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Turbulence in the air

"I mean it, Revean . If I hear one more swear word out of your mouth tonight, I'll wash it out with soap and water, you understand?" He emphasizes the last words to leave me with little doubt that he will do exactly what he threatens.

"It's not easy to stop doing something when you've been doing it your whole life."

"Push yourself."

"I will," I relent, and he drops my jaw.

"Sir." A stewardess appears next to us. "May I ask you to take your seats, please? We're ready to take off."

"Of course." Eliot nods to the flight attendant and instructs me to sit down.

I quickly obey, not wanting to bruise my already sensitive jaw any more.

Try not to swear. I repeat the doctrine mentally.

Suddenly, Eliot holds out his hand and I startle.

"You need to put your seat belt on," he explains and takes both ends of the belt on either side of me and buckles them. I'm glad he does, because I have no idea what I'm supposed to do.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"How long is the flight? I've never been on a plane before."

"It's just under three hours. A short flight."

"Okay." I look out the window. I see nothing but the dark airfield around us. "Is it a private airfield?"

"It is," Eliot replies as the flight attendant brings him a glass of what looks like whiskey - it certainly smells like hard alcohol - and sets it in front of him with a packet of nuts. She also hands me a glass of water and some nuts.

"If you need anything during the flight, call me," the stewardess offers and disappears behind a curtain.

The plane starts to move and I hold tightly to the armrest, nerves starting to take hold of me.

Eliot smiles, "We're taxiing to the runway. In a few minutes we'll be in the air."

"I don't think I can do this," I announce as I start to feel completely nervous and my heart is beating fast.

What the hell am I doing? I just got on a plane with a man I've never met. I'm leaving home, how do I know he's going to do what he promised and help my mother?

"I want to get off," I yell and start trying to unbuckle my seat belt. "How does this thing work? Stop the plane."

Eliot seems to ignore my panic and my words. He sits back in his seat and closes his eyes.

"Please. Let me off," I beg him.

I feel the plane spin and my stomach does the same.

"Let me off," I scream, louder and louder.

Suddenly, the plane begins to accelerate, faster and faster.

"Please." I whimper and tears fall from my eyes in sheer panic.

The engines roar around me and I feel the pit of my stomach sink as I am pushed back in my seat and the plane lifts off the ground.

What have I done? I can't get off now.

"It's going to be okay." Eliot holds my hand as we soar into the sky.

I don't know why, but the warmth of his big hand around mine momentarily comforts me, but then the plane starts to turn, so now it's heading back to the airfield.

"What's wrong, are we going down, are we going to crash?" my ears pop, and all I want to do is curl up in a ball and hope it's all over soon.

"The plane has to turn, to head in the right direction. We'll level off soon. Nothing to worry about." Eliot tries to reassure me.

"That's easy for you to say. You know what's going on. This feels wrong." The plane turns again. "Make it stop." My ears pop again. "Like you don't hold on tight to anything."

He squeezes my hand. "Revean , I've flown more times than you've probably eaten hot food. I don't need to hold on tight to anything because there's nothing to worry about." He picks up his drink and lifts it to my lips. "Take a sip of this. It'll calm you down."

"Or it'll make me puke all over you."

Eliot quickly pulls his glass away from me.

The plane adjusts again and I feel it level off. All is silent except for the noise of the engines and my accelerated breathing. It stays that way for a few minutes before a beep sounds. I look toward the front of the cockpit and see that the strange red signal, which has been on since before takeoff, has gone out.

"What does that mean?

Eliot takes off his seat belt. "It means that, unless we run into some turbulence, we can go around."

I shake my head. "No, that's okay. I'm going to stay with my butt in this seat until we get back to land and I can get off this thing."

Eliot gets up from his seat and holds out his hand to me.

"No, you will unbuckle your seat belt and come with me," he orders me.

I glance around the plane. Earlier I had noticed the cream-colored leather seats and the solid oak table, but now, calmer, I see that the walls are white and there are burgundy curtains on the windows. Toward the back is a section separated by a door. I can't help but fear what's behind it.

"Revean , I don't have all day," Eliot says impatiently.

Pulling at the belt around my waist, I manage to figure out how to open it. My legs feel like jelly after takeoff. I just want to sleep. I'm exhausted, having worked all day and with everything that's happened to me since.

"Where are we going?"

I get up from the seat and grab his hand. This time his warmth is not so comforting. Mostly because Eliot seems to fill the plane with his masculine presence, towering over me.

"To the bedroom," he replies, and finally my legs give way.

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