Page 42 of Wicked Games
“Is there something you’d like to tell me, Lucky?” Banks asked.
“I don’t have anything concrete to tell you,” I said. I purchased the plane tickets with a personal credit card. If Banks was monitoring my personal bank accounts and credit cards, he’d know it. I needed to bait Banks into revealing something I could use—either proof there’s a mole in the group or I have someone trailing my every move. “I’m tracking down a lead right now.” I refused to consider the bomb Percy dropped the previous day.
“Where?”
“Does it matter?” I asked.
“It does if I’m paying for it.”
“Have you seen any travel expenses coming through on my Somersby accounts that indicate I’m traveling?”
“No.”
“There’s your answer then.”
“You’re telling me you’re still in Cincinnati?” Banks asked. I could hear the hardness in his voice. He knew damn well I was on the move but couldn’t admit it without showing me his hand.
“Technically, I’m in Covington, Kentucky, but I won’t be here much longer.” As if an answer from above, our boarding call came over the speakers. “Got to go, Banks. I’ll be in touch soon.”
“Luc—”
I hung up before he could finish and pocketed my phone. “He must be monitoring my credit cards.”
“We’ll use mine from here on out,” Ryder said. “If he doesn’t suspect we’re together then he won’t bother trying to hack into my records.” He held up my hand when I scowled at the idea of him funding our trip. “I have plenty of money to fall back on. I’ve been saving it for an adventure of a lifetime, and here we go.”
“To Miami,” I reminded him.
“A wise man once said it might only be the first stop on our journey.”
“True,” I conceded. “They’re boarding the premium seats now. That’s us.”
We stood up and walked to the gate to board the plane. Once we stowed our bags and sat in our seats, the flight attendant took our drink orders.
“At least the Jack Daniel’s will make the Coke less painful to drink,” Ryder told me.
“You could’ve chosen water or something else,” I said.
“Nope. I’m going to need alcohol to get through this flight,” he said, closing his eyes and breathing deeply.
“You don’t like to fly?” I never knew that about him.
“I like to fly okay, but I prefer to sit in the back of the plane.”
“Why? Your legs are much too long for you to sit comfortably back there.” I noticed the death grip he had on his armrest and knew he wasn’t yanking my leg.
“Have you ever heard of planes backing into things?” Ryder whispered.
“No.”
“See,” he said, “it’s safer to sit back there.”
“Here’s your drink, sir,” the flight attendant said.
“Oh good,” Ryder said, sounding relieved. “Thank you.” He accepted the cup and took a long drink. “Let’s find an in-flight movie to watch. Something with an adventure to distract me.” I just sipped my screwdriver and smiled as Ryder looked through the options. I adored learning these new facets about his personality. “Here we go. Action, adventure,andromance.”
I looked over and saw he’d chosenRomancing the Stonewith Kathleen Turner and Michael Douglas. “I haven’t seen this movie in years. It’s one of my mum’s favorites.”
“Mine too,” Ryder said excitedly. “She used to practically swoon over Jack T. Colton. We both wanted to be Joan Wilder.” He took another drink and laughed. “This movie made me want to write romance novels.”