13
H ow is this my life?
She was more than a little sure she’d asked herself that question more than once over the last hours. She still didn’t understand it, yet here she was in what Caleb had called a weapons crate.
Weapons. Crate. OMG. I’ve lost my mind. Or at least lost the plot.
This had to be what being a character in a sadist author’s book was like. She was in a weapons crate, which was currently being loaded onto a plane. She bit back a cry when it thumped down hard. If being a human pretzel had been her goal in life, she was killing it so hard right now. If only the guys carrying the crate didn’t have to drop it, bump it, and bang it so much, it would be freaking awesome.
That’s going to leave a bruise.
Bruises are better than Janek finding you, or you know, being dead.
Closed in a box.
You can’t get out.
Stuck.
Trapped.
She was trying so hard to remain calm, but her brain was fighting her every step of the way. She bit down on her lip until she tasted blood. The pain at this point was the only thing keeping her from freaking out completely. She should probably have told Caleb she was claustrophobic before she climbed into the box and allowed him to close the lid.
Breathe.
In and out.
Don’t panic.
Don’t freak out.
She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to recapture the feeling from last night when Caleb had wrapped around her when the nightmares called.
It’s not working.
Shh. It will work.
Remember how he held you.
His arms tight but not too tight.
I am in a bo ? —
Nope—not that—his chest hair under your fingertips, that was awesome, right?
The bands around her chest tightened, making every inhale painful.
How much longer?
She linked her fingers together, moving them in a wave motion, and concentrated on how her knuckles shifted under her skin. She counted in her head backward, skipping two numbers at a time, just to ensure she had to think as she did it.
She strained her ears, trying to make out the sound of voices, searching for his voice. Caleb’s voice. It was ridiculous how fast he’d become the touchstone she searched for in the dark. Had she not learned her lessons with Janek? If there was one thing her ex had taught her, it was that she had terrible taste in men.
That thought sent her spiraling in another direction, and her brain imagined Caleb as a serial killer and his team as his cohorts. She unlinked her hands and stuffed her fist into her mouth, afraid if she didn’t, she’d scream, and someone would notice the weapons box contained weapons that walked and talked instead of ones that went boom.
The darkness gave way to light, and she blinked, covering her eyes with one hand. It took a couple of seconds for her to realize the box was open. She scrambled to stand up, smacking at his hand when he reached for her.
“Baby girl?”
She shouldn’t love that he called her that, but she freaking did. It made her feel like she was something important to someone. Even if she wasn’t important to him, it was enough to pretend she mattered. He was certainly making her feel like she did. But right now, she’d cheerfully smack him silly for being the asshole who’d had the oh-so-fabulous idea to smuggle her onto a plane in a freaking weapons box.
“What’s wrong?”
He reached for her again, and she bumped her lower back as she retreated from him. “Let me out. Can’t breathe.”
“Fuck.”
His growl sounded angry. Why the frick frack was he angry? He wasn’t the one locked in a box that got smaller by the second.
“You’re claustrophobic. Why didn’t you tell me?” He ignored her struggles and lifted her out of the box.
“Let me go.” It was probably bitchy to yell at him, but she didn’t have the spoons to stop herself from doing it right now.
“Easy.” He steadied her until she got her bearings, then released her.
She stumbled forward to the closest seat and sank into it.
Oh God. Never again. I’d rather meet Janek in the dark every freaking night.
“I’m not going back in that box.” She rubbed her nose with her sleeve. Disgusting or not, she hated the sniffling and dripping.
“Here.”
She snatched the paper puke bag from his hand and put it to her mouth, sucking air through it like she’d never have another chance to breathe.
“Just breathe for me, baby girl.”
What had been sweet before now sounded patronizing. “Don’t.” She smacked at his hands. “Just don’t.” She was so embarrassed. How could she ever look any of these people in the eye again? She was making an idiot out of herself, but there was little she could do but concentrate on breathing.
Caleb, the ass, made soothing noises as his hand rubbed up and down her back as she hunched over the puke bag. He switched from those noises to crooning words close to her ear. It was just as damn shame they sounded like gibberish to her. It could be English, French, Arabic, or maybe Martian. Because, like Dorothy, she was no longer in freaking Kansas. The only difference between her situation and Dorothy was her tornado had a name—Caleb Freaking Hunt.
She could hear a baby babbling, which told her Dalton’s family was on board the flight, too. That little nugget of information helped ease some of the disquiet inside her. What serial killer took their baby along for the ride? None that she’d ever heard of.
“Is she okay?”
“She will be in a couple of minutes, Boss.” Caleb reached across her stomach, ignoring her, smacking at his fingers. “I need to fasten your seatbelt.”
Seatbelt.
Plane.
“O-okay.”
He managed to snag one side of the seatbelt and bring it across her stomach. Then, he clipped the ends together and secured them by tugging on the strap. “Go sit down, Boss. She’ll be good in a minute.”
“Okay. Let me know if I can do anything.”
“Thanks, Boss.”
Dalton must think she was a ninny. “I’m sorry?—”
“Shh.” Caleb’s hand smoothed over her hair. “You should have told me. We’d have figured out another way.”
“You went round and round looking for another way for two hours,” she reminded him. “You all agreed this was the only way. I survived.”
“But you’re upset.”
He sounded angry. She didn’t want him to be angry with her. She didn’t know him well enough to know what angry Caleb was like. She didn’t want to find out while she was secured in a chair beside him with no escape. “It’s not the first time I’ve been upset, and it won’t be the last. It’s okay.”
“It’s the first time I’ve upset you,” he grumbled, “and that pisses me off.”
Wait, was he angry with himself and not with her? She wasn’t sure how to handle that. “It’s okay. I swear, I’m okay.”
“Hah.” He snorted. “You’re only trying to make me feel better.”
“How did you guess?” She still felt shaky, but it was easier now that she was focused on talking to him.
“Because you, baby girl. You are a fixer. You see a problem, and you want to make it easier by fixing it.” He kept his voice low. “Indy told me how you jumped in to fix the lack of photographer problem. You knew it could bring you trouble, but you did it anyway because it would ease your friends’ troubles.”
He wasn’t wrong, but that he’d figured her out in such a short space of time was weird, right?
She relaxed her grasp on the paper bag and straightened on her seat. At the whoosh of the plane as it accelerated down the runway and lifted into the air, she wrapped one hand around the arm of the seat next to the window. The higher the plane climbed, the safer she felt. By the time the plane leveled off, elation swept through her; once again, she’d outwitted Janek. This time, she’d had a lot of help, but she’d done it. She was safe… she hoped… for now at least.
The seatbelt light clicked off, and a buzzer sounded. Caleb opened his seatbelt. “I’ll grab you some water.”
“Thanks.” When he stood, he moved toward the back of the plane, and she leaned over to look around, trying to figure out what kind of plane they were on. Her eyes widened when she took in the leather seats, what looked like a mini-sized conference table, and a kitchen. A. Kitchen.
Holy crap, is this a private jet?
The last time she was on a private jet was… never. She’d flown first class with Janek a few times, but never on a whole-ass private plane.
Wow. Holy cow, but wow.
This must be how the other half lives.
She shifted back into her seat when Caleb approached from the kitchen area and took the water bottle he offered her. “You aren’t just a soldier, are you?” She found he had loosened the cap but once again not fully opened it for her.
“What gave it away?” He grinned and sat next to her. “The boss’s swanky plane?”
Or the company logo, Nemesis Inc., stitched into the back of the headrests.
I know, maybe it was the freaking chef’s kitchen back there.
Or maybe the couches…
“Yeah.”
He sipped on his own bottle of water. “We’re contractors, baby girl.” Closing his bottle, he stuffed it into the net on the seat in front of him. “That means we’re no longer employed by the US military. We still work for the government, though, or at least the boss’s company does. This plane, that’s just one of the perks.”
Seemed like one hell of a perk to her. But she decided when it came down to it, having money meant very little. She’d take being safe over having buckets of money any day of the week. “Nice perks.”
“Eh, it’s not me. I didn’t grow up with this kind of stuff. Nem did. But he couldn’t care less about money. He uses it to ensure his people have the best access to what they need to get their jobs done and make it home alive.”
Caleb clearly thinks a lot of his boss.
Noted.
“Want to watch a movie?” Caleb pulled up the embroidered flap, revealing an entertainment center. “It will help pass the time.”
“Um, sure.”
He stood up and reached into an overhead locker, then handed her a set of Bluetooth headphones. “You get to pick. I’m probably not going to have seen many of what’s on there, as usually I’m so tired by the time I sit down here, I’m asleep before we’re in the air.”
Reading between the lines, she figured he meant they’d been working before getting on the plane. But as she had nothing but movies to reference what he did, she could be totally wrong. “What kind of movies do you like?” Maybe she should put on a chick flick and make him suffer as she had by being carried onboard in a freaking crate, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it.
“As long as it’s not a war one, we’re good.”
She glanced at him curiously, her fingers pausing over the list of movies on the screen. She thought all men liked action movies. “Why not a war movie?”
“Because you’ll spend the whole flight with the guys yelling, ‘That’s not how it works.’ Or, ‘take your finger off the trigger, ya dumb fuck. Are you asking to shoot yourself in the foot?’” He grinned at her. “When you know how it works, the movies take on a whole new aspect.”
That made sense to her. “Chick flick? How about Barbie… you all look like you could use a little pink glitter in your lives.”
“Hell no,” Dalton, who was passing, grumbled. “We were in Italy for a wedding before Draven’s, and we got glitterfied during glitter-wars by that rat-bastard Marks. Pink and glitter are the last things I want on my damn plane.”
“What’s a glitter war when it’s at home?” she whispered to Caleb.
“Paintball, but with glitter.” He leaned his head in toward her. “The boss is only cranky because he got pinned down and his wife, Lina, kicked ass.” He jerked. “Ow. Fuck you, Nem.”
“Asshole,” Dalton grumbled as he passed them, going back to his seat with a baby’s bottle in his hand.
“Pick Barbie,” Caleb whispered. “The boss will just have to get over his aversion to pink and glitter.”
She looked at him out of the corner of her eye, trying to figure out if he was serious or not.
“Do it,” a woman’s voice from behind them urged. “I dare you.”
“Eep.” She spun around at the unexpected voice.
“Sorry.” The woman’s eyes twinkled between the seats. “I’m Becky. The lug next to me is Kentucky. He’s Caleb’s team leader,” she explained. “Most of the guys on this plane are on their team. Most of Draven’s team is here, except for Rexar. He doesn’t do family functions, but you’ll meet him when we get home.”
She wasn’t quite sure what to do with all the information coming at her. “So, Barbie movie?”
“Please.” Becky nodded. “I’ve been trying to get Tuck to watch it for ages. He can’t escape while we’re on a plane.”
“We have parachutes, and I know how to use ‘em.” Kentucky wrapped his arm around Becky. “If you’re going to insist I watch it, then you get to sit here and deal with me.”
“Oh.” Becky disappeared from between the seats. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“Umm.”
Caleb chuckled softly. “Want me to grab some popcorn?”
His offer sounded so out of place that her mouth dropped open. “You have popcorn?”
“After everything you’ve seen, it’s the popcorn that gets you?”
“Um… yeah.” She knew it was weird, but she couldn’t help it. “Yeah, it does.”
“I’ll grab some.” He stood. “Becky, do you want pops too?”
“Yes, I’d love some. Thank you, Caleb. See, Tuck, why can’t you be more like Caleb, grabbing me popcorn and insisting Barbie movies are okay?”
She listened to the couple bickering and tried to wrap her mind around how or where her life had taken a wrong turn and ended up in the twilight zone. Because there was no place else this could be but the freaking twilight zone.