Page 75 of Carnal Urges
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“You were upset that I was letting you go.”
“You’re high.”
“I must be if I’m coming after you again. Now get off that fucking plane before I lose my temper and do something I’ll regret.”
I stand there with my hands shaking, my knees quaking, and my heart beating outside my chest. I don’t know exactly if it’s anger, adrenaline, or a fucked-up kind of elation I’m feeling, but in any case, I’m definitely not in the mood to be bossed around.
So I say coldly and deliberately into the phone, “No.”
I hang up. Then I go to the window and flip him the bird.
I see the fury in his eyes all the way from where he’s standing. He’s got a red glow around his head.
I’m sure it matches mine.
I withdraw and start to pace angrily up and down the aisle, until Stavros emerges in a panic from the cockpit with a cell phone against his ear, blabbering frantically.
“No—she won’t—I can’t—she won’t listen tome! I don’t knowhowto open the door!”
Of course Declan would have Stavros’s cell phone number. Of course he would.
I say loudly, “He’s not going to shoot that thing. Hang up, and let’s get going.”
“I’m trying to save your life!”
Not this again.
I stride down the aisle to Stavros, snatch the phone from his hand, and put it to my ear. I snap, “Your deal with Stavi is off. He won’t be spying on anyone for you. And you’ll be keeping your word not to hurt him.”
Declan’s laugh is dark and perversely pleased. “I should’ve known you’d get him talking.”
“Yes, you should have. You continue to underestimate me.”
“A mistake I won’t repeat. Get off the plane. Now. Or my promise not to hurt your poor lapdog ‘Stavi’ expires.”
This time, he’s the one who hangs up.
I stand shaking in hot fury, debating with myself, and conclude there’s no way out of this. If I don’t do as he asks, I have no doubt he’ll hurt Stavros. Now that he knows Stavros isn’t the father of my nonexistent unborn baby, there’s no reason to keep him alive.
The son of a bitch has me checkmated.
I give Stavros back his phone and tell him to instruct the pilot to open the cabin door and lower the airstairs.
He’s horrified by the suggestion. “No! I can’t do that!”
“You can, and you will. I’m not asking.”
He gestures wildly toward the windows. “He’s an animal!”
“Yes, but a reasonable one. Do I look hurt to you?”
After a moment, he says reluctantly, “No.”
“That’s because I know how to handle him.”
He looks at me strangely. “I don’t think you do. I’ve never seen you like this.”
