Cruel Kisses: It’s Just High School #2
Page 16
I didn’t like how that felt and I’m still scrambling for a way to shake it off me. Julian Fitzgerald had too much power over me and I hated that. I hated how I began to lean on him, how I fell for him and now according to Nicky, I can’t even be close to him because of dangers unknown.
This is all messed up.
In no time at all, we arrive at LAX with only thirty minutes left to check-in. I rush to the ticket counter with my false identity intact, but for some reason, I’m still looking over my damn shoulder like someone is watching me.
The hairs at the back of my neck rise, I feel a tingling going down my spine like several pairs of eyes are on me but when I turn around to scan the large area, there’s no one is paying any attention to me, it’s almost like I’m invisible.
But still, there’s this nagging sensation I can’t shake.
That’s because you’re a paranoid, self-harming, depressed mess who’s going to die alone, with no one to ever truly want or love you.
The thing about that voice in my head is that, it doesn’t lie. Everything is true and sooner or later, the truth is going to catch up with me, making me face the consequences of what I didn’t do for Nancy when she needed my help to save her life.
“Enjoy your flight, Miss Hazel,” the lady behind the counter says. I fake a smile then make my way to the wrong gate, knowing damn well that my flight is already boarding.
If I’m being followed, I want whoever it is to think I’m headed for New York City. I even booked and paid for a ticket with my real name and the thing about technology is, I could do online check-in and go straight to the gate since I didn’t have any luggage other than my carry-on.
So whoever is watching or monitoring my movements will think that I’m on that flight and on my way to New York. But just in case they’re watching me now, I go straight to the gate where they’re calling for a New York flight. I sit down, all while briefly checking the time. I have to be across the airport to my actual gate in less than five minutes or all of this would have been for nothing.
“Final boarding call from LAX to JFK. All passengers on this flight please make your way to gate E,” the lady on the speaker announces and just then, I watch as a family of maybe ten, rushes toward the gate. They have toddlers and grandparents, and bags flinging everywhere, it’s just chaos. All of them look flustered and I decide that this is my chance.
So, while the big-ass family makes a spectacle of themselves, running toward the gate, I make my move knowing that all the attention is currently on the family—because people in airports don’t really know how to mind their own damn business.
I take the opportunity to blend in with them, then duck in the side hallway that coincidentally leads to my gate.
Shit. I’m over here working double time meanwhile there might not even be anyone following me, but there’s still this feeling…
I practically race down toward my gate, getting there just before the lady starts packing up to close the gate.
“You’re late,” she says with a snarky look on her face. She eyes me like I’m the last bitch standing in the way of her Friday night drink up.
“The plane is still here, isn’t it?” I fire back, not in the mood for this.
She eyes me silently then accepts my ticket and passport.
“First class, 3E,” she says, passing me my passport and ticket back. I stare at her dumbfounded, blinking like a cartoon character.
“I didn’t pay for a first-class ticket,” I murmur, alarm bells now ringing through my head. No, this can’t be happening.
“Well, you were upgraded, honey,” she says while smacking the gum she’s chewing like some hippie, southern waitress.
“Upgraded? By who?”
The hairs at the back of my neck stand up on end making me turn around in search of something…someone… anyone. Who would upgrade me? Who would know that I’d be on this flight especially when I used a fake identity?
“Upgraded by the airline of course,” the rude lady says, staring down at her computer. “It’s a free upgrade. Nobody paid for it.”
“A free upgrade?” I scoff. I don’t think so. For one, how often does that happen? How many people just get upgraded anytime like this, on a late flight, for free? This isn’t like the movies.
“Yes,” she sighs, looking beyond annoyed with me now. “It’s a free upgrade. Most people would be thankful and excited for a chance like this. Now, are you getting on the damn plane or should I call and tell them to take off?”
Whoa, okay then.
“Uh, yeah, I’m going,” I mutter distractedly.
I’m in a daze when I board the plane. There’s a low buzz filling my ears, making my shoulders tense. You know that drumbeat that comes on when something crazy is about to happen in Jumanji? Yeah, I feel like I can hear that sound getting louder the closer I get to the seat one of the flight attendants is directing me toward.
My heart is in my throat. My palms become sweaty and when I see that there’s someone seating in the seat beside mine, I still in my tracks, starting to panic.
Who is that? Is that the danger Nicky promised? Could it be my father? Does he know where I am? Is he the one who upgraded me, because for as long as I’ve been alive, my father has never flown coach. He could the one in the seat beside mine, ready to ambush me.
I mean, if Julian could track me, it means my father can also track me. Or John for that matter.
I need to get off this plane.
I start looking around, panic constricting my airways. I see the flight attendants closing the door, and I think of rushing toward them, demanding for them to let me out. But I don’t want to make a spectacle of myself. This might be a set up for all I know. I start sweating, standing in the middle of the isle, feeling my pulse go erratic. What do I do? What should I do?
I’m about to turn and run when I get an idea. By passing the flight attendants that are now about to make their final checks, I quickly approach a woman sitting in economy by a window seat at the very back. The place is for two and the man sitting beside her looks like unproblematic, older, and so damn calm.
“Excuse me, ma’am,” I start, and she looks up with a smile.
“Yes dear?”
“I’m sorry, I was wondering if you’d like to switch seats with me?”
“Uh, I’m keeping my window seat, sweetheart, sorry,” she says with a kind smile.
“Yes, I understand that. Mine is also a window seat.”
“So, what seems to be the matter, love?” she questions, kindness in her eyes that makes my throat tight.
“Uh, I just thought you’d enjoy my seat more than I will.” God knows I’ve enjoyed my fair share of first class everything until we went broke. “See, my seat is in the first-class cabin and I think you’d love it there.”
God, this is crazy. I can feel several pairs of eyes on me, but I focus on the lady. She’s so stunned that I have to ask her again. She nods her head quickly as her eyes well up with tears.
“Oh my God, nothing as nice as that has ever happened to me before,” she whispers, getting up now. “I’ve just lost my house, my husband of twenty years cheated on me with my cousin and his reason for cheating was I wasn’t sexy anymore and that my cousin looks a bit like me so I should take comfort in the fact that he thinks about me each time he does it with her.”
What a pig.
She’s about to hug me but I stiffen, and she notices. “Oh, I’m sorry I just…”
And now I feel like a bitch.
“I’m sorry, I’m not really a hugger but I do think you deserve good things to happen in your life,” I rush to say, literally thrusting my ticket in her hands so she can go find her seat up there.
“I have no idea what to say,” she gushes, covering her mouth with her palm. Bless her heart, she’s been through some shitty times but I’m not doing this to be kind. I’m a selfish bitch, that’s what.
“Just say you’ll enjoy the flight,” I whisper, my throat tight.
A rush of relief slams into me when I store my bag in the overhead compartment. At least back here, I should be safe. For a moment I think I might have overreacted. Maybe coincidences do actually happen.
Really, Mia? A coincidence? The universe is rarely so lazy. You know that.
Whatever, I’m choosing to hang on to the notion so I make my way toward my seat, passing by the kind gentleman who gives me a warm smile like one would give a stranger about to join you on an eleven-hour flight.
I settle in the window seat with my heart in my throat. For some reason, I don’t want to go. It’s like Palos Verdes has a ball and chain around both my legs and I’m dragging myself out and so far, it’s been painful.
We get ready to take off and as I try to find some kind of comfort in the damn economic seat, I see movement from the corner of my eye.
When I turn fully to look at my older neighbor, he’s unbuckled, sitting at the edge of his seat, counting a wad of hundred-dollar bills as a dark, intimidating figure stands over him.
No… It can’t be.
My heart starts racing when I see his hands clenching and unclenching, like he’s literally fighting to hold himself back.
No, no, no…
I want to scream. I want to look up and confirm that it’s him, but I don’t, holding on to the fact that this might be random. That it might not be who I think it is, but who travels with that much cash on him, unless they’re like me, running away from shit covered in thick darkness?
I’m so nervous and out of breath, too cowardly to check.
“It’s all there, unless of course your greedy ass wants more,” the voice growls so low, it literally kick starts my heart. It’s him.
I snap my head up to look at him and immediately my eyes clash right into his smoldering gaze.
Dark, turbulent green to frightened, tear filled blue.
Oh God.
“Get the fuck up and go,” he grits out, anger darkening his eyes further until the green disappears.
I’ve only ever seen Julian angry like this twice before but right now, the way he’s holding himself back, it’s got a murderous intent to it. I bet my last dollar that I’m one of the poor souls he wants to get rid of.
He doesn’t look away from me for even a second as he speaks, but his tersely worded command hits its target.
The older man gets up with an embarrassed look on his face and quietly takes his suit jacket and his carry-on as well as his wad of bloody cash and walks away knowing damn well that he’s a pimp. I mean, it’s like he just sold me on the black market to an angry, sexy as hell man who holds my shattered heart and soul hostage and as our gazes hold and lock, I swear he will be the death of me.
Julian shrugs off his black coat, still watching me and hangs it where my treacherous ex-neighbor had hung his suit jacket. I watch as he pulls up the sleeves of his black hoodie, exposing his muscular forearms. I hold my breath, taking in the way he looks, like dark knight, here not to save me but to end me.
His gaze drops down to my lips for a long second, his nostrils flaring. My heart beats in sync with the ticking of his jaw, then he looks up into my eyes again, stealing my breath away.
Say something. Why won’t he say something?
The air crackles between us as the energy shifts and expands like the surge of electricity about to shock us to death.
From the corner of my eye, I notice other passengers around us glancing at us, like they can also feel the mounting tension so thick, you can slice it seven ways to hell with a sharp, butcher’s knife.
How apt though; Julian’s stare is shredding me up with the knife lodged at my side from all the times I’ve been gutted by everyone in my life, including him.
“Mr. Fitzgerald, please take your seat sir, we’re about to take off.”
Julian glances at the flight attendant, giving her a withering look that makes her gasp and take a step back. If I wasn’t shocked and frozen in my seat, I would have said something about how Julian’s horns were showing, but I can’t speak.
I have no idea why I’m so tongue-tied, but I am.
I think back to everything that happened from the moment I left the hotel. Was he following me all along? Did he know I was leaving? But how?
I’m seated, frozen in my seat really, holding his gaze, feeling like I’m going to burst into tears of frustration. I don’t need trouble. I don’t need all this. I just need some peace.
I tug at the sleeves of my hoodie, the need to run and hide so powerful, I have no choice but to hang on to the anger so as soon as he sits, I make it a point to ignore him. I stare out the window but all I can see is his reflection staring back at me. It’s dark out anyway, I can’t see anything but distant lights on the runway.
I can feel his cold gaze touching every inch of my body, the frostbite goes past my clothes until I visibly start trembling. God, there are so many words that need to be said, so many emotions being felt but we’re silent as the plane taxis on the runway, then we take off and all the while in my head, I’m counting.
What is he waiting for? Why isn’t he speaking? I know for damn sure he has a lot to say. The last time I saw him, he shattered me, telling me to my face how horrible I am.
So, I keep counting to distract myself from the tension and how attuned my body is to him.
I can feel his silent rage as he stares at me.
I can almost hear his silent demand for me to look at him, but I stubbornly look out the window, clutching my fingers so I don’t bring any part of my body close to him. Fuck, I shouldn’t have gotten on this plane.
As soon as the seatbelt sign switches off though, he moves like the speed of lightning. Snapping his seatbelt off, he reaches over and removes mine as well, forcing me to look at him.
“What the hell are you—”
I don’t get to finish that shit because he presses his lips to mine in a hard, unrelenting, angry kiss that swallows my words, my protests, hell, it swallows my entire soul.
Oh my God.
This. He was waiting for this, right here.
I want to fight him. I want to push him away. I even bring my arms up, planting them on his hard, solid chest but instead of pushing him away, I clutch the soft fabric of his hoodie and kiss him back like this is our first time.
He demands entrance at the seam of my lips with his tongue and when I gasp, my lips fall open, his tongue plunders in like he’s declaring war. A war that I’ve already lost with a single cannon fire from him.
He kisses me deeply, desperately, like he’s punishing me and himself at the same time.
He kisses me like he wants this to be the last thing before we run out of air and die. And because I feel like I just want to let go, I cling to him with tears running down my cheeks and kiss him back with the same intensity.
We kiss like this is our last time. Like we’re about to lose everything.
In this moment, right now, he’s all I feel. He’s all I can focus on. Just. Him.
He wraps his arms around. I have no idea when he pushed up the armrest but I’m practically in his lap as he kisses me.
When a low moan escapes my lips, my eyes shoot open. Common sense slams into me and I realize where we are and push away from Julian the same time he does.
“There,” he says huskily, completely unaffected. “That was for foolishly thinking you could leave me.”
I stare at him still shocked at his audacity and the fact that he’s here.
“I could fuck that defiance out of you right here, right now but I’m an asshole who doesn’t share my girl, not in anyway. Remember that, Mia.”
A frisson of arousal shoots through me to the point where I shift in my seat, making him smirk just a little bit like he knows what he’s doing to me. It’s the seriousness in his eyes
that makes me pause. He really means it. He doesn’t share and I doubt that applies to anything else in his life. Just me.
“Oh my God,” I gasp, breathing hard and fast, my cheeks red with mortification. The things that come out of his mouth though.
Julian stares at me, then reaches up slowly to cup my face in his hand. With an indecipherable look in his eyes, he wipes my tears away with his calloused thumb, making a shudder go through me.
Fuck, I hate that I cried—while he was kissing me!
I can’t believe I just let myself go like that. I try my best to avoiding the prying eyes staring at us. Lucky enough they aren’t whispering at us or recording—I think.
“You should’ve just taken the first-class seat, maybe they wouldn’t be looking at you like you’re about to star in a cheap Mile High porn flick,” Julian mutters, completely unbothered by the attention on us. In fact, he looks as cool as the devil, his gaze hard and unyielding as he stares at me, his thumb stroking and awakening flutters in my belly.
I blink and stare at him, hardly believing that he just said that. I want to slap him across the face, but I don’t want to suffer through another embarrassing moment inspired by him.
“What the hell was that?” I whisper, my voice hoarse and raw.
“That, Little Minx, was a cruel kiss.”
“A cruel kiss? There’s no such thing.”
“Little Minx, who lied to you that kisses can’t be cruel?” he questions, a light mocking in his voice that sends a shiver of awareness through my body. “You thought you could run away from me a second time, Mia?” he questions, a dangerous note in his voice. “I won’t have that shit and if I have to be cruel in order for you to learn your lesson, then so be it.”
A thrill runs through me when he says that, but the cold, hard, unrelenting bitch in me takes his words and phrases them as a command one would give a dog.
“Excuse me?” I reel back, moving away from his touch. “You don’t get to tell me what to do. I’m not yours.”