Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 141634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 708(@200wpm)___ 567(@250wpm)___ 472(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 708(@200wpm)___ 567(@250wpm)___ 472(@300wpm)
A soft feminine voice pipes up from beside him, but I can’t hear what she says. The cabin is noisy, and there are people talking in the row behind me. I think back to when I got on the plane. The cabin was almost empty at the time. Frost and I arrived early and were able to get on first.
“Oh come on, don’t be like that,” I hear the man say, and his voice is a bit louder. “I’m just making conversation.”
I can see a small crack between the seats, and the man leans over to where the woman is in the window seat. He’s bald on top with gray fluffy hair on either side, and his face is red like he drinks more than just before he gets on a plane.
The hair on the back of my neck stands up, and I reach back and rub it. I don’t like the feeling in my stomach, and as if Frost can sense it, he nudges me with his elbow.
“You okay?” he asks, his accent thick.
“Da,” I answer as I try to shake it off.
The woman speaks, and this time it’s loud enough for me to hear her. “Sir, please, you need to back away and give me some space.”
“You bitches are all the same. Showing it off and then getting pissed when a man looks at it.”
I’m unbuckling my seatbelt before he’s finished speaking, but Frost grabs my arm.
“Be calm,” he warns, and I yank out of his hold.
He knows I have a temper, because his is as bad as mine. Growing up, we saw our fair share of our father putting hands on our mother until we were old enough to stop it. But even after we put an end to it, she was still just as cruel to us as before. I think she resented the fact that we were able to walk away from him and she chose to stay.
When I hear a man speak like this asshole in front of me, I have flashbacks, and it sends me into a rage.
“Sir, you’ll need to take your seat while the captain has the light on,” the flight attendant says from behind me.
“I’m about to,” I tell her as I step forward and look down at the small drunk man. “You’re in my seat.”
It takes him a second to look all the way and find my eyes scowling back at him. “W-what?” He smiles like I’m joking and looks around. “This is my seat.”
“No, you are in my seat,” I repeat, and now his smile drops.
“I have my ticket—”
I lean down so that he can get the measure of me properly. “I don’t give a fuck what your ticket says, you cunt, you’re going to get up and move.” I clench my jaw and then relax it. “Or I will remove you.”
He swallows hard as I straighten and pauses only a second before unbuckling his seatbelt.
I look at the flight attendant standing in the aisle, and she watches silently as the man stands up and moves out of my way.
“Sit.” Frost points to the empty seat beside him, and the little man follows directions like a child.
I nod to my brother, and he nods to me as I unbutton the front of my jacket and take the seat that the drunk vacated. The flight attendant moves past us and to the cabin without a word, and I take a deep breath to settle my anger.
“Thank you,” I hear whispered softly from beside me, and for the first time I glance over to the woman he was bothering.
My mouth opens as I’m stunned silent by her beauty. Her dark hair is curly and long around her face like a waterfall. It looks soft, like it would feel good to bury my face in it. Her eyes are ice blue like the waters in Russia, and they make me homesick for a place I’ve never been.
“Da,” I say, because it’s all I can manage. Her full lips curve on one side, and she looks away. I want to call her name so she will look at me again and I can get lost in whatever that feeling was.
I clear my throat as I look away, trying to gather my thoughts. I glance back at my brother, who is watching me with his eyebrows pulled together in concentration.
“It’s no problem,” I say, looking down at her arm resting between us. It’s so small and her skin is so fair, I want to touch it and see if it’s warm.
She leans a little closer to me like she’s going to say something, and on instinct I lean in closer to her at the same time. “I think maybe he’s just really drunk.”
“I think maybe he’s just an asshole,” I respond, and she covers her mouth with her hand to smother the laughter that bubbles up.