The Princess (Filthy Trilogy 2)
“Harper.”
At Eric’s softly spoken prod I shake myself and refocus on him. “Yes?”
“I promise you, your mother is safe. If there’s a shift in where she settles in all of this, Adam and his men will be here to get her out.” And then as if he’s reiterating my earlier thoughts, he adds, “She wouldn’t leave if we asked. You know that.”
“Maybe if she hears what happened tonight, that’ll change.”
His hands come down on my arms, those blue eyes of his connecting with mine. “You can’t tell her. You don’t know how she’ll react or what danger she’ll put herself in. We need to stick to the plan. Let them get comfortable. Let them lead Walker Security to whatever is going on here. All that’s happening right now, is that we’re making sure whoever thinks we’re a problem, thinks we’re not anymore.”
“You mean whoever thinks I’m a problem.”
“We’re one, baby. They know that. I came here for you.”
But we’re not one or he wouldn’t have left. Only he didn’t leave, I remind myself. “You really think this is all Isaac?”
“He’s involved, but he’s not the mastermind.”
“The mastermind of what?”
“We don’t know yet, but we will.” There’s a knock on the window.
“We’re clear,” Eric says. “Let’s move.”
He opens the door and exits the SUV, cold air gushing in through the open vehicle. I resist the chill, but my realization that we couldn’t even afford the time for me to pack has me worried we might have been followed. A thought that has me quickly scooting across the seat to catch up with Eric. He’s waiting on me and all but pulls me out of the backseat, a hint of urgency radiating off of him as I settle onto the pavement, into a bright night illuminated by a full moon. I shiver in the cold gust of wind, glancing up as I do at a star shooting across the sky.
Eric pulls me close, under his arm, setting us in motion toward the plane, while his big body is a shelter against the wind; shelter that he doesn’t seem to need, considering like me, he has no coat, not even his suit jacket he left in the warehouse. We start walking toward the plane, and I quickly look for the star again. It’s gone, but I make a wish anyway: Please keep everyone safe and alive. It’s the only wish that matters. It’s the only wish I’d dare make. We cross the tarmac toward the plane and Eric halts us by the stairs where Adam awaits. “I’ll have internet access in the air. Update me.”
Adam gives a nod. “Our team will have support waiting for you when you land.”
Eric inclines his chin and refocuses on me. “Let’s get inside, baby.” He urges me up the narrow stairs and I start walking, eager to find shelter from the wind. I’m relieved when I fe
el Eric right at my back, a protector that I never expected him to be, and never would have asked him to be. A protector to my mother, who wasn’t kind to him. A protector to—
I stop at the top of the stairs and step into the plane, backing up to let Eric join me. “What about Gigi?”
His jaw sets hard. “What about her?”
“She and I—”
“Don’t finish any sentence that begins that way. Not with you and Gigi connected. I’m not in the mood.” He pulls me to him. “Walker’s watching everyone.” He turns me to the plane. “I need to talk to the pilot,” he says. “I’ll be right there. Go to the back of the plane.”
He releases me and I want to turn and press him about Gigi’s safety, to reason with him, but I think better of that idea, considering the topic. This is Gigi, after all, a woman who treated his mother like trash that dirtied up the family with him.
I start walking down the narrow path, eyeing the fancy plane with luxury cream-colored recliners and tables left and right without really seeing it. I’m focused on the engines firing up already, a sign we’re wasting no time getting into the air. A sign of urgency, of a sense of danger. This hastens my pace, all the way to the rear of the plane, to a set of recliner-style seats I assume will allow us to lay back and sleep, as if I could sleep right now. I claim one of them and sit down, shivering again and not from the chilly air coming out of the overhead vents. From the evil at play in this family, in my life. I hug myself, trembling in that kind of deep, soul-wrenching way that comes with a fever and illness, but isn’t this family just that? An illness? A sickness I can’t escape, but Eric had. Until I went and pulled him back into this.
Eric joins me almost immediately and he must notice me shivering because he pulls a blanket from an overhead bin. When I expect him to hand it to me, he doesn’t. He wraps it around me and goes down on the blue carpet beneath our feet, on a knee beside me, his hands on either side of the blanket.
“I shouldn’t have left you tonight,” he says, and I know he’s not talking about the plane. He’s talking about back at the office. He’s talking about our fight. “I didn’t leave, not for long. I went back for you and I’m here now, but I fucked up. I let Isaac get to me tonight.”
“What did he say to you?”
“He got in my head, sweetheart. It doesn’t matter what he said. I listened to him and I reacted rather than asking you questions first. And I regret it. If I hadn’t come back, I tell myself Adam was there and you would have been fine, but just thinking about what could have happened to you guts me.” His tone is guttural. He’s affected. He’s worried. I’m affected and worried. I have questions. I have fears, and not just about the attack, but the attack is what he’s brought to my mind. I’m suddenly back in the dark warehouse, firing that gun.
“Eric—” The plane starts to move.
“Buckle up,” he orders. “We’ll talk in the air. We’re flying through a storm the pilot hopes we’ll get past quickly.” He stands up and when he would move away, he leans down and brushes his mouth over my mouth and his lips are warm and wonderful. “No one is going to hurt you,” he promises. “I won’t let that happen. I got you now. You’re with me.” He releases me, and every warm spot he’s created goes cold as he moves to his seat next to me and across the tiny walkway.
I inhale and replay his words: When I think what could have happened to you. And: No one is going to hurt you.