C E N T R A L C E E || 18+

Chapter Twelve

"Finally," she mumbled, picking up her purse that had fallen on the ground earlier.

"Get into the plane. All of you. Now," Alejandro yelled, not even looking at us. Casey flipped her hair over and walked up the stairs to the jet like she was told, but I wasn't going anywhere until Selina was safe in my arms.

"Selina," he shouted. But she was unable to move.

"Don't shout at her," I furiously hissed, taking steps closer to him. Yes, he had lent us his plane and helped us save Selina but that didn't mean that I felt any kind of sympathy towards him. He was in love with Selina, and I was mad that I didn't know what had happened between the two of them. It was driving me crazy, and hell I wanted to punish this man for everything he felt for Selina.

But Selina was already shocked enough by the dead bodies and the fact that I had caused one of them. I had tried everything to not show her this side of me, in order to not scare her off, but that was until I had to protect her. It was a big realisation that I would kill for her, but she had to get over it. This was me, the real me.

I tried to get closer to her, but she stopped me by putting her hand right in front of her. Martina was still on her knees besides her and if Selina didn't get back to her normal state, Martina could attack her.

"Kill her before she does something," I shouted over to Alejandro, but there was no reaction. Though I had my own gun, I wanted to wait for Alejandro to make his decision. But before I could repeat myself, the very thing that I had feared happened. Martina quickly got up and threw her hands on the gun. Shit.

If anything happened to Selina because of him and his crazy girlfriend, I wouldn't mind killing both of them in the most cruel and merciless ways. Until they would beg to die themselves.

I realised that there was no hope in waiting for him to shoot, so I lifted my gun again and pointed it straight at Martina. Kill her, the cruel voice in me said. But never had I ever killed a woman in my life. You need to save Selina, it kept talking. But before I could come to the conclusion that I needed to kill Martina in order to save Selina, I heard a gun shot.

I froze in my spot, not ready for what was coming next. Anger and fear creeped all over my skin, a cold shiver. I wanted to see that Selina was okay, so I stepped closer. First I walked, then I started to run. Both of the women were not moving, but it was impossible for me to see who got shot since they were practically glued to each other, until I parted them.

Both of them had blood on their clothes. I started to panic as my eyes searched for the source. First Martina, then Selina. But Martina was clean. She took a couple of steps away from the scene, the gun still in her hand. Shit. I couldn't even dare to look at Selina. She looked me in the eyes as a tear dropped down her cheek. When I looked down on the rest of her body, I saw a dark, almost black hole in her thigh.

"I'm alright," she hissed as she noticed the concern in my eyes. Though the bullet had only hit her thigh, the person who had caused would pay for it with their life. And luckily for me, she was standing just inches away from me. But that problem was to be solved later, now I had to take care of Selina.

"Fuck, Selina! You're not alright!" I shouted. I had never raised my voice at her before. The blood was hitting my brain and I was lucky if could get out of here without letting out my anger on her.

"Don't shout at me!" She shouted back. Meanwhile Alejandro grabbed Martina by her arm and dragged her away from us. But I didn't let him. I wanted to punish her myself.

"Where the hell are you going?" I yelled after them, not daring to let go of Selina, who was trying to steady herself in my arms.

"I'll deal with her," he said. I didn't resist on killing Martina myself, simply because I had my own girlfriend to take care of.

I carefully carried her up the jet. As soon as the cabin crew saw her injuries, they prepared a seat for her which I placed her on. They all knew first aid, obviously, so they knew what they were doing. But the fear didn't leave me, not until they told me that she was fine.

"So far, she's fine. We stopped the bleeding, but the bullet is still in her thigh plus we don't have the equipment. If she doesn't see a doctor soon, she might..." the flight attendant couldn't dare to finish her sentence.

"She might what?" I exhaled. My nostrils widened at the thought of losing Selina. And she wasn't even mine. Yet.

"She might die," another mal flight attendant finished his coworker's sentence in a cold tone. His words cut through the air between us. Die. A word I was used to hear way too much. Everything around me silenced. The screams of the cabin crew were just a background noise. I could only feel the vibration of the engine as the jet lifted itself from the ground.

"We're going to New York," Casey interrupted the torturing silence in my brain. I plopped myself next to Selina. She was still conscious, but she was still high from al the morphine the flight attendants gave her.

"We don't have that much time. She's staying with me. And so are you, until Selina is well again."

She opened her mouth to say something, but closed it again real quick. I could read from her face that she was as exhausted as me from all the arguing. With a deep sigh, she freed herself from the seat and furiously walked towards the cockpit. I didn't bother following her, though it was clear there was something she was up to. Selina was more important.

"You know," she giggled, her eyes half open. "When I called you my boyfriend down there... I didn't mean it."

She sounded very sincere for being so high on drugs. Very sincere. Two very dangerous feelings mixed together in my stomach- fear and hope. Fear that she might actually be honest and leave me as soon as we land and hope that she was saying this still in the effect of the morphine.

"Yeah, I know," I mumbled. "Let's not talk about this now, alright? Just go to sleep."

She let out another giggle until her eyes fully closed. She was sleeping like the first time I had put her to bed when she was heavily drunk. Like the first time we had slept in my bed after her nightmare. Like the first time I had woken up next to her after we had been together that night. God, what was she doing to me? Why did seeing her peacefully sleep bring peace to me, too?

I had made myself a mental note to watch over her the whole flight— just in case, but that didn't last long. I hadn't slept in a couple of days now and the silence and coziness of the plane tempted me to slowly close my eyes.

And so I did.