Page 62 of Commit
“Breaking a promise,” she replies quietly, surprising me.
“You’re good at that.”
She drops the razor, and it lands near her feet, her eyes never leaving it. That’s when I notice the trail of blood running down the inside of her leg. I reach for it, but she backs away and climbs out, taking the towel from the hook and wrapping it around her like a shield.
“Did I hurt you?”
“Do you care?”
I don’t answer, and she doesn’t push. She walks back into the bedroom, pausing when she sees the clothes on the bed.
“Get dressed.”
She hesitates but doesn’t argue. She heads to the dresser, but I stop her.
“Everything you need is on the bed.”
She shakes me off and walks over to the bed, looking through the things I placed there.
“There’s no underwear.”
“Like I said, everything you need is there. Hurry up and get dressed. We have somewhere to be.”
She pulls the dress over her head and eases it down to cover herself before she tugs the towel free and drops it on the floor. I watch as she ties the laces that crisscross her chest and slips her feet into her shoes. Grabbing the jacket, she drapes it over her arm and looks at me to say she’s ready.
“Where’s your ID?”
She frowns. “In my bag. I think it’s still in the car.”
I nod and grab my bag, holding out my free hand to her. She takes it and lets me lead her downstairs and out of the house.
Glad that the rain has stopped, I toss my bag on the back seat and make sure Starling is buckled in before getting into the driver’s seat and asking for her ID. She leans forward, pulls her ID from her wallet, and hands it to me. I take it and slide it into my pocket before I start the car and drive off. Turning the radio on low, I look over at Starling, who has turned her head and is looking out the window.
Focusing on the road, I drive to the private airfield, knowing the pilots will be ready even though I only gave them a forty-minute heads-up. The plane’s always fueled and ready to go in case Atlas needs it on short notice.
By the time we get there, my anger has leveled out. I’m nowhere near calm, but putting distance between Abbot and Starling has helped me keep the green-eyed monster in check, at least for now.
I park the car and look over at Starling, finding her fast asleep with dried tear tracks on her face. I gently cup her jaw. My thumb traces the dark circle under her eye, and I feel a moment of regret.
Climbing out, I grab the bag from the back seat and take it to the plane. I let the pilots know I’m here before I go back for Starling. As gently as I can, I scoop her into my arms and cradle her against my chest. I carry her up the steps and onto the plane, carefully setting her down in one of the leather seats and buckling her in for take-off. Taking the seat beside her, I move her head to lay on my shoulder and settle in for the flight.
Starling sleeps through the whole flight, which I’d find funny if it didn’t worry me so much. Just how little sleep is she getting lately?
Once the plane lands and we’re ready to get off, I lift her up and carry her down to the waiting town car the pilot called ahead for. Once we’re settled inside, the driver pulls away from the plane and heads north. She stirs as I slide my hand over her thigh, just under the hem of her dress. Suddenly, the car brakes, and Starling is jolted awake.
“Sorry, sir,” the driver says, looking in the rearview mirror before returning his eye to the road. “The idiot in front of us just slammed on their brakes.”
I can't help but smirk. It’s nice not to be the one driving and dealing with idiots for a change.
Starling looks around with a frown, bolting upright when she realizes she’s leaning against me. “Where are we?”
“You’ll see.”
She looks at me with a frown before she remembers the series of events that led us here. She moves away and turns her body to look out the window, her mask of indifference snapping back into place.
That’s okay. I have a feeling it won’t last long.
When we stop, I hand the driver a few hundred dollars. “We won’t be long.”