“He’s on the plane. Not only is he on the plane, but from the way he smells, he’s pretty seriously intoxicated.”
For a very long minute, neither Drew nor his co-pilot said anything. I could see Drew's jaw working and the veins in his temple pumping overtime, though. I knew he was pissed, and I felt my unease click over into genuine fear. Drew had no tolerance for people like Fred. I understood why, but that didn't mean I wanted all hell to break loose on the plane. It had been my duty to tell the pilots about Stevens being on the plane. I believed that. Stevens was drunk, and technically, we could kick him off the plane just for that. But now, it was Drew's duty to put his personal feelings aside and make a decision based on safety. When he finally opened his mouth to speak, I held my breath, terrified of what he might say.
“Just keep an eye on him, will you?”
“That’s all?” I asked.
"That's all. He's not behind the wheel, and he's not flying this plane. I don't love that he's on this plane, but for now, we’ll let the man fly. But if he kicks up any kind of disturbance, tell me immediately."
Chapter 21: Drew
“Things are looking good up here, right?” I asked.
"Roger that, Larson," my co-pilot answered without ever taking his eyes off the sky in front of us. I had flown with the guy a couple of times and never had a problem with him. But having Stevens on the plane made me appreciate a competent co-pilot all over again. Jess had left the cockpit with my reassurance that Fred being on our plane was nothing any of us needed to worry about, but in my gut, I had a bad feeling.
This was a man who had been given an opportunity to clean up his act and had refused to take it. This was a man who had waited for me in the shadows of the airport to whine, complain, and ultimately launch threats. Maybe him being on our flight was just a shitty coincidence, but then again, maybe it wasn't that at all. Maybe he was there to start trouble, and if that was the case, I couldn't stand knowing that Jess was out there dealing with him while I was safe in my little locked room.
“Good,” I said. “Hey, do you mind if I step out for a minute? I’m going to use the bathroom.”
“And double check to make sure Stevens isn’t doing anything he shouldn’t be?”
“Maybe,” I said.
“Sounds good to me. Look, I heard all of the same rumors as you did about the guy. I get that he’s hurting,
but he’s also out of his fucking head.”
“Exactly,” I said.
I hit the intercom button, and in no time flat, Tony was there to keep my co-pilot company. I thanked him and stepped out into the little hallway that led from our cockpit to the bathroom, which I really did need to use. I looked around quickly, taking stock of the lay of the land on the plane. That sick feeling was still there in my gut, telling me something was wrong, but I couldn't find any evidence of it. As flights went, this one looked to be relatively uneventful.
Most of the passengers were dozing while the rest read or held quiet conversations. I located Jess, who smiled at me as she served a drink to one of the lucky first-class passengers. I smiled back and turned back to my business, shaking my head and chastising myself for being so damned jumpy. That was when it happened, during that turn. That was when all hell broke loose.
When I turned back to face the passengers, the first thing I saw was that Jess's beautiful smile was gone.
For years to come, I would think of how quickly everything had flipped into chaos. I had only turned my back for a moment, but it had been enough time for Stevens to jump out of his seat and grab hold of Jess, who had been directly in front of him as she had gone about her duties. One of his arms was currently wrapped around her neck while the other held an impossibly sharp pencil up to her throat. It didn't take a genius to see that he could do some serious damage to her. He might even be able to kill her, and if he did that, I would die, too.
“Drew?” she asked in a voice that sounded far too far away. “Drew, what’s happening?”
“Shut up, you stupid cow,” Stevens spat. “Nobody wants to hear what you have to say. Why don’t you let the men do the talking?”
“Fred?” I spoke as calmly as possible while my insides raged against my lack of activity. “I’m not sure what your end game is here, but let’s talk about it. Why don’t we start by putting the weapon down?”
“No, pretty boy! No way! This isn’t how this is going to work. You've done enough fucking talking to last you the rest of your goddamned life. There ain’t shit you can do now. No amount of words is going to get you out of this. You ruined my life. You think I give a shit what you have to say now?”
“You still don’t get it, Stevens. I didn’t ruin your life. You’re right that I turned you in. I told you that I would. But I also told you that you had a chance to get your life turned around. What happened to that, man? You could have changed everything for yourself.”
“Why, just because you told me to? You think you’re my fucking priest or something? I didn’t need you to tell me how to live my life. I just needed you to mind your own fucking business and let me tend to mine. We could have gotten along just fine if you could only have done that. But you couldn’t, could you? You had to stick your fucking nose in. What’s happening now? This is your fault.”
“You’re right,” I said.
“Excuse me?” Stevens shouted, tightening his grip around Jess’ throat so that she started to gag. “Can you say that a little louder? I don’t think I quite caught that!”
“I said you’re right, okay? You’re right. It’s my fault and mine alone. It’s not hers, okay? Jess has nothing to do with it. She didn’t ever do anything to you, did she? She was never anything but kind, right?”
"I don't give a shit what she was. Casualty of war and all of that. You ruined my life, and now I'm going to ruin yours."
Fred’s hand pulled the sharpened pencil closer to Jess’s throat. She gasped as she felt it dig into her flesh. My stomach churned with bile at the sight of her. I had to do something to save her. No matter what it took.