How many flights had we taken? How many landings had I sweated through?
Countless at this point, but Maxim never seemed to care that I still barely made it through them.
As we sat on the runway, I glanced out of the window, felt that tightness come back into my stomach.
No, I hadn’t gotten used to landing yet, but I knew the nervousness that gripped me now wasn’t simply because of the flight alone.
When I heard Maxim stir, I unbuckled my seat belt and stood, the nerves in my stomach intensifying even more.
Maxim waited for me to pass and then stood behind me, his huge form and towering height enough to swallow me. But unlike usual, his presence this close to me didn’t completely calm me as it had before. Yes, he was strong behind me, his presence comforting, but the effect was muted this time, though I couldn’t say why.
I adjusted my shirt and then moved down the aisle of the private jet and to the exit.
I was in no hurry to leave. In fact, more than anything, I wanted to stay inside, take off again, an unexplained feeling of foreboding making it hard for me to do as I knew I should. That feeling screamed at me to stay, screamed at me to try to convince him to take us anywhere else.
But that wasn’t possible.
Maxim had said this was where we needed to be, so here was where we were.
I stepped down the stairs and kept my gaze centered on the waiting SUV.
I didn’t look around, couldn’t, not yet, but even though I kept my eyes on the black vehicle, my mind focused on putting one foot in front of the other, that didn’t prevent me from feeling the heat against my face, the way the wind blew here making the heat stronger and not providing any relief.
It was stifling.
I had been all over the world, but nothing had ever felt quite like this.
And all because I knew he was here somewhere.
My heart squeezed at the thought. It shouldn’t matter that he was here, especially since so many years had passed.
But it did.
I’d thought it wouldn’t, had spent the hours since Maxim had told me we were coming here, and at least part of the reason why, telling myself it didn’t matter.
I’d only barely believed it, and my more prevalent thought had been I shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t even be breathing the same air as him, not after all that had happened.
But here I was.
When I stopped in front of the SUV, I reached for the handle, but Maxim stopped me. His thick, blunt-tipped fingers barely grazed mine, but the touch was enough to set off a wave of sensation that both set my body aflame and centered me.
I looked to him, met his eyes. There was no warmth in them, no emotion, but he still had the effect of centering me, grounding me in this moment.
That Santo was here didn’t matter; what might happen here in the future didn’t matter. All that mattered was that Maxim was here, that Maxim would never leave me.
He somehow managed to communicate that message with a single look, with the faintest touch, and it was exactly what I needed to move. Under his watchful eye, I climbed into the SUV. Maxim stayed where he was until I had buckled my seat belt, and then he turned and walked toward the other SUV.
I watched as he walked, his strides long, confident, bordering on cocky. Not that Maxim needed such a thing. Cockiness often betrayed an insecurity, but Maxim didn’t suffer from that affliction. No, he believed in his own strength, took it as a given, so why wouldn’t he move confidently?
And as I watched him, I wished I could emulate his confidence, but what Maxim exuded couldn’t be copied or faked. It was a part of who he was, much like my own cowardice was a part of me.
I looked away, unable to continue watching. I wanted him to come with me, wanted to steal some of his strength, but that wasn’t possible.
He always preferred to get straight to business as soon as the plane touched down, and I likely wouldn’t see him for hours, maybe days.
But Maxim had his work, and I had mine, so I’d mimic him as best I could, do my little part.
“Hello, Adrian,” I said, glancing at the man who sat behind the steering wheel. He wasn’t as tall as Maxim, but he was powerfully built, almost stocky, and his solid form seemed to fill the front passenger area.
I looked at him expectantly, his rough, heavy features unmoving.
“Hello,” he finally said without looking at me, and then he began to drive toward what would be our home for however long Maxim decided we would be here.
Adrian didn’t look at me, certainly didn’t make eye contact, but the fact that he had spoken was meaningful enough. He seldom said anything, and that he had spoken told me my nerves were apparent to everyone. I breathed deep and tried to gather myself, gazing out the window as I fought to maintain my calm.
As we passed through the city, I took it all in, happy to have at least some distraction.