“—trained—they will panic like children—no—”
“—be normal, Cin, be—”
“—we can’t do—”
“—stop, just stop—”
The words turned to a whisper level and I couldn’t hear. The tones weren’t deep enough any longer. I pressed my ear and palms to the door, praying they’d say something else. It wasn’t enough. I didn’t have anything to go on.
Shit. My hands started to tremble. I ran them under the weak stream of water in the tiny sink and dried them. I unlocked the door. The flight attendants had left the galley. Before anyone noticed I did a quick glance over the counters, but there wasn’t anything left out that indicated a problem. All I had was my gut instinct and the few trigger words I heard through the bathroom door.
I walked back to my seat. I took my time to observe the passengers in first class. Nothing had changed in the ten minutes I had been gone. I readjusted my seatbelt and reached for the bag at my feet.
I unzipped the side of my bag and pulled out my laptop. None of the boundaries I had set mattered right now. I had to figure out what was going on.
There was one place I knew I could go. The only place where no conversation was off limits. Where data flowed freely in sordid chat rooms. Where money really could buy you anything you wanted. Information. Sex. Drugs. Exotic animals. It was the only place I knew where to turn in the middle of a crisis of this scale. If this was as dark as I thought it was, I had to access my old life.
I powered up the laptop and logged on to the plane’s Wi-Fi. It wasn?
?t my first choice, but at 30,000 feet there wasn’t another option. If I wanted to follow intelligence chatter, I needed a signal. Any kind of signal before I could enter through my own VPN.
I cringed when I entered my credit card information to log on. I didn’t have time to encrypt my data. I had to get on. Everyone around me was streaming movies and shows, slowing the network down to a fucking snail’s pace. I was the only one searching the dark net database for security breaches. If I could kick everyone else off I would.
I leaned my back into the window, shielding my screen from the aisle while I tapped out code. Code that came back to me easily. It was like riding a bike. A treacherous deadly bike.
Within minutes I was in.
I scanned chat rooms. I focused on my old go-to channels. I was desperate to find a morsel of dialogue. I was too concentrated. Too focused. I never once looked up. I didn’t pay attention to my surroundings.
Because if I had, I would have seen him. I would have noticed the man who had shattered me. I would have seen him walk toward me. I would have felt the way the air changed when his body was near mine. I would have felt his gaze. Seen his intense eyes.
I would have had a second to prepare. Prepare for the crash that was bound to leave my body and heart mangled and twisted as brutally as an airplane spiraling headfirst into the ground. Possibly like this plane.
But I didn’t. I didn’t look up. I didn’t listen. I didn’t protect myself in time.
“Syd.” His deep voice did something sinful and powerful to me.
I bit my bottom lip and turned to look at him. It had to be a hallucination. A mirage. A creation in a time of peril and crisis. Perhaps he was the manifestation my mind created when I feared for my life.
“What are you doing here?” I whispered. I wasn’t ready to accept he was real. That out of nowhere he had appeared.
He slipped into the empty seat next to me.
“That’s hard to answer,” he responded.
I had once drowned in him. Swallowed every gulp of air he had given me, until suddenly he was gone. He cut off my oxygen supply. Without a goodbye. Without closure. Without the finality I deserved.
I shook my head. “No. No. No. You can’t be here. Why are you here?”
“Would you believe anything I told you right now?” he asked.
I looked in his dark eyes. Eyes that used to keep me awake at night. With just one look so much of the past rushed toward me like a tidal wave. I couldn’t get out of its path. I was bathed in it when I didn’t want to be.
“No. I’ll never believe a word that comes out of your mouth,” I admitted.
“Then I guess it doesn’t matter what I say. You won’t believe it or accept it. Should I make something up? Then you’ll at least have options.”
I looked around us. Everything seemed normal, yet eerie. It didn’t make sense that there was another round of beverage service with a ninety-minute flight. The 3B wanted another Bloody Mary. Didn’t she realize that the man that had shattered me was back? That five years had passed without a trace? The most earth-shattering experience of my life was happening right here. Right now. In the first class section on Flight 552.