The Spiral Down (The Fall Up #2)(8)

My hands trembled as I lifted a bloody mary to my lips. I didn’t give a single damn that it wasn’t even seven in the morning yet. We’d been alerted at five that my plane wasn’t going anywhere. Carter had assured me that I had nothing to worry about. I’d assumed he had secured another plane. I’d just never considered he hated me enough to make it a commercial flight.

Not only had the paparazzi and fans stormed me the second I’d exited the limo, but I’d had to fight my way through security and a never-ending terminal in order to voluntarily buckle myself into a flying metal coffin. Then, to top it all off, they didn’t have gin and tonic.

If that wasn’t a sign of impending doom, I wasn’t sure what was.

“I can’t do this,” I said, yanking my seat belt off and fighting to my feet.

His heavy hand landed on my back, forcing me back into my seat and then shoving me down so my head rested on my knees.

“Deep breath. You’re gonna be fine.”

“A fiery death is rarely considered fine,” I choked out.

“Just breathe.”

“I can’t’!” I struggled against Carter’s pressure on my back, knocking my drink from the cup holder and into his lap.

“Son of a…” he seethed. “Relax.”

“Let’s rent a car, ” I argued as I broke into a full-body sweat.

“Robin has a ten-thousand-dollar purse and hasn’t been seen or heard from since yesterday. You have a sold-out venue to be at tomorrow, and unless you’ve unlocked the magic of adding hours into a day, we don’t have time to drive home. Now, you can get your ass off this plane and drive. But you will be doing it alone.”

I gritted my teeth.

The legs of a flight attendant appeared at Carter’s side. “I brought you some napkins, sir.” She paused. “Would…uh…Mr. Alexander like another bloody mary?”

“You happen to have anything a little stronger hidden back there? Maybe a fistful of Valium?” he asked, not a drip of humor in his voice.

“Don’t even think about it!” I spat at the floor.

Carter groaned. “Yes. He’d love another drink.”

“Of course.” She stalled for a minute as if she’d never seen a grown man in the middle of panic attack being physically restrained by his bodyguard before.

Fucking amateur.

“How’s it going?” a man in a pair of jeans asked as his legs stopped at our row.

“Just another day on the job.” Carter’s hand squeezed my back as he started chuckling.

“And I thought my job was fun.” The deep, masculine voice laughed.

And, quite honestly, it pissed me off. “Move the f*ck along,” I bit out.

They both ignored me.

“Glad they were able to get you on a flight.”

“Yeah. We’re back in coach. He gonna be okay?”

“I guess…” Carter started when a loud boom made me jump.

Sitting straight up, I yelled, “What the f*ck was that?” My voice echoed off the overhead bins in first class.

“Luggage hatch closing,” the guy answered immediately.

I peered nervously out my window. “How can you be sure it wasn’t the wing falling off?”

He barked a laugh, but I didn’t spare him a glance.

“In my experience, wings don’t just randomly fall off. Especially not while sitting at the gate.”

“Right,” I whispered, smashing my cheek against the window, searching for the wing anyway.

“Well, I’m gonna go sit down. Have a good flight.”

Carter harrumphed. “Not likely. But I’ll try.

The guy’s laugh disappeared as the flight attendant reappeared with my drink. I hastily chugged it down.

She hadn’t walked away when another loud bang sounded.

“What the f*ck are they doing out there? Strapping explosives on the wings?”

“Jesus Christ!” Carter hissed. “Can you go ahead and bring another?” he asked. “Hold the tomato juice.”

“Is he going to be okay?” she whispered as if I hadn’t been sitting inches away.

“Why does everyone keep asking that? Do I look like I’m going to be okay? No! I am absolutely not going to be okay. But guess what? I’ll be a hell of a lot closer to okay if you’d hurry up with that drink.”

I’d barely finished my rant before my drink was gone from my hand and Carter was shoving my face back down to my knees.

“He’ll be great. I promise.”

“Grrrrrrrreat!” I told my legs with a manic laugh.

“Would you f*cking stop?” he snarled in my ear. “I swear to God, if you get us kicked off this flight, I will kill you. We have to get home. Take a deep breath, grab your f*cking balls, and act like a man. It’s a flight. Not a death march.”

Another loud bang made me flinch.

“What the hell was that?”

He sighed. “Man. Up.”

“I’d like to meet the pilot before we take off. Get his credentials and all. Maybe he’s willing to take a bribe.”

“A bribe? Henry, if the plane crashes, he’s going to be dead too. I’m pretty sure survival is more than enough incentive for him.”