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The plane hits the runway gracefully and I wouldn’t expect anything less from Leon.
Harsh, morning sun streams through the window, making my bad decision look a whole lot worse.
The plane rolls to a stop, and a few moments later, the hydraulics hiss and the opening door lets in a wash of cold air.
The girl shivers and looks at me expectantly.
My words stick to my throat. “Here.” I take a wedge of cash from the duffel bag in the overhead locker and drop it on her lap. “This should get you on your feet again. I’ll get you a taxi to wherever you’re going.”
Her eyes follow me, unblinking as I rise to my feet and stretch.
“Thank you,” she murmurs, pinning me with her gaze.
“I told you—”
“I know,” she interrupts. I’m not used to being interrupted. “You didn’t save me. It was a favor; one I’ll have to return.” She swallows and her attention drops to my lips. “I’d be dead if it wasn’t for you. So, just tell me what I owe.”
Her velvet voice rings around my ears. Here’s where my vow comes in. The one about me not cashing in the favor and letting her walk out of my life, no questions asked.
But there’s a question brewing at the back of my throat. I clench my fists and grind on my molars. I don’t want the answer to it, because then I have something tangible to work with. A clue to find her.
My voice is strangled. “What’s your name?”
She opens her mouth and closes it again. Then after a beat, she says. “Dahlia. Dahlia Rose.”
The laugh that rips from my throat is bitter and it takes her by surprise.
“Of course it is,” I mutter, running a hand over my shaved head.
She raises her eyebrows. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Dahlia Rose. An entanglement of my two favorite flowers.
Instead, I rearrange my features, straighten my back and say, “Have a good life,Dahlia Rose.” I slip on my sunglasses and grab the duffel from the overhead locker and sling it over my shoulder. Then I rap twice on the cockpit door. “Leon, call Miss Dahlia Rose a taxi.”
“Wait!”
I’m halfway down the steps when her tiny figure appears in the doorway. I shouldn’t have stopped. I should have kept walking towards the Bentley waiting for me on the tarmac.
But I do. And I turn, and I meet her big, sea-glass eyes.
“You didn’t tell me what I owe you.”
Hot air hisses from my nostrils. Fists clench. Unclench.
“Forget about it.”
Dahlia
“Jesus Christ, you look like shit.”
Billie tucks the joint into the crook of her mouth and takes me in with wide, bloodshot eyes.
“I feel like it too. Are you going to make me stand on the doorstep forever or can I come in?”
She snaps herself out of her shock long enough to step out of the doorway and let me into our apartment. “So, what happened? You lost your key?”
I laugh. Not having my key is the least of my worries. “Yeah, something like that.”
