Page 12 of Fated to Them

“That’s it, Addie. Breathe. You are fine.”

Eli’s husky voice next to my ear makes me relax slightly. His breath fanning my neck sends goosebumps all over my body. I move, taking the first step before finding my feet and continuing up the stairs, only stopping when I reach Cyrus, who is still on the steps.

Looking up at him, his hand moves to cup my cheek, his thumb brushing my cheekbone.

“You will be fine. If we crash, your death will be quick,” he says, and my heart starts pounding so hard I can feel it pulsating in my ears.

“You fucking jerk, Cyrus,” Eli snaps at him as I start panicking, trying to turn around and get back off.

Eli is blocking me as I smack into his chest, and I start panicking, tears flowing down my cheeks.

“Was that fucking necessary?” Eli snaps at Cyrus, whom I can hear laughing. Eli grabs me, not letting me past him, his hands rubbing my back.

“Let me off. I don’t want to go, I don’t want to go,” I shriek, panic taking over me, my breathing becoming faster and faster as my heart pumps erratically in my chest. My vision becomes tunneled as everything gets darker before I eventually faint, darkness taking over all my senses as I feel my body go limp in his arms and my eyes roll into the back of my head.

* * *

As I wake up, my limbs feel heavy. Extremely heavy. I can’t move them at all. My eyes snap open to see Eli sitting across from me, reading a newspaper. Calmly flicking through the pages, warmth seeps into me, and I feel a hand on my thigh under my skirt, my head resting against a firm chest. Cyrus’s manly scent fills my nostrils, and I become aware that I am sitting on his lap, his fingers drawing circles on the inside of my thigh.

My heart stops in panic as I try to move, only managing to wriggle slightly. I feel like my limbs have been weighed down, my mind foggy on the events leading to this yet also clear to my surroundings.

Eli’s eyes suddenly snap to me, and he puts down his newspaper, placing it beside him and leaning forward before Cyrus moves his hand, cupping my cheek as he makes me look up at him. His caramel-colored eyes are watching me as I find my voice.

“Why can’t I move?” I ask, my words slurred.

“Don’t freak out, but we have sedated you. You will get feeling back by the time we land,” he says, his thumb brushing my cheek.

My heart starts hammering in my chest at his words. Sedated me? My eyes dart to the circular band-aid on my hand.

“Calm down. We won’t hurt you, Addie. Just go back to sleep,” Eli says, looking at Cyrus.

“How is she awake already?” he questions, and I feel Cyrus shrug before Eli pulls a little red bag from underneath Cyrus’s seat.

He unzips it, and I notice more syringes filled with a clear liquid. My heart is pounding so hard I can feel it in my wrists and ankles pulsating underneath my skin, hear it in my ears. Who the fuck carries around sedatives besides serial killers and fucking lunatics?

“Please, don’t,” I cry, my lip quivering when I watch him pull one out. I feel a tear slip down my cheek. Never have I felt so vulnerable. They could literally do as they pleased with me, and I would be powerless to stop them.

Cyrus moves, my eyes snapping to him. He runs the pad of his thumb over my bottom lip, making my lips part.

“We didn’t do it to hurt you, just to stop you from panicking. If you calm down, we won’t have to,” he says, his breath fanning my lips.

His smell calms me slightly, and I feel my pulse start to slow, my eyes feeling heavy, but I refuse to let them close, scared they might inject me with whatever the hell they used to make me this way.

Eli places it back in the bag before zipping it up. I let out the breath I’ve been holding, relaxing against Cyrus. His hand is moving up and down my leg, and I feel goosebumps rise on my skin before his hand stops underneath my skirt at the apex of my legs, his fingertips resting on the lace of my panties. Eli gets up, walking somewhere behind me toward the back of the plane before returning with a bottle of water and a straw. He cracks the lid before placing the straw in and bringing it to my lips, and I take a sip, not realizing how dry my mouth is until the cool liquid quenches my thirst.

My lips part, and he pulls it away before putting it in a cup holder next to Cyrus. He shocks me when he leans down, kissing my forehead, making me furrow my brows. Why would he do that? Why do any of this?

“Why do you have sedatives?” I ask. Neither of them answers. Yet I watch as Eli’s eyes dart to Cyrus at my question.

“Go back to sleep,” Cyrus tells me, and I feel my fingers twitch, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Eli as he leans forward, his elbows braced on his knees as I start regaining some form of feeling back.

He sits back, and Cyrus suddenly gets up before handing me to Eli. He places my hand on his shoulder while my head rests on the other heavily. I move my fingers, yet my legs feel like dead weight. I brush my fingers together. The sensation feels weird, like when you get your mouth numbed before getting a tooth pulled. Eli kisses my fingers, and I hear a strange noise that reminds me of a growl, yet I can’t turn my head to see where it comes from. Eli’s face turns to look at me before his lips brush mine softly, his tongue tracing over my bottom lip before he presses his nose to my cheek, inhaling deeply.

“Why did you do that?” I ask, wondering why Eli is being affectionate, especially while his husband sits across from him in plain sight of us. Cyrus, too, is acting strange, touching me in a way no boss should when he had hold of me.

“Because you are ours,” Eli tells me like that was somehow supposed to make sense.

“That makes no sense. I am not anybody’s,” I tell him.