by Alyse Zaftig
“Were you hoping for a repeat?”
“No.” I shook my head. “I had no idea that you were here. I should…I should go.”
I tossed my coffee cup into the trashcan by the door and walked towards it. I should know better than to walk into a stranger’s house. I didn’t know what had possessed me.
But before I got there, Emilio put himself between the door and me.
“Excuse me,” I said, walking around him.
But he stepped to the side.
“Why did you follow me here? This cabin is the most private place that I have. Nobody knows that I even own this.”
“I didn’t know that you owned this cabin,” I protested. “And all I want to do is go home.”
But he had walked towards me. His hands were holding my upper arms. He wasn’t hurting me, but his grip was pretty firm.
“Let go,” I breathed.
I saw a look in his eyes that terrified me. The lover who had made me come over and over again was gone. The man in front of me, even though he was only wearing a towel, was looking at me with an intensity that went beyond the crazy passion that we had experienced.
“Who sent you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I tried to step around him again, but his hands were still on my arms.
“Let go.”
“What’s your name?”
“You know my name. I’m Naelle.”
“Naelle who?”
“This is insane,” I told him. “Listen, I’m going to leave now, and both of us are going to forget that I ever met you.” What a psycho.
But his hands were closing on my arms with more force, and I was starting to get really scared.
I was trying to remember what I’d been taught in the self-defense class that my father insisted I take before starting college. I couldn’t really aim very well when he had a towel on, but a knee to the balls would be pretty effective, and he was within close range.
I shifted my weight, but suddenly he was lifting me a foot off the ground, my legs kicking but just flailing around in the air. I was completely at his mercy.
“I’m going to ask you again, and you’re going to give me a real answer. What’s your name?”
“Naelle Montero,” I told him. “And you’re going to let me go.”
“Tell me, Naelle Montero,” he said, with a slight emphasis on my last name. “What are you doing in Ecuador?”
I gulped. “Running away.”
“From whom?”
“My ex-fiancé.”
“Hm. Tell me about him.” His tone made it seem like he doubted that I had an ex-fiancé at all.
“His name is Brayden Wilcox,” I said. “We just graduated from college, and we got engaged. But I found him in a closet with my best friend at our engagement party.”
“Nobody would be stupid enough to do that.” He snorted. “Not to a girl as beautiful as you are. Pull the other one…it has bells on.”
“I’m not joking,” I said, twisting a little. “That’s why I’m in Ecuador.”
“Well, Naelle Montero, why don’t we test that out?”
My eyes grew wide.
“What are you saying?”
“I can have some investigators look into it.”
“Okay…” I didn’t know what he was getting at.
“While you stay in the cabin with me.”
“What?” I gasped. “I want to go home.”
“Don’t worry. If you check out, you can go home. I’ll send my jet.”
“What are you talking about? How long is it going to take?”
“Just a few days.”
“Are you serious?” I struggled in earnest this time, trying to twist out of his grip.
“Or I can take you home right now.”
I stopped struggling. “You’d do that?”
“Why ask someone to do something that I could easily do myself?”
“So you’d let me pick up my stuff from the hostel and take me back to America…just like that?”
He shrugged and grinned at me.
“Let’s have an adventure.”
I had no clue what was going on, but if he was going to let me go back to the hostel, I’d have a chance to run.
“Okay,” I said.
He put me back on my feet.
“Let’s go.”
I couldn’t wait to get out of this cabin. Emilio during trivia night and in his bed was wildly different from Emilio when I had interrupted him in his secret cabin.
I went to the lift. I saw that it was pretty much empty.
“Hello,” he said to the operator, who obviously knew him well. I shouldn’t ask for help here. I needed to wait until we got back to Quito.
We got into one of the cable cars, and I wrapped my arms around myself as I went to sit in the furthest corner of the car. I stared out the window.
It was a lot scarier to do it while I was descending. The ride up had been fun, but it felt like we were in a plane that was slow-motion crashing into Quito.
I covered my eyes with my hands.
“Are you okay?”
I looked at him, trying to focus on his face and not the scenery moving around our little cable car.
“I’m acrophobic.”
“You felt comfortable walking into my cabin unannounced, but looking out the window terrifies you?”
“It does when we’re so high up,” I squeaked.
“You can look, you know. We’re not going to crash. If you have trouble handling this, what are you like on airplanes?”
“Airplanes are different. If we fall, we’ll pretty much die instantly. If we fall from here, we might survive or die in terrible pain.”
He shook his head. “You’re something else.” He chuckled softly.
I kept my hands over my eyes during the entire ride down to Quito.
Packing at the Hostel
Emilio
We grabbed a taxi that was idling near the exit of the TeleferiQo.
“Did you enjoy yourselves?” the driver asked idly.
“Yes,” Naelle said. She had her arms crossed as she stared out the window again. Apparently, now that we were on solid ground, she obviously felt a lot better. She was incredibly brazen sometimes, so it was a little shocking that she was so afraid of heights — or that someone who was acrophobic would decide to go on a ride up to the highest part of Quito.
“Where are we heading?” I asked Naelle.
“The Backpackers Inn,” she told the driver.
Then we were flying down the mountain, and she was covering her eyes again.
I closed my eyes, too, but not in fear. My mind was ticking things off a list. As soon as we took her things from the hostel, we’d get on my jet and head straight for America. I kept a packed suitcase at the hangar. The crew knew to put it in the jet when I used it.
Then we’d go to the United States, and I would check her out discreetly — as her boyfriend.
Nobody would need to know. I was sure that I could talk her into a simple arrangement: she would be free in America, I could check her out. If she was being truthful, I’d let her go, no harm done.
If she wasn’t, then it would be a different story.
It didn’t take long for the taxi driver to get us to The Backpackers Inn. I paid the amount that showed up on the meter and got out with her.
As I took her arm like a solicitous boyfriend, she had a look in her eyes like she wanted to bolt, but she’d agreed to come back to America with me.
It would be dangerous for me to let her go now. If she was sent by someone — the CIA, DEA, or one of my competitors — then she might have gotten what she came for when she’d slept in my bed.
I had no idea what was missing from my room, but if she’d taken anything, I would notice eventually. I might as well take control of the situation now.
We walked up the stairs. The hostel was nearly deserted — I supposed that most of the backpackers were out and about during t
he day. I didn’t know if this hostel was a particularly safe place for her to sleep, but she wouldn’t be here long.
She quickly packed her bags while I admired how efficient she was. She had enough clothing to last three months, but she had everything packed properly in less than an hour.
I walked her downstairs, holding her large suitcase in one hand and keeping the other one on her waist.
I could feel the tension in her back, but she didn’t say anything or ask me to stop.
I was going to keep her close until I found out if she was sent to take me out.
Although if she were an assassin, she should’ve already killed me in my sleep. She was probably after some kind of information, but I wasn’t a fool.
I didn’t keep that at home.
As far as my household staff knew, I was a petrolero, one of the wealthy elite of Ecuador who had tons of oil money.
I flagged down a taxi and asked him to take us to UIO, the new airport.
Private Hangar in Quito
Naelle
I looked out the window at the private hangar. My parents were wealthy, but I’d always flown business class, not in a private jet.
Emilio apparently had one that he could easily call at a moment’s notice.
Someone must have taken out my suitcase, because suddenly the handle was in Emilio’s hand.
I frowned.
“Don’t you need a suitcase? Are you just going to buy stuff there?”
“I keep a suitcase here.”
“Of course.”
It was normal for him to travel in his private jet. I was out of my depth here.
I cursed Past Naelle for letting him take her home. If I hadn’t slept with him… if I hadn’t decided to go up to the TeleferiQo… I wouldn’t be stuck in this mess.
Still, I had to admit that I was the tiniest bit excited about going on a private jet for the first time. Yeah, the circumstances weren’t ideal, but I’d take it.
I just wouldn’t say thank you.
I fumed quietly as I walked in front of him. I looked at the steps. They were sort of flimsy.
“Are they safe?” I asked him.
“Safe as houses,” he said cheerfully, as if he weren’t bundling me into a jet and making me go home to America.
I didn’t know why he was so suspicious, but he was obviously overly paranoid. Who would think that an American tourist would be hunting them down at the top of a mountain? He obviously had issues.
“How long does it take?”
“Well, you live in DC, right?”
I nodded.
“We’ll fly into Reagan. I can take you home. Meet your family.”
I blinked at him. “Meet my family? As what, my one-night stand who turned out to be psycho?”
I imagined walking into my home with this guy in tow. My dad would kick his butt so fast that Emilio wouldn’t know what hit him.
I smiled as I pictured it in my mind’s eye.
“Okay, yeah, great idea.”
“You’ll introduce me as your boyfriend, of course.”
“What!”
“I’m your boyfriend, at least for them. It’s the simplest explanation.”
“Nope,” I said, crossing my arms. “Nuh-uh. No way.”
“Don’t be childish. It’s the most efficient way to handle what needs to be done. I need to check out your story. When I’m done, you can just tell them that I was a passing fling or whatever you want. You can even tell them that you dumped me.”
I looked him up and down. He looked immaculate and extremely gorgeous.
“My mom would kill me if I dumped you. She’d be dreaming about grandchildren dressed in custom-made suits the second that she saw you.”
He shrugged.
“I’m willing to break her heart.”
I didn’t know if I was happy to deceive my family, but it was sort of a moot point. The second that I walked into my house with this guy, my dad could fix this. Yes, I had to run home to Daddy, but I had no idea that an impulsive decision made while possibly concussed would end up like this.
And he was so casual about the fact that my mom would be angry.
Whatever. The sooner I got out of this country and back on my own feet, the better.
“Get in the jet.”
He motioned with his chin for me to go inside.
Stopped
Naelle
I went up the steps. When I got to the top, I stopped in my tracks.
“Are you okay?”
My eyes were wide as I looked around. Everything was either covered in leather or mahogany. It pretty much looked like the jets that you saw in magazines sometimes.
“Wow.”
“Can I come in?”
I heard Emilio’s voice behind me and I realized that I was standing in the doorway.
“Oh, yes, of course,” I said, scrambling to the side.
He had my suitcase in his hand. I felt bad for making him wait for me to stare at everything while he was on the stairs carrying my big suitcase.
I went and sat down on one of the chairs. They were extremely soft and comfortable, almost like an armchair but on a plane.
Once I sank into it, I was already half asleep, and we hadn’t even taken off yet.
I might not be happy about the situation, but I had to admit that I liked the idea of traveling to America in a private jet. I hadn’t had to take off my shoes even once.
Speaking of shoes, I kicked mine off and I curled my legs under me. It would serve him right if my smelly socks stunk up the plane, but he didn’t say a word.
He sat down in the chair next to mine, even though there were plenty of other places on the jet.
“No escape attempts on the jet,” he warned me. “I’m going to keep a close eye on you. Don’t sabotage the engines. Stay away from the pilots.”
I snorted. “I have no idea how to sabotage an engine.”
“Mm,” he said, as if he didn’t believe me.
“What do you think I am? A Bond girl or something?”
He put his hand on my chin and gently pulled me to face him.
“Or something.”
I giggled from the absurdity of being a dangerous woman.
“I’m about as dangerous as a fruit fly, honestly.”
“If you were a trained assassin, it’s not like you would tell me.”
“Are you serious? Trained assassin? Just who do you think I am?”
“I guess we’ll find out, Naelle Montero.”
I pulled my chin away from his hand, but he continued to watch me, his eyes dark.
Turning my head so I could look out the window, I could feel the motor running as the plane got ready to fly. All of a sudden, I could hear the screeching of wheels as a car zoomed past our jet and parked in front of it.
“What’s going on?” I asked, but Emilio was already on his feet and walking towards the cockpit.
“What’s going on?” He said it almost as if it were a command and not a question.
“No idea,” they told him in Spanish.
I heard the radio crackle, but I couldn’t make out the words. I was too far away.
Emilio gritted out, “I’ll go down there.”
The door opened, and Emilio went down the steps to talk to them.
Little Bag
Emilio
I shielded my eyes from the fierce sunlight when I got to the bottom.
When I looked at the asshole coming out of the government car, I swore softly under my breath.
Son of a bitch.
“Hello, Señor,” he said mockingly. “Fancy meeting you here.”
“What’s the problem?” I asked. I had no patience for this.
“Just a standard check of your aircraft. You filed your flight plan at the last minute. We’re just making sure that there aren’t any drugs on board. We wouldn’t want any cocaine going to the United States, now, would we?”
I gritted my teeth.
“Be my guest.” I gestured with my
arm at my jet.
“You’re welcome to check it out.”
“Thank you,” he said, as if he weren’t a government official getting off on all this.
He went up the steps, and I followed him into my jet.
Naelle looked at him drowsily.
“Who’s he?” she said in a voice which meant that she was half-asleep.
“Just someone who wants do a quick check of the plane.”
“Mmm, okay?” Naelle said, her eyes shutting quickly.
The government asshole was crawling around the floor of my jet. I wasn’t sure what he was looking for. It wasn’t as if I would bring a shipment of our main product on my personal jet. It wasn’t worth the risk. I paid a lot of mules and super-mules to bring things to market.
He crawled under a seat.
“What’s this?”
What did he find, a bottle? I stopped myself from rolling my eyes. This “check” was a waste of time.
When he got to his feet, he had a very small baggie of white powder in his hand. There was a simple symbol on the bag, a big Greek omega.
I thought that he expected me to be more surprised, but I wasn’t.
“This is a setup.”
“I’m sorry, Señor, we’ll have to take you and this lady into custody.”
Naelle was awake now.
“What?”
“You were obviously snorting cocaine on this jet…one or both of you.”
“That’s preposterous,” Naelle sputtered. “I’ve been mostly asleep the whole time. I haven’t snorted anything in my entire life.”
“Neither have I.” But I shook my head at Naelle, and behind the official’s back, I put a finger to my lips.
“But we’re willing to come with you as we get this sorted out.”
“Excellent.”
He whipped out two pairs of handcuffs and put them on too tight.
Naelle yelped when he put the handcuffs on her.
“No! What the hell? You can’t do this to me! I’m an American citizen.”
“Just chill,” I told her.
“What the hell is going on?”