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“Go to the very back driver’s side,” I instruct her as I climb in behind her. She sits where I tell her to and then shrinks into herself. I sit down next to her, my large body crowding her small frame as I claim the spot next to her. Lee and Jay enter after, sitting in the two singular seats in front of us.
The driver gets back in the front seat. He presses play on the dashboard, resuming the nineties hip-hop playlist we were listening to on the way here.
“Can we go to a hotel?” Maya asks, looking at me with those beautiful brown eyes.
“Why?” I ask softly.
“I’m tired.”
“I know, baby. You can sleep right now.”
“I don’t like sleeping in cars.”
“Then you can sleep on the jet,” I say with an edge of finality in my tone. Turning away from me, she slumps deeper into her chair and lays her head against the window, wiping at her cheeks.
I don’t want her to cry, but she will learn very quickly that I’m not playing around this time.
She willnotleave me again.
CHAPTERTWELVE
MAYA
The drivefrom SIN to the airport takes around twenty minutes. I hate sleeping in cars, but I’ve had a long day—sleeping off a hangover takes a lot out of you—and can’t help when I pass out on Ezra’s shoulder. He certainly doesn’t mind that I’ve chosen to get closer to him.
The four of us exit the Escalade and head into the airport. It’s late, so there aren’t a whole lot of people around. We drive right on the tarmac and come to a stop by Ezra’s private plane.
Matte black, much like everything else he owns.
We walk up the steps into the jet. The black and gray interior is a familiar, and strangely comforting, sight. I used to fly with him all the time when we were together. I spent many nights sitting in a window seat with him right beside me, our fingers interlaced as we enjoyed the peaceful silence. The full-sized divan is already open and waiting for me. I make a beeline for it, but Ezra grabs my arm and pulls me back, pushing me towards a seat with a table pulled out.
“You need to eat,” he says as he pushes me to the window seat, and he traps me in by sitting next to me.
I rest my head on my fist and look out the window. “I already told you I’m not hungry.”
His large hand grips the hair at the back of my neck and yanks it, forcing me to meet his gaze. “And I told you that you’re not allowed to die.”
Tears burn my eyes, and just when I’m about to tell him to let me go, he does so on his own. Some of the star clips fall to the floor or get tangled in my curls. I rub at my scalp gently and turn my face away. I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry.
“Sir,” the pilot says as he walks over to where we’re sitting. I remember him. He was always so nice to me. “We’re ready for takeoff.”
“Thank you, Nathan.”
He nods, then looks at me and smiles warmly, the corners of his eyes crinkling with age. “It’s nice to see you’re back, Miss Johnson.”
I smile as he walks away, albeit a bit sadly.
I hadn’t noticed Lee and Man Bun sitting at the back of the jet whispering amongst themselves until I look up and see them staring at me.
“What’s with them?” I ask Ezra quietly.
He looks at me, then at them. “They’re unsure of you.”
I scoff. “They’reunsure ofme?I’ve only had one run-in with both of them; Lee saved me from a pervert, and Man Bun just stared at me like a weirdo.”
Ezra bites his lip, trying to keep from laughing. “‘Man Bun?’”
I nod, my cheeks heating up. “I don’t know his fucking name, Ezra.”
