Diem is shocked that we’re flying first class. I guess she thinks we’re poor. She even offers to pay for her ticket, but quickly shuts up when Rookie and I both level her with a look. I keep her close to me and my eyes open. I don’t want to be caught off guard if one of Dorian’s men shows up. Diem doesn’t look the least bit worried. Rookie assured me we had a week. So did Clark and Diem. Obviously, I’m not as trusting as them.
We’re drinking Bloody Marys on the plane waiting for the final passengers to board, when a familiar face catches my attention. I look over at Rookie, who’s sitting across the aisle from me, but his eyes are closed and he’s wearing headphones.
I try to clear my throat, but he doesn’t budge. So I just let Carrie stand in front of him, with her hands on her hips while she wears a look that makes me think she’s devising a plan to kill him. I feel Diem’s hand wrap around my arm as she shifts in her seat to get a better view of the shit that’s fixing to hit the fan.
Eventually, I guess Rookie feels eyes on him and looks up. He takes Carrie in, blinking a few times to make sure he isn’t dreaming. Then he looks over at me. Knowing he’d do the same, I just give him a shrug. Turning back to Carrie, he slowly lowers his headphones.
“Carrie,” he says cautiously. I’ve never seen her this pissed. I’m guessing he hasn’t either.
“You’ve walked out on me for the last time, Rookie,” she starts, her voice shaky with anger. “I hate it has to come to this, but I’m giving you an ultimatum. Either I’m in this or I’m out. Your choice. But I’m tired of the lies. The secrets. The lonely nights. I can’t do it anymore.” Her voice breaks as she struggles to hold it together.
Rookie just stares up at her, his face unreadable. I want to kick him, then demand he say something. The girl is dangling by a thin rope. And that motherfucker is holding the other end. He needs to just let her go, or grab her by the arms and pull her in. There’s no other option at this point. She’d said her piece.
Without taking his eyes off her, he grabs his bag from the seat and stands. My eyes narrow, wondering what in the hell he is doing. Then, lifting the compartment above his head, he shoves the bag inside and motions for her to take a seat.
“I may or may not have had something to do with this,” Diem whispers to me. I turn to look at her, raising my eyebrows. “What?” she asks, feigning innocence. “I like her. She deserves to know the truth.”
I shake my head. “See, this is why most of the brothers don’t have girlfriends. Y’all are like a pack of bloodsuckers. Y’all stick together and try to pick our brains for info and drain us dry.”
“That’s about the shittiest thing I’ve ever heard you say.” She leans back in her seat, jerking her hand from my arm.
Great. Now my woman is pissed too. Fuck girl power. “I’m just saying that their business is not our business. Maybe Rookie thought she couldn’t handle it. And that’s for him to decide.”
She whirls back around to face me. I can tell by her look, I’m fixing to be subjected to her wrath. “No, it’s for her to decide. But she can’t decide shit if she doesn’t know what she’s deciding.” Now I’m confused. “I know what it’s like to be kept in the dark.” She quirks an eyebrow at me, but really? It’s not like she was Mother Teresa.
I roll my eyes, knowing this is a fight I cannot win. “Whatever you say, Diem. But if this shit comes back to bite me in the ass, I’m biting yours.” Downing my drink, I motion for the flight attendant to bring me another. When she hands it to me, I shoot her a smile of thanks, and because Diem is already pissed, she takes it out of context.
“I saw that,” she mumbles, just as the same flight attendant starts speaking over the intercom. “I’ll choke that bitch with the phone cord.”
“What happened to you not wanting to be a monster?” I ask, keeping my voice low enough for only her to hear.
“Just because I don’t like slaughtering hundreds of men doesn’t mean I don’t get satisfaction out of killing a few deserving ones. Especially women who hit on my man.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake. Calm down.” Damn, she’s exasperating.
“You calm down,” she says, poking me in the ribs.
I groan, holding my side and eyeing the phone cord. Maybe I could choke her just long enough for her to pass out. I look over at Rookie, who is holding Carrie’s hand, kissing it reverently while she leans her head on his shoulder.
“Why can’t you be more like that?” I ask Diem, jerking my thumb toward the two lovebirds across the aisle.