Page 54 of Mile High Ruin

I smell the alcohol when he comes closer. Whiskey, sour and unmistakable, layered over stale coffee and the rancid warmth of his breath.

My stomach tightens. “You should be in the cockpit.”

His mouth curves. “I told you we’d finish our conversation later.”

Every part of me becomes alert. I reach for the harness release.

His gaze drops to my hand. “No need to get up.”

“I disagree.” I press the release, and the buckle clicks open. I’ve barely started to rise when he reaches me and catches my wrist. The movement is so abrupt that for a moment I simply stare at his hand around me. “Let go.”

He smiles as though I’ve said something cute. “Relax.”

“Hale, let go of my arm.”

Instead of releasing me, he steps closer until his body blocks the narrow space in front of the seat.

I pull against his grip. He tightens it.

“What the hell are you doing?” I say.

“Nothing you weren’t happy to do a few hours ago.”

For half a second, I don’t understand what he means.

Then his gaze flicks toward the rear cabin. Toward Vadim.

Revulsion rolls through me. “You need to move.”

“Oh, come on.”

His free hand lands on my thigh, and I jerk so hard against the seat that the harness strap catches beneath my elbow.

“Get your hand off me.”

His fingers squeeze. “You weren’t acting this precious with him.”

I feel something cold settle in my stomach. “Hale.”

He leans closer, his breath washing over my face. “If you can give it to that old man, why not me?”

I stare at him. The sheer ugliness of the words leaves me speechless for one beat too long.

That’s all the opening he needs.

His hand moves higher.

I shove at his chest with my free hand. “Get off me.”

He catches my jaw, fingers pressing painfully against my cheek, and forces my face back toward his. “Stop acting like you’re too good for everyone.”

I try to shout.

His palm clamps over my mouth.

I twist against him, but the seat traps my hips and his weight keeps me pinned back. The smell of alcohol fills my nose. My heart is hammering so hard that I can hear it, and when I try to draw breath, I get almost nothing through his hand.

I can’t scream.