Crushed (erotic) (#3, 101 Nights)

Chapter Eight: Elijah

“Coffee, Mr. Micah?” One of the stewardesses knocks and brings out a tray of tapa-sized breakfast pastries and coffee.

“Leave the pot,” I tell her.

She sets the tray on the table between us, securing it, before she leaves to the lounge area at the front of the jet.

I prep my coffee then sip, leaning my head back.

George is quiet. He knows I’ll talk if I feel like it. There’s nothing like sitting in the quiet with a friend like him, someone who is more of a brother than any family member has ever been.

The jet’s engines turn on, a quiet buzz. It usually knocks me out, once we’re in the air. We taxi down the runway.

George and I go to the chairs near the window and strap ourselves in, preparing for takeoff. Minutes later, we’re in the sky, soaring above New York on our way to Ohio.

When the jet has finished ascending, we both leave our seats for those in front of the television.

“Decoys noticed by the press?” I ask.

“Indeed. No one knows which to follow, as usual. This jet came here solely to refuel, according to flight plans.” George reaches down for his briefcase and opens it, retrieving a portfolio. “New identities for both of them.”

I accept the folder he holds out and open it. The first set of new IDs, passport and other official documents – such as school records and immunizations – generated in the new name is for a teenage girl named Tanya.

“Wow. Is Layla really thirteen?” I ask. The File, as we call it, consists of my biggest secret, one I’ve spent tens of millions to protect. My sister, Layla, didn’t die in the car accident with our mother five years ago. I’ve been sheltering her from my father and his people after the assassination attempt that claimed our mother’s life.

If he found out, I’d be disinherited in a flash. Worse, she’d be compelled home, voluntarily or not, and there’d be nothing I could do to keep her from going through what I did as a child.

Natalie sees the good in me. I know how wrong she is. I’ve done one thing in my life that was worthy: protect my sister. The second will be when I free my farasha from my fucked up world.

“She’ll be fourteen in a month,” George replies. “She sent a message for you, too.”

I already know I don’t want to hear it. Since she became old enough to understand what was going on every time she switched schools, Layla has been asking too many questions and complaining about the moves.

“She doesn’t want to leave this school, and she’s furious you haven’t visited in four years,” George continues with a smile. “She’s got the Micah family temper.”

“It’s for her own good,” I say dismissively.

“She’s old enough to know the truth.”

I glance at him. It’s not his words that I hear, but those from Natalie, when she was telling me how selfish I am and how I need to respect those close to me. My attention goes to the picture of the thirteen year old, and I pick up her passport, studying the photo.

By the time I was thirteen, I was on my way to becoming the twisted monster I am. This girl is smiling in the profile pic attached to the file folder. She’s got the Micah family eyes, black hair, and pale skin. She’s turning into a beautiful girl, one who’s never known how disgusting our family history is, one who forgot exactly who she is after a car accident five years ago left her crippled, without any memory.