by Mia Ford
“What are we talking about here, Jess? What kind of a potential problem?”
“It’s Mr. Stevens. Fred Stevens.”
“What about him?” Drew asked, frowning.
“He’s on the plane. Not only is he on the plane, but from the way he smells, he’s pretty seriously intoxicated.”
For a very long minute, neither Drew nor his co-pilot said anything. I could see Drew's jaw working and the veins in his temple pumping overtime, though. I knew he was pissed, and I felt my unease click over into genuine fear. Drew had no tolerance for people like Fred. I understood why, but that didn't mean I wanted all hell to break loose on the plane. It had been my duty to tell the pilots about Stevens being on the plane. I believed that. Stevens was drunk, and technically, we could kick him off the plane just for that. But now, it was Drew's duty to put his personal feelings aside and make a decision based on safety. When he finally opened his mouth to speak, I held my breath, terrified of what he might say.
“Just keep an eye on him, will you?”
“That’s all?” I asked.
"That's all. He's not behind the wheel, and he's not flying this plane. I don't love that he's on this plane, but for now, we’ll let the man fly. But if he kicks up any kind of disturbance, tell me immediately."
Chapter 21: Drew
“Things are looking good up here, right?” I asked.
"Roger that, Larson," my co-pilot answered without ever taking his eyes off the sky in front of us. I had flown with the guy a couple of times and never had a problem with him. But having Stevens on the plane made me appreciate a competent co-pilot all over again. Jess had left the cockpit with my reassurance that Fred being on our plane was nothing any of us needed to worry about, but in my gut, I had a bad feeling.
This was a man who had been given an opportunity to clean up his act and had refused to take it. This was a man who had waited for me in the shadows of the airport to whine, complain, and ultimately launch threats. Maybe him being on our flight was just a shitty coincidence, but then again, maybe it wasn't that at all. Maybe he was there to start trouble, and if that was the case, I couldn't stand knowing that Jess was out there dealing with him while I was safe in my little locked room.
“Good,” I said. “Hey, do you mind if I step out for a minute? I’m going to use the bathroom.”
“And double check to make sure Stevens isn’t doing anything he shouldn’t be?”
“Maybe,” I said.
“Sounds good to me. Look, I heard all of the same rumors as you did about the guy. I get that he’s hurting, but he’s also out of his fucking head.”
“Exactly,” I said.
I hit the intercom button, and in no time flat, Tony was there to keep my co-pilot company. I thanked him and stepped out into the little hallway that led from our cockpit to the bathroom, which I really did need to use. I looked around quickly, taking stock of the lay of the land on the plane. That sick feeling was still there in my gut, telling me something was wrong, but I couldn't find any evidence of it. As flights went, this one looked to be relatively uneventful.
Most of the passengers were dozing while the rest read or held quiet conversations. I located Jess, who smiled at me as she served a drink to one of the lucky first-class passengers. I smiled back and turned back to my business, shaking my head and chastising myself for being so damned jumpy. That was when it happened, during that turn. That was when all hell broke loose.
When I turned back to face the passengers, the first thing I saw was that Jess's beautiful smile was gone.
For years to come, I would think of how quickly everything had flipped into chaos. I had only turned my back for a moment, but it had been enough time for Stevens to jump out of his seat and grab hold of Jess, who had been directly in front of him as she had gone about her duties. One of his arms was currently wrapped around her neck while the other held an impossibly sharp pencil up to her throat. It didn't take a genius to see that he could do some serious damage to her. He might even be able to kill her, and if he did that, I would die, too.
“Drew?” she asked in a voice that sounded far too far away. “Drew, what’s happening?”
“Shut up, you stupid cow,” Stevens spat. “Nobody wants to hear what you have to say. Why don’t you let the men do the talking?”
“Fred?” I spoke as calmly as possible while my insides raged against my lack of activity. “I’m not sure what your end game is here, but let’s talk about it. Why don’t we start by putting the weapon down?”
“No, pretty boy! No way! This isn’t how this is going to work. You've done enough fucking talking to last you the rest of your goddamned life. There ain’t shit you can do now. No amount of words is going to get you out of this. You ruined my life. You think I give a shit what you have to say now?”
“You still don’t get it, Stevens. I didn’t ruin your life. You’re right that I turned you in. I told you that I would. But I also told you that you had a chance to get your life turned around. What happened to that, man? You could have changed everything for yourself.”
“Why, just because you told me to? You think you’re my fucking priest or something? I didn’t need you to tell me how to live my life. I just needed you to mind your own fucking business and let me tend to mine. We could have gotten along just fine if you could only have done that. But you couldn’t, could you? You had to stick your fucking nose in. What’s happening now? This is your fault.”
“You’re right,” I said.
“Excuse me?” Stevens shouted, tightening his grip around Jess’ throat so that she started to gag. “Can you say that a little louder? I don’t think I quite caught that!”
“I said you’re right, okay? You’re right. It’s my fault and mine alone. It’s not hers, okay? Jess has nothing to do with it. She didn’t ever do anything to you, did she? She was never anything but kind, right?”
"I don't give a shit what she was. Casualty of war and all of that. You ruined my life, and now I'm going to ruin yours."
Fred’s hand pulled the sharpened pencil closer to Jess’s throat. She gasped as she felt it dig into her flesh. My stomach churned with bile at the sight of her. I had to do something to save her. No matter what it took.
“So then do it,” I said. “Ruin my life, but leave her out of it. She doesn't deserve this, man. If anybody deserves this, it's me, and we both know it. I fucked you over. Not her."
Fred nodded, considering it. “So what do you propose, pretty boy?”
"A trade, plain and simple. Let her go, and you can have me."
“No, Drew!” Jess wailed through the choke hold Stevens had her in. “Don’t! He’ll kill you.”
“Shut up, bitch!” Stevens snarled, yanking her around like she was a ragdoll. “Nobody asked you!”
“Come on, Fred,” I said, keeping my voice even, despite the fact that I wanted to kill him. Literally kill him. “Her for me. Even trade.”
I could see the moment when he made the decision, and I felt a surge of triumph I had to hide as best I could. This wasn't over yet, and if I allowed myself to start thinking that it was, somebody was going to get hurt. Maybe even killed.
“Fine,” Stevens said. “You’re right. Why would I want to use her when I’ve got you right here? I’ll let her go, but not until you’re close enough for me to get to. Deal?”
"Deal. Jess? Don't worry, baby, okay? It's going to be okay. I promise you. It will be."
“Don’t listen to him, baby,” Stevens spat contemptuously as the passengers around him whimpered and murmured. “Because I can promise you it won’t be.”
I could see that she believed him, and as much as it hurt me, it was just as well. I couldn’t have Stevens suspecting that there was anything happening outside of his plan or else he’d kill Jess. I knew that, the same way I had known something was wrong before I had figured out what it was. I got close enough to the two of them that I could smell Jess’s perfume, close enough that I could have kissed her, and then look
ed at Stevens.
“Now or never, right? Let her go, man. You’ve got the one you really want to hurt, ready and waiting.”
Stevens grinned a dead-looking grin and pushed Jess away from him so hard that she went sprawling into the lap of one of the passengers across the aisle. I heard several people gasp and knew they would check to make sure that she was all right. All of my attention needed to stay focused on the task at hand. Stevens reached for me with his pencil brandished, and that was when I threw my hail-mary punch.
Chapter 22: Jess
"No! No, Drew! Please, somebody, help him!"
Everything was happening very quickly now. I felt like I had been thrown into a movie, like I was watching what was supposed to be my real life with horror. Because there was nothing I could do about it. It had been terrible to be Fred Stevens's hostage, but it was much, much worse to watch him struggling with Drew. If I hadn't been one hundred percent sure of my love for him before, I was now. Now that I was watching him struggling to keep himself safe, I knew that I would not survive if something happened to him. That was something I couldn't go through again. It was something I refused to go through again.
I was still struggling to get up from the heap Fred had tossed me into, but even wedged between seats, I had a good view of the passenger rushing down the aisle to help Drew.
Stevens had taken a seriously hard punch, one I had actually heard, but it didn't appear to be slowing him down any. Stevens was probably so drunk, he couldn’t feel anything. He lunged at Drew, again and again, snarling and spitting and throwing his arm wildly. The pencil slashed through the air, and although there was little precision to his drunken movements, it would only take one hit to do some serious damage.
Drew ducked and swayed, keeping out of the way, but he showed no signs of getting away from his attacker. Of course, he didn't. He wasn't the kind of man who ran away from a fight, especially not when it was a fight he felt responsible for creating. Even when the other passenger reached Drew's side, Stevens fought like an angry bear. The two men showed no signs of subduing their target. Stevens continued to rant and rave, terrorizing all of the people around him.
“Even now!” Stevens shrieked. “Even now you can’t do what you’re supposed to! You made a deal, pretty boy! You made a fucking deal!”
“You’ll have to forgive me for not thinking that’s a good idea, Stevens. Not when you’re acting like this.”
"I don't have to forgive shit! You've robbed me, Larson. You've robbed me again and again, and now I see that you're still doing it!"
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, man,” the stranger interjected. “But I know you need to stop. You’re drunk, man.”
“You don’t know a goddamned thing,” Stevens snarled, turning on the good samaritan and brandishing his pencil. “You don’t have a clue what you’re getting involved in.”
"You're right,” the man said. “I don't. But it doesn't take a genius to see that you're wasted. Just put the pencil down, okay? Put the pencil down before you actually hurt somebody and get yourself into some real trouble."
“Trouble? You think I care about trouble?”
“Sure, man, everyone does.”
“No! Wrong! Not everyone. People who have already lost everything don’t give a shit about getting into trouble. I don’t have anything left to live for, not since this son of a bitch turned me in for drinking on the job. The only thing that’s kept me going these past months has been the idea of hurting him. I suggest you get the fuck out of my way!”
I screamed again as Stevens lunged forward, stabbing the air with his makeshift weapon. At the same time, both Drew and the helpful passenger moved forward, each of them taking hold of one of Stevens's arms. I thought for a moment that it would be over then, but Fred's rage seemed to have given him extra strength. Even as Drew and his accomplice tried to drag him forward, he broke loose again and began to run for the door that led to the outside of the plane. Seeing as we were thousands of miles up in the air, this caused a whole new wave of alarm amongst the passengers, and they began to babble and scream themselves.
“He’ll open the door!” One particularly loud woman wailed. “He’s going to kill us all! Everyone duck your heads, it’s the end!”
"No!" I said loudly, trying very hard to sound even a little bit calm. "No, please, calm down! He can't do that. Everything is pressurized. The door won't even open. Please, everyone, try to remain calm. I know that's hard to do, but it's the best thing we can do to help them."
The general upset didn't die down completely, but it was enough that I was relatively sure there wasn't going to be a stampede. Under the circumstances, I was happy just to have that. I started toward the front of the plane, where Tony had attempted to join the fray with a set of zip ties meant to restrain Stevens. Unfortunately for Tony, Stevens knew that was exactly what would happen, and he threw out a hard punch before Tony could even lay a hand on him, sending my friend flying and knocking him to the floor in a heap.
“Enough, Stevens!” Drew bellowed, the extent of his anger becoming clear to me, despite his impressively maintained calm. “That’s enough! You’re hurting innocent people now. You’re scaring people! Is that what you wanted? What you were aiming to get out of this whole plan? To turn yourself into some kind of comic book villain?”
“You know what I want, pretty boy. You’re just too much of a coward to give it to me. Only big and strong when you’re doing it behind somebody’s back, right? You’re no fucking better than I am!”
"Please," a little old woman cowering in one of the seats beside me moaned as she tugged on my sleeve frantically. "Please, you've got to make this stop. Somebody is going to get really hurt. I think that young man he knocked out probably needs to see a doctor. He's probably got a concussion, and nobody can do anything about it as long as that man is still terrorizing everyone!"
The mention of poor Tony, along with the clear danger Drew was still in, is what finally got me moving. Without thinking about what I was doing, I reached up into one of the overhead bins and grabbed the first thing convenient to me. It happened to be a rather heavy wooden cane, and I took off running towards Fred, going on blind faith that he would not turn and see me coming. I swung the cane as hard as I could.
All it took was one large crack over the head, using all the strength I had in my body, and Fred crumpled to the ground, every bit as unconscious as Tony was. Drew quickly grabbed the zip ties out of Tony's limp hands and bound Fred's wrists so that when he finally woke up again, he would find it a good deal more difficult to come after any of us.
“Jess,” he called out as he worked, a voice that seemed to be coming to me through a haze. “Jess, are you okay?”
“Fine,” I said. “Just fine.”
He took a second to grin at me. “Nice hit, slugger. I’m pretty sure that was a home run.”
“I broke the cane, though,” I said, turning back to the passengers around me. “I’m sorry. I don’t know who this belongs to, but I broke it.”
The old woman who’d tugged at my sleeve smiled at me. “That’s okay, dear. I don’t mind. If he moves, you whack him again!”
I laughed, even though I could feel the tears beginning to run down my cheeks. I almost didn’t notice the loud sound of raucous applause from the passengers.
Chapter 23: Drew
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“Please,” Jess said, barely out of the shower and wrapped up in a towel. “You have to stop asking me that. I swear, you’ve asked that same question a thousand times since we checked into our hotel.”
"I know,” I said, shaking my head. “I just can't stop seeing it, you know? I can't get the image of him holding you hostage out of my head. If he had done anything to you, if he had hurt you?" I stopped, unable to finish the thought.
"But he didn't, Drew. He didn't hurt either one of us. And we can't let him get to us like this, okay? If we let him get into our heads, it's kind of like we're letting him w
in, and I don't want to do that. He didn't win, right? We did. Wanna know how I know?"
“How?” I asked.
"Because he's in jail right now, and we're here. In what is easily the nicest hotel I've ever stayed in, by the way."
That was enough to get me smiling, which made her grin widely in return. Still wearing nothing but her towel, she sat beside me on the lavish king-sized bed and put her hand on my knee. I grabbed her hand, holding onto it so tightly that part of me was worried I might actually hurt her. All the while, she looked at me closely. I could tell she wanted to ask me something. All I had to do was wait.
"Drew? What's really going on here? I mean, I know what happened on that plane was terrifying, but I feel like there's something more than that. I wish you would tell me what it is. I'm only starting to worry more, and after all that drama, my goal is to worry less."
“It’s nothing, really. It’s just that this was supposed to be a special trip.”
"I'm not sure what you mean by that, but we both know this is something we won't ever forget. I bet you didn’t know you were dating a freaking ninja?"
I laughed at her in confusion. “What?”
She shrugged. “Come on, you saw my moves up there. Boom! I knocked his ass out with one hit. And he never even saw me coming, either. Cause I had the reflexes of a cat, the eyes of a hawk, and the, uh, cane of an old lady. Still, I was a total ninja.”