Page 45 of Crown of Death
While I expected a domestic commercial flight at the Denver airport, we instead roll down an unfamiliar road, toward a further location from the main terminals. I look out the window, through the darkening evening, and my eyes widen slightly as Fredrick drives right up to a sleek whitejet.
“Is this…” I stutter, watching the workers who hustle all around. “Is thisyours?”
“When jet-setting around the world,” Cyrus says as he opens the door, darting around to my side and opening mine, “It’s a much more pleasant experience when you have your owntransportation.”
I scoff, taking his hand as he helps me out. I shake my head, looking at the jet indisbelief.
The money this man must have. I can’t even imagine what that must belike.
Fredrick and Mina take the bags, which there are quite a few of, and load them up into the plane. Cyrus stands at the bottom of the stairs, indicating a hand for me to take the stairsfirst.
A little bit of a smile pulls on my lips as I take them, one at atime.
I step inside, and it’s just as luxurious as Iimagined.
The entire interior is finished in black and white. The oversized seats are a plush white leather with black trim. The walls are darkest black, eating all the light. Red lights line the floor, casting a very faintglow.
“I hope you’ll be comfortable for our trip,” Cyrus’ voice suddenly whispers next to my ear. I startle slightly, looking back at him. He wears an amused, satisfiedsmile.
The crew wraps things up, and Mina and Fredrick take seats toward the back, each on a phone, talking hurriedly to someone on the other end. Cyrus and I take seats on the same side of the plane, seats that face oneanother.
The pilot, a pale man with nearly white-blond hair comes out, speaking to everyone, but he says it in German. Cyrus quietly says something affirmative, and hedisappears.
I look out into the dark while we taxi out onto the runway. And just a minute later, I’m pressed back in my seat as we gain speed, and then, we’re in theair.
“I wonder if you’ll tell me,” Cyrus says once we’ve finished climbing. “You’ve said some things that I don’t quite understand. You seem to have had a good life. Loving parents. A younger brother you seem to care about. Rath, despite you not knowing the truth about him, has always been there for you. You’re well on your way to your dream career.” He pauses, studying me with his forest eyes. “But what you say. You called yourself bitter today when speaking to your friend. You said things go from bad to worse for you. Would you help me see where that comesfrom?”
He sits with one ankle over the opposite knee. His hand casually rests on his thigh, the other elbow braced in the window showing a dark world, slowly rubbing hischin.
Dark. Deep. Captivating.Terrifying.
He owns all ofit.
I shake my head, looking back out the window. “You’re very observant,” I say. I tuck my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them. “Life was going pretty good. I really shouldn’t have anything to complain about. My parents are great. Eshan is a pest, but I love him. I have Amelia. Had Eli. And I love myjob.”
But I shake my head as I stare out at the nightsky.
“Sometimes, even when you’re doing everything right, life has a way of knocking you on your back, and kicking you while you’redown.”
My breath clouds the window, but I’m not really seeinganything.
“Money problems is the basic way to describe most of my downward spiral, but it’s way more complicated than that,” Ibreathe.
“I know it’s of little comfort right now, Logan,” Cyrus says quietly, “but once you step into your new life, money will never be of consequenceagain.”
I look over at him. And I appreciate that he recognizes that it doesn’t diminish the stress and pain it’s caused me the last twoyears.
“I can take care of myself,” I say. But it isn’t stubborn or spitefully said. Just a stated fact. “I…I don’t know how I’m going to figure this one out, but I alwaysdo.”
He doesn’t say anything for a long time, but I feel him watchingme.
“What your friend said,” he finally speaks. “What you said, that you’ve never been in love. Did you meanthat?”
I look up. He really isobservant.
“It’s where it all started, the downward spiral,” I say, being honest. “A month before I graduated from high school. I’d been dating this boy, Anderson, for two months.” I shift, straightening, looking back outside. “I was trying to see what all the other girls were talking about. Trying to feel something for him. But no,” I say. “It wasn’tlove.”
“But something happened.” His voice reveals thetruth.