Page 52 of Ruined Beauty

We get back into the chopper a couple of minutes later. She’s not saying anything. She keeps looking at the ring and then back at me.

I leave her to think.

This is happening whether she wants it to or not, so she better get used to it. I did what she wanted. I proposed. Now we can get married.

It’s not until the chopper is in the air that I notice something’s wrong. We’re high above the town, heading back toward the coast. “Going the wrong way,” I say.

The pilot doesn’t reply, just lifts the chopper higher and higher.

I should have known.

Something was niggling me when we first got on board, but I thought it was her. I thought my doubts about her were what was causing the tension inside me. It wasn’t her.

I look from her to the pilot and I notice what I should have noticed when we first climbed on board. It’s not my pilot.

It’s a man I’ve never seen before in my life.

Twenty-Three

Anna

* * *

Ican sense the tension when Marco turns to me. He’s stiffened in his seat, his spine straight, his hands turning into fists, pushing my fingers away from him. His shoulder is slightly in front of me, as if to protect me, though at this point I’ve no idea what from.

“Is there something wrong?” I ask him.

He doesn’t answer. He shakes his head slightly. He looks from me to the pilot who’s pulling out a gun.

“Open the door,” the pilot says, looking back at Marco.

“Who hired you?” Marco replies, not moving a muscle.

“Who do you think, genius?”

“How much is Piper paying you? I’ll double it to slice that fucker up with these blades.”

The pilot laughs. “Yeah, and when word gets out that I welshed on a contract, I’ll never get another gig.”

“This is your last job either way. Take my offer and you get to live.”

The pilot lifts the gun up slightly. “What makes you say that?”

“Instinct.”

“Enough bullshit. Get the door open.”

Marco disengages the secure handles that keep the door tightly shut. He slides it along its runners, the air roaring in from outside, sending my hair whipping around the mic of my headset.

“Now get out,” the pilot says, the sound of his voice clear through our earpieces.

“I’ll kill you for this,” Marco replies. “You sure you want it to go this way?”

“I’ve got the gun, Marco. You’ve got a few hundred feet before you hit the ground. Plenty of time to reflect on why you didn’t agree to his deal.”

“Kids,” Marco replies. “Women and kids as slaves in his factories. You onboard with that?”

“Not my kids. Why should I give a shit? You’ve got three seconds before I shoot you.”

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