Page 16 of Property of Fox

“Also, correct.”

“Fan-fucking-tastic,” I groan, rolling my eyes. “Can’t a guy just flirt with a pretty girl without getting handcuffed by the sky police?”

“According to her, you were groping her thigh.”

“Groping? No. My hand brushed her thigh by accident.”

“She didn’t see it that way,” he declares. His voice a low rumble. “She said you were harassing her.

“The fuck I was,” I growl through gritted teeth.

“Lower your fucking tone,” he snarks back.

“I will when you get a clue. I’m sorry I flirted with your girl, but the last time I checked flirting didn’t warrant handcuffs.

“Harassment does. You’re being detained until this flight lands. Some of my friends will be waiting for you at the gate. They’re going to have a few questions.”

Well, shit. This was not how I pictured my time in Texas going, but if Eden wanted a show, she’s going to get one. Just not the kind of show she will be expecting.

“Show me your hands.”

I comply, and he slaps the cuffs on me like a seasoned pro.

“You handcuff people often?”

“More than I’d like,” he admits. “Now, be good and sit here with your mouth shut and your hands and eyes off my girl. If you can do that, I might ask my friends to go easy on you and just put you on the no-fly list.”

He glares at me one more time before going back to his seat. Every set of eyes around are on me the rest of the flight. When the plane finally touches down, Hallie and Az stir awake. His gaze shifts to my handcuffs as he shakes his head.

“What the fuck did you do now?”

“What had happened was….”

“You know what,” he interrupts me, putting his hand up to stop me from talking. “I don’t want to know. You’re Eden’s problem now that we’re in Texas. Let her sort whatever mess you made for yourself.”

BREA

I driftin and out of a dream, the kind where you feel as if you’re a spectator in your own subconscious, whispering secrets I can’t quite grasp. The room is enveloped in darkness that feels heavy but safe. My heart beats slowly, lulled by the comfort of being away from Tank.

But it all shifts when a voice pierces through my slumber like a shard of glass. “Brea?” It calls again softly, more insistent this time.

“Are you alive in there?” Keira’s voice calls from the other side of the bedroom door.

Kiera's voice is bright yet layered with concern.

“I am now,” I mutter groggily forcing myself upright. I instantly reach for my phone but realize it’s long dead back in Indiana. The light spills in, golden and relentless. Jesus, what time is it for the sun to be that bright in the morning?

“Do I need to call in a welfare check?”

“I said I’m awake,” I grumble.

“And you’re grumpy,” Keira fires back at me. “I made lunch. Sounds like you need it, Hangry.”

I throw my legs from the bed and finally plant my feet on the floor, feeling the chill of the wood.

“Give me a second to feel human again,” I mumble, rubbing the sleep from my eyes as I shuffle toward the door.

“Take all the time you need!” she calls back, her words peppered with laughter.

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