Although there have been no new murders, the Pier Killer is still at large. If you have any tips or hints, please contact the police hotline. –The Seattle Tribune
THE WINE WAS HELPING, THOUGH NOT enough for me to forget what a messed up situation I was in. Private plane or not, I was still with Nikolai, and as per usual, he was being extremely vague about why he was so incredibly stressed out and clearly not sleeping. His eyes held more darkness than before, almost like he was fighting a losing battle with some sort of life ending sickness and knew the future was bleak.
I sighed and took one more healthy drink of the red wine and sat my glass on the table next to me. Warmth flooded my veins as I closed my eyes.
Nikolai leaned forward, his eyes focused in on my mouth. Butterflies erupted in my stomach as he slowly pressed a kiss to the side of my mouth.
Searing pain erupted in my neck. A stinging, and then warmth washed over me.
“What the hell?” I shoved him away from me, knocking my wine glass to the floor as I frantically pressed my fingers against the delicate skin on my neck. When I brought them back, there was no blood. For a second there I could have sworn he stabbed me. Frowning, my vision doubled as I stared at my finger tips for any trace of… my mind went completely blank as waves of heat softly rolled across my body like a caress.
“Something wrong?” Nikolai asked in a gorgeously smooth voice, like velvet, or the most exotic wine. He was positioned directly in front of me, part of his black button down shirt was opened at the neck exposing bronzed skin and an expanse of muscle I knew dipped lower.
My gaze fell down examining his pecs, wishing his shirt was tighter. I licked my lips as my eyes focused in on his belt buckle.
“Maya?”
“Hmm?” I blinked a few times then met his gaze. “Sorry.” My lips felt fuzzy. “I think that wine made me… dizzy.” Wait, did I have wine? I looked down at the spilled glass. Clearly I’d had wine, I’d just drank too much. “Sorry.” I repeated again, though I wasn’t sure what I was apologizing for.
“You’re exhausted.” Nikolai’s voice had shifted, something in his tone was different, something that called to me, or maybe a memory inside my head. Fear, trickled down my spine as I gripped the arm rests of my seat. “Why don’t you tell me what has you so stressed, Maya?”
My name on his lips was damn sexy.
He chuckled. “Why thank you.”
“Did I say that out loud?” I asked, embarrassed.
“Yes.”
“Great.” I smiled, though my face still felt funny. “You have to know working under you, wait, if I was under you I’d be… a prostitute, like the ones you see. They are prostitutes, right?”
“In a way,” he finally answered.
“I knew it!” I tried to push against his chest but my hands wouldn’t move as fast as I wanted them. “You and prostitutes. Why is it that you flirt with them and you don’t flirt with me?”
His eyebrows shot up. “That’s what has you stressed? You want me to flirt with you?”
I frowned. Did I? “I don’t… know.” I finally said. “I mean you kiss me, then you… act like I don’t exist.”
“Hmm.” Nikolai took a seat directly next to me and pulled my hand into his lap. “Does that hurt your feelings?”
I nodded dumbly. “Or maybe it hurts yours.”
“Pardon?” His smile was devilish.
I wanted to run my tongue along his lips, so bad that I couldn’t focus on anything else. I just wanted to taste him.
“Maya?” His tone was low, gravelly. “Other than the flirtation is there something else bothering you, perhaps your dreams?”
“You’re in them.” I didn’t realize it was true until the words were out of my mouth, like my brain had chosen to remember something that every other part of me had sworn to forget. I pressed a hand against my right arm as a stinging sensation built from my wrist all the way up to my elbow.
“Scars?” Nikolai pulled my arm into his lap and ran his fingers delicately over the scars from my car accident.
I nodded. “Car accident. I was sixteen, well, almost sixteen and got in a wreck. It was my fault. All of it. My father had told me I could drive after my birthday, but my car was just sitting there. So I drove it… straight into an office building.”
“Lucky to be alive.” Nikolai said in a tone I could only describe as angry. What? That I was living?
I popped my knuckles nervously. “Yes, I guess so.”
Nikolai gripped my hands to keep me from popping. “Why do you do this?”
“Nervous habit.” I shrugged and then a memory flashed. “Or…” Popping knuckles, bloody knuckles, right in front of my face.
“Maya?”
I shook my head. “Sorry, I just have a reoccurring nightmare about bloody hands.”
“Maya, this is important, are there any defining marks on these bloody hands?”
“Bloody.” My heart started slamming against my chest as a choking sensation washed over me. “So much blood.” I let out a whimper and began frantically clawing my way out of the airplane seat. “I have to get away! It’s not safe! I’m not safe!” Tears blurred my line of vision. “He’ll kill me!” I was full on screaming, unable to control the panic building in my chest. “He’ll kill me, you too! He’ll kill us all!”
“For what?” Nikolai asked calmly, as if we weren’t about to die. “Why would he kill you? What did you see?”
“Blood.” My teeth chattered, “So. Much. Blood. And she was just… laying there, after he—” Shaking, such uncontrollable shaking, I made it out of my seat and into Nikolai’s lap as he started wiping the tears from my cheeks, tears I didn’t even know had spilled.
“Shhh,” he whispered in my hair. “It’s just another nightmare.”
“No,” I argued. “No. It’s real!”
“Maya,” he said my name slowly. “Open your eyes, really open them. Look around you. We’re safe, in my plane, and you’re in my arms. Too much wine and you fell asleep and woke up screaming.”
“But—” I glanced around, throat dry, he was right but I still, I felt… like something was missing, something important. “Something… feels wrong.”
“You were terrified, I’m sure. But I’m here now…” Nikolai’s deep brown eyes searched mine as he lifted a piece of candy into the air and whispered. “Butterscotch?”