Cruel Kisses (It's Just High School #2) - Thandiwe Mpofu Page 0,67

my focus on his back.

Okay, new journey, let’s see what you got for me and how you’re about to fuck me over this time.

15

After what feels like a million years of bone chilling coldness, she’s finally with me.

I don’t know how to explain the rush of feelings that are now ravaging my insides. My chest feels so damn tight, my heart is fucking racing out of control, pounding away like it wants out of there and all I want to do is stare at her and make sure this is real because fuck, it feels like she’s going to disappear right in front of my eyes.

Electricity runs through my arm as I tug her with me and for the millionth time since I saw her at that hotel, I want to kiss her, hold her, be inside her so deep that she’ll never think of running away from me.

Just wait, asshole. You can’t jump her bones right now and definitely not with her in this state. She’s sad, you asshole, be there for her!

But I can’t wait. I’m at that fucking point where I think I need her too much. Like she literally controls me at this point.

There was a time where all I cared about were my brothers and now, one is six-feet under—I failed to really protect him when I thought I was—and the other currently hates me.

And he’ll hate you even more for finding Mia and not letting him know, you asshole.

I knew that, sure, but in this moment, with Mia’s soft hand in my calloused large one, I can proudly say, I don’t give a shit.

Don’t get me wrong, this isn’t a sweet reunion. If anything, I feel like I’m just taking her to our battlefield where we’ll fight to the death. But the key word here is ‘ours.’

This, this moment, it’s ours and it’ll always be ours.

“Where are we going, Julian?” Her softly worded question does something to my chest and leaves me barely breathing. I know she’s anxious. I can also feel her fear and sadness so intensely, like it’s gripping me by the throat, reducing me to a pile of worthlessness.

This… the uncertainty in her voice, the distraught look on her face, it wouldn’t be there if I had just been there when she needed me.

“We’re almost there,” I say, rubbing my thumb over her hand, trying to sooth her.

“Mr. Fitzgerald,” one of the flight attendants greets when we get to our destination at the end of the plane in a restricted area they never allow passengers to get to.

“Is everything ready?” I question, tightening my hold on Mia’s hand when she tries to let go.

“Yes, sir,” the guy says. “I trust you’ll find everything to your liking, sir.”

Ass kisser. He probably thinks he’s about to get a fat raise or something. Too bad I’m not easily swayed with ‘going-above-and-beyond’ bullshit like my father.

“For your sake, I hope so.” I move past him and open the door, standing aside to let Mia get in first.

“Whoa,” she whispers, looking around with wide eyes, taking in the blue lights and the glow in the dark stars on the ceiling. The space has been furnished with a mini bar with two stools, a sizable bed at the side and just off the room, there’s a small washroom. “What the hell is this?”

The place where you and I are going to be enclosed for ten plus hours, which means I want you to either scream my name or tell me the truth. If you can manage both, that would be great as well.

“Initially, it was one of the storage rooms until its full potential was realized, especially when one values his or her privacy.”

“Privacy?” she questions, turning around to look at me. “Potential?”

“This airline is owned by my family,” I admit, and she tilts her head at me.

“Well fuck.”

My sentiments exactly but in this very moment, I’d be a fool to look my gift horse in the mouth and curse it. If anything, right now I owe my dad big time.

“I didn’t know commercial airlines have… these,” she whispers, looking around in awe.

“They don’t. Well, that’s the official shit they’ll tell you anyway,” I say, putting her backpack and my coat down on the bed.

“So, this place doesn’t exist?” she questions, and I know she’s rambling. Mia doesn’t care about the damn room.

“It doesn’t,” I answer, watching her closely. She looks different. Hell, she even feels different.

Something happened—no—something is happening to her and I fucking don’t like