Page 89 of Collateral Claim
It’s odd that he’s giving me such advice. I frown. “I’ve already made arrangements.”
“You should change them. Don’t tell anyone about them and just disappear one day. You can write me a thank-you letter later.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Because I said so.”
Dark eyes watch me over his teacup. There’s something eerily genuine about the way Endo is addressing me now. But I hate how he doesn’t feel the need to explain himself. It’s like he’s parenting me.
“When you order me like that,” I say, “my instinct is to do just the opposite.”
“Because you don’t trust my advice. In this case, you should.”
“Do you know something I don’t?”
“Mmhm.”
“What?”
“You’re not as free as you think you are.”
Chapter 36
Tomorrow comes
Scarlett
I’ve never been to Selnoa, but people who’ve visited tend to praise the city for its great vibes. I’m staying only for an afternoon, so I won’t see any of the city’s major attractions.
From the tiny oval window of the airplane, I keep my eye out for Rount Maletia, the historic landmark that is said to rise above the rest of the buildings like a majestic queen, a proud architectural achievement of humanity. First, we fly over lush rolling hills, then the city with its organized chaos of homes and buildings, and finally, the Mediterranean, my favorite sea in the world.
Sadly, I didn’t catch the landmark.
When we touch down, my stomach settles with the knowledge that at this time tomorrow, I’ll be home.
From the seat across, Endo watches me.
This time tomorrow, there will be no Endo.
The hollowness in my chest tells me I might miss him. Probably in the way a captive misses the man who brought herfood. The handler who took care of her. And sometimes kissed her between her legs.
My gaze finds his lips, and he licks them.
“Do you want a parting gift?” The way he looks at me tells me what kind of gift he has in mind. He’s taking off my clothes without touching me. Lust does that. It’s why it’s one of the deadly sins most people can’t resist. It masks itself as desire, longing, love, even.
I recognize it for what it is and glance at the bathroom. If you can’t join the Mile High Club, what’s the next best thing? Probably not “the bathroom on the runway” club. Maybe that’s why I want to join it. It’s lonely.
The plane makes a full stop. The three people sitting on the couch stand up, prepared to disembark. I remain in my seat.
Endo lifts an eyebrow.
I lift mine.
“Wha…” Slada starts, but cuts off the question. She either got the idea or the cabin vibes are enough of a clue. Either way, his people vacate, and the moment the cabin door closes, Endo drops all the window blinds.
Once done, he captures my face and tilts it up, crushes his mouth over mine, and forces my jaw to open by depressing it with his thumbs on either side of my face. I’ve never been kissed this way. So forcefully, lustfully. It’s as if he wants to steal my breath away.
He succeeds.
