Page 16 of Inked Athena

Sam slows to a stop in the gravel parking lot and puts the Jeep into park. “We need to get to an airport with international clearance. We’re going to Europe, and we have to get there quickly.”

“No.” I watch his face, searching for some sign that this is a sick joke, but he’s as steely and surly as ever. I shake my head. “Nope. No way. Not gonna happen.”

For all I know, Grams is living on the streets. Hope could be dead in a ditch somewhere. As much as I hate admitting Sam’s right about anything, he nailed it—I got everyone into this mess. I can’t abandon them now.

He gets out of the car, slamming his door behind him hard enough to make the whole vehicle shake. I dig my nails into thesides of my seat as if that could stop him from simply picking me up and carrying me wherever he wants. Like onto a plane, apparently, and off to Europe and wherever the hell else he wants to cart me.

I want to trust Sam—since the very beginning, my instinct has been to trust him—but I have a feeling that if I get on that plane, there’s a chance I’ll never make it back home.

When the door wrenches open, his eyes burn with molten heat. “Do I need to get a leash and harness to drag you into that helicopter? Because I will, if that’s what it takes to keep you alive.”

Is that what he wants? To save my life?

The weight in my chest is rising, rising… right into my throat. “It seems the best way for me to stay alive is to stay far away from you,” I spit at him.

I’m hoping it’ll piss him off enough that he’ll change his mind and walk away, leave me here to fend for myself.

Then again, the thought of watching him walk away threatens to unleash another wave of tears.

I have no idea what he wants to do to me or with me, yet I can’t bear the idea of letting him go. What kind of masochistic madness is this?

Finally, Sam gets actually angry. I see it as red creeps up his neck, as the vein in his forehead pulses. His mouth presses into a flat line. “You may be right about that, but it’s too late now. If you want to stay alive, you have to come with me.”

“Sure,” I snort. “Sounds like exactly what a kidnapper would say. I’m supposed to give up my freedom and trust you.”

“I gave you fucking freedom, and look how you repaid me for it!”

“I told you what happened?—”

“Just like I’m telling you what’s happening now,” he snarls, voice dropping to a register that makes my bones vibrate. “You don’t believe that I’m trying to protect you, so why should I believe you?”

He shouldn’t—that’s the problem. I betrayed him, and he doesn’t believe me, so I can’t believe him. It’s a nasty cycle of distrust that I can’t seem to break.

Before I can explain this, he hoists me out of the car and into his arms yet again.

“Are you going to carry me like this all the way to Europe?”

“No, I’m going to carry you to Myles,” he snaps. “Because I know you won’t fucking believe me. Maybe he’ll have a better shot.”

“Myles is here?”

Samuil doesn’t respond, just scoops one of the duffle bags off the ground and slings it over his other shoulder without slowing. Dust plumes behind his every step as we cross the parking lot towards the warehouse where Myles is waiting in the doorway, a cautious smile on his face.

“Hey there, Nova.”

Samuil deposits me on a wooden crate next to the door and then stomps off back towards the car, both hands raking through his hair in frustration.

I watch him go. “I don’t care what he says—I’m not getting on that plane. I need to stay here.”

I’m expecting him to give me the same “you don’t have a choice” line as Samuil, but Myles just sighs and drops down on the crate beside me. “As long as you’re in the country, Ilya can track you.”

“I’d like to point out that I escaped him. All on my own. No help from anyone. And he still hasn’t tracked me down.”

“He very nearly did,” Myles says, voice heavy. “His team is tearing the cabin apart as we speak.”

A chill races down my spine. “That’s why we left so quickly?”

“You missed him by fifteen minutes. If that. Samuil saved your life.”

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