Golden Burn (Songs of Crime #1)

21. Etta

21

Etta

‘I wish that I hated you’ - Ariana Grande

I t’s the middle of the night by the time we make it onto the tarmac, a slightly bigger jet than the one we’ve previously flown in waits for us with the crew positioned at the bottom of the stairs. Wind sweeps across my body, smelling of petrol and burnt rubber. I stick to my position at the back of the group. Ford and Odin take the lead, Dom and Martise stride next to me. I’m glad Martise is coming. Her presence soothes me in a way that I need at the moment. Odin’s mood reeks of fury and betrayal. I keep my distance so that he can cool down.

“Mr. Bolt and guests, thank you for flying with us,” the male flight attendant says, shaking Ford and Odin’s hand.

The inside of the plane is the same as all the others, but the aura is off. The last time I spent many hours in the air, I painted my face with makeup, plus Ford’s, and ultimately enjoyed myself—especially my standoff with Odin .

I don’t think that’s going to occur here.

Dom finds a seat, while Ford searches the plane, checking the cockpit, back bathroom and the hostess area. He returns, satisfied, though not completely relaxed. Martise takes a seat behind me and pulls out a neck pillow, an eye mask and a kindle from her giant handbag.

Odin comes up behind me and places a hand on my lower back. I jolt, resisting the urge to fall against it. “Sit next to me,” he says low into my ear. He isn’t asking, nor offering. He’s demanding.

I don’t disobey.

I put my seat belt on and curl my legs up into my chest. Odin sits next to me, controlled and large. He leaves his seat belt off and takes the glass of whiskey offered to him by the attendant. He passes me a bottle of water. I thank him and try not to remember the way we almost fucked before our tiny heated bubble was popped by a simple white letter.

The air is oppressive. Hard to digest. Like a person has pulled the pin on a grenade and held it up for all of us to see. It remains that way as the cabin crew gets ready for take-off.

None of us speak. Odin is frozen to his seat, having not even touched his drink, while Dom works frantically on his laptop and Ford watches everything happen with an intense gaze.

The plane takes off, jerky and hurried. It sends a bolt of worry through my chest. My mind is assaulted by imagined scenarios of our transport being shot down and all of us crashing into the ocean. Looking at the map of the flight path, it appears we’ll be flying over land for eight hours. Wonderful. Maybe if I’m still alive when the place descends and bursts apart into jagged pieces of metal, the animals will get a nice meal out of my flesh.

I’m sweating now, picking at my nails, stripping the flesh away via my teeth. Turbulence racks the plane and my hands fly down to grip onto the armrest. Odin shifts, moving his hand within reach. Our skin isn’t touching, but it might as well be.

I’m feeling raw. Exposed.

Ignoring the touch of his eye on my cheek, I stand and make my way to the bathroom. Inside, dizziness rushes up from my head to my toes. The last time I was this rattled, I had just been taken. Odin had shot my father and given me his back for so many hours. Dom and Ford had seemed closed off and scary. I had been a fish trapped in a bowl without any water.

Now, the same emotions are stirring to life, but for a significantly different reason.

I had only been thinking of myself during those initial hours after Ford and Dom had escorted me out of the clinic. Only my survival. My focus was singular, selfish. It had to be.

After several days of getting to know these men. Of being treated to the most amazing experiences and the most dejected ones, too, I can’t think knowing that they might get hurt. That they might be the ones in danger and not me.

If anything happened to Ford or Dom, or God forbid, even Odin—the one man who might deserve it the most—I don’t know how I’d handle it.

If I was the only one to walk off this plane. I would crumble.

There’s still so much I want to uncover. So many sides of Odin I want to lure out into the sunlight. The idea of that being taken away from me is horrible.

Shaking, I splash some water onto my face and take a few calming breaths. I need to stop thinking about things that haven’t occurred yet because, deep down, I trust them.

I… trust them. I really do.

They would never intentionally harm me, and they would never put me in harm’s way.

I repeat that realization over and over as I make my way to my seat. But when I try to sit, Odin’s hands come around my waist and pull me into his lap. I collapse with a tiny yelp, my hands flying to his chest.

He grips my chin with his warm fingers, leaning in close so he can murmur, “We are diving into the wolf’s den tomorrow. We need to practice.”

“Practice what?”

“Hating each other.”

It takes me several seconds to understand what he is saying. I try to turn my head to look at the hostess, but Odin holds me steady. “Bold of you to assume I need practice.”

His lips quirk a little, but I’m positive he doesn’t believe me. He doesn’t respond with words to my statement, nor does he ask me a question. The thumb on the hand around my waist moves an inch. Up and down. Quick and fleeting. Then again, a little longer, a little harder.

My breath turns heavy. My chest squeezes and squeezes.

I look deep into his eye, seeing what he can’t voice. What he doesn’t want to say lest it frighten me. “Okay,” I whisper and snap my chin out of his hold, looking disgusted by our closeness. It’s so much harder than I thought.

There’s nothing disgusting about how strong he feels, how pleasant. My ass fits snugly into the crock of his hip. His abdomen is rippled and tight against my ribs. His breath is minty, and his lips are so sexy I’m trying very hard not to imagine us kissing. Again.

Odin eases me back into my acting role. “Pass me my drink.”

Seething, I lean forward to grab the whiskey glass. Ford locks eyes with me from across the plane. Knowing he is alone at the current moment—the attendant out of sight—he sends me a quick wink and looks away again.

We keep up our silent ruse. I cross my arms and sit as stiff as I can, making it clear that I am not comfortable being so close to him. But it only lasts so long. As the interior lights go out in replace of tiny glowing dots on the roof that look like stars, exhaustion takes over.

I sag into Odin’s body, seeking his warmth, his comfort and protection. I have no idea how his thighs haven’t gone dead by now, but he doesn’t shift. I’m hyper aware of the fact my own thighs are near his middle. Dangerously close to an area of his that I wanted to explore so badly last night.

This would be such a perfect time to flirt, to flutter my eyelashes and place hot kisses along his neck. Tasting him for the first time.

Instead, his body heat and the rumbling of the plane engine are rocking me to sleep, ruining the act that I am supposed to be keeping up.

Making sure we aren’t being watched, I turn my head till my lips are near his cheek. “I’m tired.”

God, it feels so good to be with him like this. So fucking good .

I’ve been in fight and flight for so long, this moment to relax and let someone cradle me, protect me, is so infectious, so beautiful that I refuse to let it go.

We both have broken hearts, he and I. We both are searching for a way to curb loneliness. And I think we might have found comfort in each other. At least for this small amount of time, anyway.

His thumb moves, touching the space between the top of my jeans and the bottom of my shirt. I have to catch a moan behind my teeth. “You’re doing so well,” Odin says. Straightening, I try to put energy into my system. Try to push oxygen around my blood in the hopes it will force my body to respond. It’s useless. Especially since Odin keeps running his thumb in one tiny spot that might as be my very soul.

My eyelids drift close, my heart rate slows. If I could just put my head into the crook of his neck, I would sleep peacefully. Perfectly.

An unknown amount of time passes when I hear my name. The voice that speaks is warm and rich and familiar. Closer, a little louder, it comes again. This time I hear my name despite another word being said. “Sweetheart, wake up.” Groaning, I open my eyes and awareness creeps in. A hand clasps my neck, sure and gentle. My legs are bent along a set of hard thighs. The plane is dark, a cave where we can hide.

“What’s wrong?” I mumble, my heartbeat skipping.

“Nothing,” Odin reassures me with his husky voice. “You’re safe.” You’re safe with me , he leaves unsaid.

He shifts so that I’m sitting up a bit higher. “We need to keep it up. This ruse.”

We?

I blink at him, willing clarity into my fog filled brain. Trying another route, he holds my gaze and says, “In a couple of days, you’ll be mine. And I need you to hate me throughout it all.”

That word echoes. Mine .

I come back to reality with staggering speed, my heart spasms into existence. No longer slow, but pumping frantically.

Taking control of my body, Odin lifts me easily into his arms and maneuvers till I’m sitting on the seat next to him. Alone and cold.

While I shift around trying to find a comfortable position with only my jumper to keep me warm, he drapes my lower legs over his lap and reaches for my feet. He removes my sandals and begins to rub his thumbs up my soles. His touch sends an electrified thrill up my calves and I’m finding it impossible to relax.

He reaches for his glass of whiskey and takes a sip. At the same time, his free hand crawls further up my legs and he continues his blissful assault on my skin.

He massages the back of my ankles, my calves, the bottom of my thighs. I flinch as his fingers drift over my inner thigh. I’m not in the mood to be teased.

He must sense my sudden discomfort because he returns my legs to my seat and leaves me be. No longer being touched, no longer being cared for, I let the sound of the plane’s engine fill my ears and my eyes close after several long minutes.

The long flight unfolds without my knowledge.

I’m lost to the world, having been transported into a new dreamscape. A place where Odin is my hero and we both travel the world playing spies and searching for lost treasures.

And most importantly: he’s mine as much as I am his.