyes started prickling. Dammit.

“I don’t know where I’m going,” I told him, trying to distract myself from impending doom. I was here under false pretences. So many secrets…

“Miami?” he suggested. “Or are you flying on somewhere else?”

“So it turns out my friends are all on Team Cole. I was supposed to be meeting one of them in the Keys for a break, except it turns out she’s not even in Florida, and what they actually did was book me a flight to San Gallicano. They sent me the ticket for the second leg as I boarded.”

The plane reached the runway, and after a brief pause, gathered speed. Cole’s arm tightened as we roared into the air.

“You’re not a fan of flying?” I asked.

“Not until today.” His voice was tight. “I realise I haven’t met your friends, but I like them already.”

“Do you want them? I’m not sure I do anymore.”

Oh, the irony—they’d lied, and it hurt. I was lying to Cole, and I didn’t want him to get hurt.

“Spending time with me is that bad?”

I sighed. “Of course not. It’s just complicated, that’s all.”

“I like you, you like me. What’s complicated about that?”

When he put it that way, it sounded so simple, although in reality it was anything but.

“I struggle with connection,” I admitted. “Not the initial part, the ongoing part. It’s like I have a pot of coins, and every social interaction costs me.” Around the Choir, I was relaxed. I could be myself. On a job, I was focused. The rare moments of respite when I wasn’t at the Cathouse or working were the problem. In those breathers, I had to be constantly on my guard. “The thing between us had an expiration date, so it didn’t matter if I spent like a lottery winner. I blew everything in two weeks, and now I’m broke.”

“Use your vacation to recharge.”

“It’s not that simple. And I’m also a very private person.”

“I’m beginning to understand that.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to let you in. It’s that I can’t.”

“I wasn’t asking for marriage and kids.”

“I know. I just…panicked.”

“That’s the last thing I wanted.” He stroked his thumb over my shoulder soothingly. “You’re tired. I can see it in your face.”

“I barely slept last night.”

Mainly because I’d been chatting with T-Rex and Ari. Even with his capture, we weren’t much further forward, although we knew AceInTheHole must be moderately smart and connected to the criminal community. The dark web took effort to access, and you couldn’t find Amber Road via a search engine. The address—a long string of seemingly random letters and numbers—was passed from one dubious character to another, and it changed regularly. Innocent folks didn’t stumble across Amber Road.

“Get some rest. I’ll wake you when the food comes.”

“That’s it? Just ‘get some rest’?”

He kissed my hair. “Yeah, Bella. Rest. I want your coin pot to overflow.”

Cole kept his word.

He woke me when the flight attendants delivered food, and he gave me his cheese because he remembered that I liked it better than chocolate. I gave him my chocolate in return, and then I fell asleep again. It was strangely comfortable. I hadn’t realised how tired I was until I sat down in business class with the weight of the past few years on my shoulders.

And it wasn’t until a pilot announced our descent into Miami International that I woke up again.

“So have you made up your mind?” Cole asked. “Are you staying in Miami? Or flying to San Gallicano? Or heading somewhere completely different?”

I hadn’t made up my mind. Mainly because I’d been dreaming about him and the two weeks we’d shared. If I stayed in Miami, where would I go? What would I do? Echo wasn’t there, and I hadn’t booked a hotel room.

I could turn around and fly right back to Vegas, but then Demelza would kick off and I’d have to leave again pretty soon. Or I could drive someplace else in Florida and enjoy the bugs, humidity, and bad driving alone, but quite frankly, I’d rather pull out my own fingernails. Or I could walk up to the ticket counter and hop on a flight to who the hell knew where, but my options were restricted because the clothes I’d packed were tailored to the Florida climate. I didn’t even have a coat with me. Yes, I could shop, but I hated shopping. I left that to Marcel, and the clothes magically appeared in my closet.

So that left the Caribbean.

“There are plenty of hotels to suit all budgets on Ilha Grande,” Cole said as if he knew I was having a hard time making up my mind. “Five-star luxury, budget hostels, and if you need a place to stay for free, there’s a turtle sanctuary on Valentine Cay that takes volunteers as long as you don’t mind sleeping in a bunkhouse.” There was a long pause. “ Or you can stay at my place. I won’t be there most of the time, in any case. I’ll be out on the boat.”

“You don’t need me in the way.”

“You won’t be in the way. I’m going to head over to Emerald Shores tomorrow and spend three days preparing the Crosswind for her charter, then I’ll be busy with Dr. Blaylock’s party for the next three weeks. When I get back, I have four days to pack up my stuff so I can list the house on Airbnb.”

“You’re planning to stay in Vegas for a while, then?”

“I don’t think I have a choice. The situation at the Galaxy is far messier than I hoped it would be.”

“Where are you staying tonight?” I asked.

“With a friend. She has a sailboat, and she offered to give me a ride home tomorrow.”

“She?”

“Don’t worry, Frankie’s just a friend now.”

“Now?”

“I can’t say we’ve never been involved, but it was strictly a friends-with-benefits arrangement. If you need a bed for the night, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind you taking the spare room. I can sleep on the couch.”

Who was this Frankie and what did she mean to him? A hot bud of something unfurled in my belly. If I’d still been on speaking terms with Echo, I would have sent her a message the instant we landed and asked her to run a thorough background check on the woman.

Frankie. Even her name managed to sound cute and cheerful.

If I flew to Jamaica or Saint Vincent or the Bahamas, would he sleep in her bed? I really, really hated that idea. Which was ridiculous because Cole and I weren’t together and I didn’t do relationships, but I hated it, and I felt how I felt.

“Fine. I’ll come to San Gallicano.”