I shrug. “We will buy the tickets in the airport at the last minute with cash. The international passport website is a lot harder to hack and it may give us some time. I’m assuming, up until this point, they were tracking our credit card.”
“But what if they do track us and are waiting at the other end?”
My eyes hold hers. “It’s a possibility.”
She rubs her forehead with both hands as she thinks. “Stace, I don’t like this.”
I grab her hand over the table. “I know, baby, but it’s going to be harder for them to take you from an international airport than it is from a deserted country road in South America.”
Her eyes rise to meet mine.
“I feel like I need to get you back on American soil.”
“Why?” she whispers.
“I just do. We have no contacts over here and the police don’t know your circumstances. Hell, the police are probably on his payroll. I don’t know the dynamics of this country and it makes me fucking nervous.”
She closes her eyes as she grapples with the concept.
“Do you get where I am coming from?” I ask.
“I suppose.” She sighs as she looks off into the distance.
“Hey.” I squeeze her hand. “Look at me.” She drags her eyes to meet mine. “It will be okay. We will get the passports and disappear.”
“Promise?”
I hold my glass up and clink it with hers. “On my life.”
The sound of Rosh’s breathing is comforting. She’s fast asleep on my chest and tucked safely under my arm. Every night, around this time, is when the dark thoughts creep in. I start to worry, just after she has drifted off to sleep before me. I rub my cheek back and forth over the top of her head as I think. She nestles closer and kisses my chest in her sleep.
I’ve never had this before. I’ve never felt so contented, so connected to one person. My mind goes back to Mandy, my childhood sweetheart, and a heavy sense of regret fills me.
I haven’t let myself think of her much over the years. I guess I’ve always been too disappointed in myself to let my mind go there. I loved her. I loved her so much, and yet on trips away I would sleep with other woman at different ports around the world.
Why?
I think back and I can remember how aroused I was all the time and how badly I needed the touch of a woman when I was away… any woman. Why didn’t I just break up with her? I think on it for a moment. It was because when I went home she was the only woman I wanted in my bed. She was the only one I wanted to talk to. It went on like that for a while. I would go away for six weeks and be home for six weeks. In the end it was the guilt I felt when I looked in her eyes that brought me undone. I wonder if I hadn’t finally ‘fessed up, would we have married? Would I have gotten over the young and stupid stage, or was there something lacking in our relationship that made me do it?
She would have done anything for me, and I for her. Except the obvious: Loyalty.
I couldn’t do that.
She moved on quickly and was dating within a year, hooking up with a nice stable guy. She married him and they have two small children now.
I don’t think I ever recovered.
I’ve never let myself get close to anyone since. I never want to cause anyone that hurt again. My mind goes to the moment I told her I had slept with someone else and the haunted look on her face. She didn’t believe me at first, and then her heart broke as she wept on the bed as I sat helplessly at her feet.
I will never forget it as long as I live.
I get a lump in my throat still, seven years later. Along with my brother’s death, it is the most painful memory I have, and I caused it for both of us. I gently kiss Rosh’s forehead as she throws her top leg over mine. And now I have this woman. I’m head over heels in love with her, and yet we only met because I kidnapped her.
What kind of man have I turned into?
My brother would be so ashamed.
I lie for half an hour in the dark staring at the ceiling as I go over and over all the mistakes I have made. My lips rest on her forehead. For some reason I need to physically touch her or I can’t relax. Why do I feel so different about Rosh? Why is this love incomparable to anything I have felt before? I feel like an out of control schoolboy who would die on the sword for his all consuming first love.
The thought of being with someone else turns my stomach.
She’s strong, crazy, unpredictable, and yet vulnerable like a child. I feel like, with her, I need to be the adult in the relationship. The urge to protect her is almost primal and I’ve never experienced anything like it before. Sexually, she blows my mind. Mentally, she constantly challenges me, and yet I know that she would leave me in a heartbeat if she thought it was for the best.
Her strength scares the hell out of me, partly because I know I can’t control it. The first woman I can’t control and she’s learned how to detach herself if she needs to. What if she walks away from me to save my life?
Or worse.
What if she dies?
I couldn’t bear it. I can’t bear the thought of living without her.
I squeeze her that little bit tighter in my arms and I know it’s going to be another long night in the dark alone. I’m certain that if nobody accepts the job to kill Vikinos, it will be one of our last together.
They are closing in.
We are running out of time.
* * *
Rosh
Stace sits at the other end of the row of seats opposite me. My eyes meet his and he snaps them away. I am wearing jeans with a large black hoodie, and a red wig that is platted down my back with a baseball cap shielding my face-another disguise. We are at the airport and, true to Stace form, he is being super careful and won’t even let us look at each other. He’s edgy. We had to leave the guns. This is the first time since it all happened that we have been completely unprotected, but we have no choice if we want to board an airplane. He is on his phone and I know he is searching to see if there are still flights available on the next plane to Vegas. The plane starts boarding in an hour. We only have half an hour to get on if we are going to make it. What is he waiting for?
I text him.
You need to get the tickets or they are going to close the flight.
He reads it and then runs his hand through his hair in frustration and texts back.
Five more minutes
For God’s sake. I text back.
Stop procrastinating and just fucking do it!
His eyes flicker up and he raises a sarcastic brow. I smirk and drop my head. He doesn’t like me telling him what to do, but that’s too bad. He needs to get us on this flight. He waits for a few minutes and then stands and goes to the counter with our two passports. I go and stand behind him in the line as if I don’t know him.
“Two tickets to Vegas, please.” He shuffles around in his bag and gets out our two identifications. “Seated separately, please.”
The stewardess frowns as she types in her computer. This could be a disaster. If we can’t get on the plane, then we have alerted them to where we are for nothing.
I hold my breath as we wait for her answer.
“The next flight is boarding in forty minutes, but you have missed the luggage.”
“We only have carry on.”
She glances to the two small bags we have with us. “Oh, okay. I can get you on that one then, if you want.”
“Yes, please.”
Relieved, I glance around at our surroundings. Life on the run isn’t as fun as you would imagine. I feel fifty.
He gets the ticket and leaves mine on the counter to collect, then he goes to walk in the doors and I walk up to the counter as a decoy. “Excuse me?” I ask the stewardess as I slide my ticket off the counter. “Do you mind me asking where you got that watch from?” I ask.
“Oh, it’s nice isn’t it?” She smiles.
I glance over at Stace as he disappears into the early check in lounge.
“Harrods in London,” she replies.
“Great, thank you,” I call as I take off after my love. That was so rude, but I don’t really want to know where she got her crappy watch. I walk through the check in gates and hold my breath as I walk through the scanners. Our five diamonds are scattered around the bottom of my bag with a handful of beads as if they are junk jewellery and the plan is, if I get picked up, to say that they were in a costume jewellery necklace I had bought. They wave me through and I see a trace of a smile cross Stace’s face as he slowly waits for them to check his bag in front of me. Happy with the result, he turns and walks in, and I follow and sit down two seats down from him. I take out my phone and text him.
Can we sit together now?
He texts back.
You know we can’t.
I blow out a frustrated breath and he looks over at me before he texts again.
You can sit on me when we get home.
I frown as I read his text and reply.
Where is home?
A text bounces back.
Wherever you are, is my home.
I smile, and for some stupid reason I tear up. I reply.
I love you
I watch him smile as he reads it and texts back.
I love you more.
I tuck my phone into my backpack and clasp my hands in my lap and smile to myself. Not long now. We are nearly there.
“Cabin crew, prepare for landing,” the captain’s voice echoes through the cabin. The flight has been long and uneventful. I am looking forward to getting Stace alone. It seems ridiculous that I could miss him after not being able to sit with him on the flight. I turn in my seat to look back at him. He is seated four rows behind me with three guys. They seem to be getting along famously and I have sporadically heard them laugh as they talk.