Chapter 8
“I don’t remember, Nina, but whatever you do, don’t get on a damn plane. Have you lost your mind?”
That was debatable. If my sisters knew that I’d been taken against my will, flying wouldn’t be what killed Harlon. It would be my sisters, and I knew for a fact they’d never find his body. “Okay,” I said, taking a breath. “Was it a big plane?”
“No.”
I rubbed my forehead. “How many people on board?”
“Five.”
I spun around to face Harlon. “How many people are on this plane?”
“Four,” he answered.
Relief was instant, and I knew my legs weren’t going to give out.
“Nina, who are you talking to? Who took you on a plane, because I know you didn’t go willingly.”
“It’s fine, Mercy. There are only four people. I’ll call you when I land in about an hour. If you don’t hear from me, then you got it wrong.”
“Nina….” My name was the last thing I heard as I hung up, knowing she wanted answers I couldn’t give her.
“We can go,” I said, tossing him back the phone. “That was a close call,” I said, picking up the towel and running it over my head. I passed him in search of more towels. “You could have died today, and then who would have saved your sister’s life?”
“You’re soaking wet,” he said, catching my hand against his hard-muscular chest. He stared in my eyes. “You should go change. I packed you a bag.”
I slowly lifted my gaze to his after being yanked out of where my thoughts were headed. I pressed my lips together like a seam. “You went through my things?”
“It was either that or let you borrow my clothes again. I just packed a few things, to get us situated. If it’s not enough, I’ll send Ruby out to get you whatever you need.”
I didn’t even want to know who Ruby was if it wasn’t his sister. I slipped my hand free and stepped into the bedroom, grabbing a bag off the floor. His bag. A pair of handcuffs lay on top, a gun beneath, and more of those god-awful flannel shirts.
I picked up the other bag. My sketchbook was open to the page with Harlon in an apartment with men pointing guns at him. I moved the book to see what other things the lumberjack had thought to pack.
Three pairs of jeans. Ones that had just been laundered and had been folded and sitting on my dining room table. A few shirts and several bras and panties that had just been carelessly tossed in. I ignored the heat creeping up my cheeks knowing he’d seen just how many granny-panties I owned.
I dug further into the bag. No shoes except for the ones I’d worn into his shower, which were now dry. Perfect. Hiking boots. No toothbrush, no shampoo or conditioner, and no freakin’ makeup. I sighed in aggravation, looking for a bright side. I wasn’t dying today, so that was a plus.
As we got seated and buckled up, the plane accelerated again, and I clutched the armrests. Harlon was staring at me as if trying to figure me out.News flash, buster. There was no figuring me out. If there had been, I would have done it by now.
I held my breath as we lifted off the ground. My stomach relaxed much more when the plane leveled out and the seatbelt sign light turned off. I tilted my head from side to side to dislodge the tension that had hardened my muscles like the medicine ball sitting in my basement.
“Start at the beginning,” I said.
Harlon got up and walked to the back of the cabin and returned with two bottles of water. He passed one to me.
“Three weeks ago, I got a text from my sister telling me that my stepfather was in trouble. She claimed she couldn’t explain over the phone because it was too dangerous.” Harlon took the seat across from me.
“So the guy in the picture is your stepdad, huh?”
Harlon nodded. “Yeah, that’s Manny.”
“What does he do for a living?”
“He the CEO of the security firm that we all work for.” Harlon cleared his throat. “I was out of the country when I got the call, so I had one of my teammates, Quinton, look in on my father since he was in New York on a case and was closer. Quinton said my stepfather had been mauled and left for dead. It’s a miracle that he’s still alive.”
“And your sister?” I asked.
