Recklessly Bound

Chapter Twenty One

Something closes near me from behind. A hand creeps around my waist. I turn around to see Ethan smiling tightly. He nods at Rachel before looking back at me.

"You wanna take a seat. We should get going." He gently guides me to the main seating area. Rachel steps aside and grabs my bag from my hand.

I sit in one of the huge beige chairs and watch as Ethan gets rid of his blazer and rolls his sleeves at forearm. Stop staring. I bite my lips and look away before he can catch me staring at him like a hungry hawk.

I close my eyes to collect myself but instead am greeted by memories of that night.

"Would you like a drink before we take off?" I hear Rachel's voice and open my eyes.

"Yes, please. Scotch for me, and..." Ethan looks at me,

"Orange juice would be nice."

"Coming right up." Rachel leaves to get our orders. Meanwhile, I hear the voice of the captain going over procedures and introducing himself.

I look over at Ethan who is busy looking outside. I want to tell him how sorry I am, but then again, none of this is my fault, for as much as he is making it look like it is. The night after they gave us this "gift" when we drove back in silence to our mansion, I went over many scenarios, something that would save us this time too. And every time I would come up short.

I can see how they would plan this. I would want my daughter or son to be happily married. In their eyes, we needed this vacation. They thought it was unfortunate that we couldn't make it the first time. It's not their fault either for wanting the best for their children.

As if sensing my gaze, Ethan turns and faces me. Instead of flinching away, I keep looking at him. I'm still mad at him. Scratch that. I am f*cking furious about how treated me that morning. After what shared. But part of me is still head over heels in love with him. And that part is about 99% of me.

Once Rachel comes back with our drink, I drain mine in a long gulp before getting relaxed in my chair. Gosh, this is way better than the economy class. Of course, Dad used airplanes a lot but he never got his own private jet because it was just too expensive for the company. The costs of maintaining and keeping it was not worth the hassle. I feel my lids getting heavy as I stare outside and as the lull of the airplane getting ready to take off starts. Somewhere in that moment, I fall asleep.

I feel two hands lifting me up. I sneak closer to the source of warmth. A few seconds later, the hands are no longer holding me as they put me down on the bed gently. Someone takes my shoes off and puts a silky thrown on me.

I moan as I turn. "Don't leave me," I murmur as I reach for the shadow. What is it that I can't reach it? I tried to run, but my legs wouldn't just work. I felt like falling. There is nothing beneath me. I'm going to die.

Then there it comes. The source of warmth. The shadow. I sneak up and nest my head closer. What is that familiar smell? After that, the nightmare of falling is replaced with a meadow of wildflowers.

"Evelyn, wake up," a masculine voice says above me. I feel a hand touching my hair. I stir, too lazy to open my eyes. My mouth feels dry and my stomach acidic. Probably because of the orange juice I had earlier with an empty stomach. "Lunch is ready."

That's when I start smelling airplane food. You know the smell of eggs and heated meat in the oven. I open my eyes finally only to welcome the sight of Ethan, who is sitting next to me on the edge of the bed. Well, that's a first for him. He usually rathers to be far away from me as possible. I sit up on the bed and find a huge tray filled with packaged food, steam coming off from one of them.