Not me.
To me, it sounds like a clock ticking, growing louder with every second. A metaphorical countdown I can’t fucking stop. While we’re up here, floating in the fucking clouds, she’s still down there.
Every minute I’m in this seat is a minute too fucking long. I hate it. I hate how powerless it makes me feel.
The seatbelt cuts into my lap like a restraint I never agreed to. My leg won’t stop bouncing, my jaw’s locked up so tight I can feel the pressure building behind my teeth, and I’ve checked my phone enough times to wear a hole through the screen, even though I know damn well there’s no signal thirty thousand feet in the air.
I should already fucking be there. I should be tearingthose doors off their hinges, I should be dragging her out of that nightmare with her hand in mine.
The armrest groans beneath my grip as I squeeze it harder, like it’s the only thing keeping me from putting my fist through the cabin wall.
Maverick sprawls across the three seats he requires for his large frame, across the aisle.
He kicks his feet out, sighs dramatically, and pulls his backwards cap into his lap. “You know they’re gonna arrest you if you try to tackle the pilot, right?”
“Wasn’t fucking planning on it.”
Maverick raises a brow. “Your shitface says otherwise.”
He’s trying to be funny. He’s desperately trying to break through the tension building behind my ribs with sarcasm, dumb timing, and that stupid voice of his that always manages to get people to laugh.
Reed sits next to me, quiet as ever. His elbows rest on his knees, his fingers laced together, and his eyes fixed on the clouds outside. He doesn’t say anything for a while, breathes, calm and steady in that way that somehow makes me feel worse.
“She’s strong.” He says quietly, as he stares outside the cabin window.
Two words.
They hit harder than anything else could’ve. I nod once, but my throat’s too tight to let anything out. I know she’s strong. She’s always been strong, stronger than anyone gives her credit for. Stronger thansheeven knows.
But even the strongest people start to break when they’ve been locked in the dark too long, and that’s exactly what he’s done.
I grunt in agreement and drop my head into my hand,pressing a fist against my mouth, trying to breathe through my nose like that’s enough to keep it all in.
Maverick sighs loud enough for the entire plane to hear, kicking one leg out. “You’re gonna walk in there and wreck his whole life, huh?”
“Not if I kill him first,” I mutter.
He lets out a low whistle. “Fuck yeah. That’s the spirit. I, for one, am prepared to throw hands, shatter glassware, and carry her bridal ass out like a fucking rom-com finale.”
Reed doesn’t look away from the window. “You’re not carrying anyone.”
Maverick smirks, unfazed. “I’m emotionally carrying the team. Honestly, you’re both welcome.”
A laugh slips out. It’s not loud or joyful. It’s cracked, thin, and buried beneath too much weight to sound like anything real. But it’s there, caught somewhere between my throat.
Then just as fast, it’s gone.
“I’m going to get her out,” I finally say, “even if I have to drag her out through that goddamn estate.”
Maverick exhales with exaggerated flair, throwing a hand over his chest. “That might be the most romantic shit I’ve ever heard.”
I glance up, meeting his eyes, and the look I give him is sharp enough to cut through whatever sarcasm he’s about to throw next. “When we land, we go straight there. No bullshit.”
Reed nods once, his expression unreadable.
Maverick’s grin returns. “Perfect,” he says. “Let’s go fuck some shit uppppp.”
The seatbelt sign chimes overhead as a flight attendant rolls past with a cart full of ginger ale and pretzels like it’s just another Thursday in the sky.
