D-DAY.
So much for no unnecessary risks.
A violent storm greeted me near the end of my flight home. I sat at a table, drafting what I planned on saying to Octi.
The cabin jostled back and forth, knocking my drink onto my notepad. Iced tea, not scotch. I needed to be sober for this.
The words on the page grew before they blurred together.
Lovely.
Not like it mattered.
I’d gotten approximately three words written down, stuck on how to convince Farrow to spend the rest of her life with me.
“Mr. Sun?” The flight attendant approached, clinging on to the edge of the table for support. “We’re flying through severe turbulence. The captain has advised you to put on your seatbelt.”
“Is it safe to fly?”
“I’m sure it is.”
“Yes or no answers only.”
She fidgeted with her pencil skirt, eyeing the cockpit. “I’ll bring back the co-pilot. Just a moment.”
As she scurried away, I returned to the bigger problem at hand. I had no experience with people, let alone relationships.
Romeo’s forced marriage with Dallas could hardly be considered the pinnacle of romance.
As for Ollie, his only commitment to date was with his right hand. (And even that could be considered dubious, given the entire wing in his mansion dedicated to sex toys.)
“Mr. Sun?” The co-pilot claimed the seat across from me, propping his tablet up on the stand. “A sudden storm hit our path. We’re above Delaware right now.” He pointed to a speck on the map. “We may have to travel around the storm and circle in the air until it’s safe to land.”
I checked my watch. “Will it add time to the flight?”
“Maybe an hour to travel around the storm. No ETA on how long we’ll be circling until visibility thresholds are met and we can land.” He zoomed out on the map. “As is, we’re a little over thirty minutes until landing. We have enough fuel to hold for ten hours if needed.”
I couldn’t even afford a minute.
According to Romeo, Farrow would be at a fencing competition in a couple hours. I planned on watching the entire thing with her after convincing her to marry me.
I held his gaze, tossing my ruined notepad to the side. “We’ll keep on this path.”
“We can’t. Potomac Airfield contacted us. It’s not safe to land there. Or anywhere in the D.C. region, for that matter.”
“I need to be in Potomac. Now.”
“Our alternative choice is to land now in Delaware. It’s about a four-hour drive to Potomac, but there’s a storm here as well. The visibility is better but not great.”
“Is it safe to land?”
“Safe? Yes.” He slanted his head, shaking it a bit. “Comfortable? No.”
“Let’s do it.”
At least driving would guarantee I’d arrive before the event ended. I couldn’t take the risk of not making it at all.
The co-pilot still loitered.
“Why are you still here?” I arched a brow. “You have a plane to fly.”
Not well, apparently, because minutes later, it plummeted headfirst.
I swung forward, grunting as my stomach dug into the desk.
The flight attendant rushed to my side and double-checked my seatbelt, yanking hard on the loop. Another violent shake sent her flying into the chair across from me.
She dragged herself into a sitting position, fighting every cruel jolt.
“Keep your seatbelt on, Mr. Sun.”
No shit.
I flipped the window up, staring into the abyss. White confetti swept by in a blizzard of alabaster and gray.
Midway into our descent, the snow transformed into rain. Heavy drops smashed against the glass.
“Is it always like this?” The stewardess white-knuckled her armrest, dropping her head back. “I’m only three months into this job. This is my first storm.”
I ignored her, fighting to keep upright as the plane tossed us round and round like a blender. The co-pilot’s tablet tumbled from the table to the carpet, triggering its playlist. “I Want to Hold Your Hand” by The Beatles.
A vicious lurch slammed my head into the wall. The song switched. “Bookends” by Simon & Garfunkel.
The same song playing when Dad died.
Suddenly, I couldn’t hear my own thoughts.
Cars honking.
Rain pouring.
The sword and octopus on the window.
Another sharp jounce.
The pendant.
I flew up in my seat, landing back down with a thump.
Souls are priceless, Zach. Try to protect yours any way you can.
I tucked my chin into my chest, battling the turbulence. “I’m trying, Dad.”
One day, you’ll learn to appreciate beautiful things.
“I did, Dad. Her name is Farrow.”
More honks.
Star-crossed lovers.
A horn.
I’d finally learned to appreciate beautiful things, and I would die in the air before I ever got to see her again.
Dad’s wide eyes.
His torso colliding with mine.
Drip, drip, drip.
The plane dropped quick, slicing through rain.
You’re okay, Zachary. You’re fine.
“I’m not, Dad.” I dug my fingers into the handles, almost tearing them off with my nails. “We’re dropping too fast.”
The rake.
The blood.
The knife.
I didn’t want to remember any of this.
Dad’s lips moving.
His single tear.
His last words.
We slammed into the runway with a huge thunk. My hand flew off the rest, smacking into the window.
Rain shot from the sky like bullets. The plane slowed to a crawl, but I lowered my head to my knees, brows crushed together.
His last words, his last words, his last words.
“What are you saying, dammit?”
The flight attendant unbuckled, sprinting to me. She rested a hand on my back. “Are you okay, Mr. Sun?”
“No.”
I finally remembered Dad’s last words.
