Page 118 of Coup De Grâce
I cocked my head at him, refusing to toast to that.
“No? Ah, so you are on side of us all being friends.” He chuckled again. “Then perhaps you trust your friend to get you where you need to go.”
Against my better judgment, I lifted a shot glass and toasted, hoping I wasn’t making a big mistake. “To us all being friends.”
He clinked my glass and we both downed the contents. I was pretty sure mixing alcohol with my meds was not a good idea,but it wasn’t like I could deny the mad Russian when he was trying to help us.
“So, we save the world.” He pounded his fists on the table and shoved back from the table. “Good. We go.”
35
SCOTTIE
“Wouldyou get your feet off the controls?” I griped at Max.
The fucker was lounging back in the co-pilot’s seat, drinking directly from the bottle. Hell, I could smell the alcohol wafting off him from here. I wanted to pull that straw hat down on top of his head and slap that cigar out of his mouth. How the hell did Christa put up with him?
“Is there a reason you felt the need to bring the whole fucking bottle of scotch?”
He took a long swig, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Yes.”
“And that would be?”
“I didn’t want to vomit on the flight,” he shrugged. “See, you may not have a problem vomiting mid-air, but I most definitely do. I prefer to be drunk over a complete fucking wreck.”
I rolled my eyes, checking my controls one last time. We were sitting ducks out here at the Ass End of Nowhere, Russia. But we couldn’t leave until Cash got his ass over here and we flew him home. The whole plan depended on him being in the United States when everything went down. Otherwise, it wasn’t a sure thing that we would clear his name.
And even then, there was a possibility he could get thrown in Guantanamo Bay.
“Put out the cigar,” I snapped, my anger rising by the second. I wasn’t sure what was getting to me more, but the whole persona he had going on really grated on my nerves. Just once, I wanted things to go smoothly, and it felt like a fucking omen, having him on this trip with all that alcohol.
“Geez, you are so cranky today. You know what you need?”
“For you to get the fuck off this plane.”
“I was thinking more along the lines of a good lay or?—”
“Do not finish that sentence.”
“Like I said. Uptight. You know, you never used to be this way.” He tipped his hat back, showing me his eyes. “When I first arrived, I’d say you were a lot more loose. What the fuck happened?”
I slowly turned my gaze toward him, shooting daggers with my eyes. “Do you really need to ask that?”
His blunt nails scratched his beard slowly. “Well, I’m thinking that’s a yes since I asked.”
Fucking unbelievable. “Our boss is on the run, we’re in fucking Russia, my co-pilot is drunk off his ass…Do I really need to say more?”
He shrugged noncommittally.
I scoffed, turning my attention back to the runway. And thankfully, our package had arrived. With this trip, I was lucky enough to have a bigger plane, which meant a door between the cockpit and the back of the plane.
No more distractions. No risk of anyone coming up here and touching buttons or pulling levers. I would finally be free to shut out the world and do things the way they should be done.
Well, if only I had a real co-pilot.
“They’re here,” I snapped, grabbing his attention momentarily.
He tipped his hat up again, peeking out the window. “So they are.”
