Page 199 of His To Erase
“You’ll see.”
Classic. Totally not suspicious at all. When we pull through the gate and the sleek black car starts winding around the perimeter of a private airfield, everything hits me all at once. The hangar. The plane. The people waiting near the tarmac.
“What the hell,” I mutter, sitting up straighter, and feeling light headed. “Frank… is that?—”
He parks, cutting the engine, and glances over at me with a smile so smooth it could be carved from glass.
“I told you, baby girl, I was taking you somewhere nice.”
I stare at the jet in disbelief. “For Dinner?”
His grin widens. “You deserve more than Taco Bell, Ani.”
This is too much. Or he’s justthatguy that does this kind of shit last minute.
The tarmac heat bites through the afternoon breeze as we approach the jet. It’s sleek—matte gray with tinted windows and two uniformed staff waiting by the steps. Frank nods at them like this is normal, not a fucking private plane dinner run.
“This is insane,” I mutter, squinting toward the sky. My voice sounds far away.
Frank’s hand grazes the small of my back as we climb the stairs, warm and steady—staying there longer than it should. I should pull away, but I don’t. I lean into it, only because I’m so exhausted and this is somehow taking all the energy I have. Which should be my first red flag.
“Insane would’ve been taking you to Applebee’s,” he replies with a smile. “Come on.”
Something about all of this feels like a set up, with wine and roses and leather-bound menus. I tell myself not to make it athing. Not to panic. But the longer I stand there, the more I feel like I’m walking into something I won’t know how to get out of. I need to just tell him the truth. I don’t need to tell him about Steven by any means, but I need to come clean that we won’t ever be more than friends.
I step onto the plane, and the interior is ridiculous—cream leather, glass dividers, and there’s actual art hanging inside a plane. There’s also a table set for two near the back, and a bottle of champagne already chilling in a silver bucket.
“Get comfortable,” Frank says, loosening the cuffs of his shirt before rolling them up. “We’ll be in Taos in under an hour.”
Taos?
Jesus.He’s flying me across state lines for dinner?
I settle into the plush seat near the window, forcing a neutral expression onto my face while my heartrate kicks up a notch. I take a sip of water, glancing out the window. Trying to focus on the ridiculousness of it all just long enough to distract myself from the obvious.
When the flight attendant passes by, brushing past with a tray of citrus-scented cloths and warm towels— it hits me like a punch to the sternum.
What is that smell?
My hands start to shake, so I press them to my thighs. My body lurches before my mind catches up.
“Are you alright?” Frank asks, appearing beside me with a glass in hand.
I nod too quickly. “Just motion sickness.” I lie.
His eyes narrow slightly, but he doesn’t push. He sets the glass down and adjusts the air vent above my head like he’s the fucking doting boyfriend.
“We’ll be there soon,” he says, smoothing a hand along the top of my thigh. “And I promise—this place is worth it.”
I force a smile, but my throat is closing, because for the first time in days, something broke through. Not just a flash or a whisper—but a feeling. A place.
And I don’t know what scares me more—what I almost remembered…Or the man currently holding my knee like I’m his.
The windows reflect nothing but my own confused face, I have no memory of falling asleep again. No idea how long I’ve been out.
My phone vibrates—another call from an unknown number. I decline it without thinking, too tired to deal with one more goddamn thing.
A second later, it dings. Then again. And again. Three texts.
