Elizabeth Goddard - Treacherous Skies

One wrong decision and everything she’d worked for slipped from her grasp. How would she survive this? Even if she did survive, how would she escape and return unscathed, live the life she’d created without anyone being the wiser?

The pilot would want answers. She needed to tell him enough so he would understand how important it was to avoid contacting the authorities, and yet keep her identity and her life as secret as possible.

No one knew better than her, no one would understand that only she could solve this problem. Only she could connect with her father—for real this time—to discover why this man kidnapped her again. To discover what it would take to end this once and for all.

For twenty-plus years, she had deluded herself into believing she’d escaped Roberto for good. Roberto and her father were bitter rivals, and their feud could easily be taken right out of the headlines as they’d battled over territories for decades. He wanted to use her against her father, and the authorities would do the same if they discovered who she was. Her life would never be her own.

If the authorities knew her true identity, she’d be monitored, and then she could never safely make contact with her father again. Nor would she get the chance to say goodbye.

But Connor wouldn’t understand, nor did she blame him. Maya pressed her hands over her face and rubbed her eyes. She heard the squish of leather and knew the pilot sat across from her.

Instead of acknowledging him, she coiled inside herself, wanting to stay hidden away as long as possible.

“You need to tell me everything.” The deep timbre of his voice mingled frustration with betrayal, but she didn’t hear the fear she expected. “Right. Now.”

She dropped her hands and lifted her eyes to meet the piercing daggers in his. “Why do you look at me like that? I’m as much a victim here as you.”

Her words didn’t appear to move him with compassion. Not much, anyway. Still, she didn’t miss the fleeting crease between his brows. Using a harsh tone with her pained him. He didn’t like having to question her like this any more than she liked being interrogated. But she understood why he needed answers.

“You said, ‘he already has people inside, and they’ll be waiting for us.’ What did you mean? Who are you talking about? We don’t have time for games. Who kidnapped you?”

Why wasn’t he terrified? Didn’t he understand the danger they were in? Or was he a tough guy, a dangerous man himself, for reasons she’d yet to learn? Maybe his Eagle Scout air was simply a facade. Who was he, really?

When Maya didn’t answer, he leaned back in the seat as though he had all the time and patience in the world. Maybe he did. But he didn’t know what she knew. “You don’t have to tell me anything. You can tell the authorities when we land,” he said.

Maya’s heart jolted against her chest. He knew which buttons to push. Smart man.

“The man who kidnapped me, who owns this Learjet, is a powerful Colombian drug lord.” She’d been pulled back into the Colombian drug wars, used as a pawn and stretched between the warring factions. Between Roberto and her father, but she’d leave that information out as long as she could.

“I see.” Connor pressed his finger against his lower lip, contemplating her words. “Then why does he want you? What are you to him?”

This was the part where Maya needed to buy herself time, stall him as long as possible. Forever, if she could. And anyway she honestly didn’t understand why she’d been kidnapped this time. She could only guess. “You should be more worried about the fact that you stole his Learjet. He will be waiting for you.”

Roberto Hernandez had connections everywhere. That’s why her mother had gone to great lengths to hide her over twenty years ago. Maya would have thought he’d forgotten her with so much time gone by. Now she doubted she’d ever find solace again until the man was dead.

The pilot shook his head. “We’re landing in Miami. He can’t get us there.”

Maya prided herself on reading people and understanding their motivations. Despite her previous concern that he could be a dangerous man himself, Maya believed Connor considered himself a law-abiding citizen, and that what he’d done in taking the plane was aboveboard. He didn’t understand that “right” and “wrong” didn’t matter to Roberto. All he cared about was what he viewed as his property—and he’d go to any lengths to hold on to it...and punish those who took it.

“You don’t know who you can trust, even there. Even if you remove me from the equation, you forget that you have just stolen a plane.”

“I didn’t steal the plane. I was acting as a recovery agent, representing my friend at a leasing company that owns it. For whatever reason, the payments—which are significant, by the way—have fallen into arrears. I have all the paperwork I need to recover the plane for the rightful owner.”

“How much do you trust your friend at this company?”

The way the pilot’s lips parted slightly, Maya knew she’d hit her mark. She’d created fear and doubt. And in doing so, she realized something herself. Roberto could have had all his assets frozen—including any front companies he might own in the U.S. Or maybe his cartel had been destroyed, making him more desperate than ever. That would explain why someone had sent Connor to repossess the Learjet he used, and why Roberto had gone to such lengths to kidnap her again before it was too late. He could torture her father and ransom her for the money he needed at the same time.

“Whether or not your repossession of this Learjet is legitimate, our welcoming committee could ferry all of us back into Roberto’s hands.” The truth of her words snaked around her chest and squeezed.

Though he stared at her as if he believed she was crazy, she knew she’d planted the seed deep and that the pilot would give her words sufficient consideration. She needed him to focus on his own problems and allow her to take care of herself. That was her only hope for escape. Her only hope to return to the life she’d created—that is, once she found out how to end Roberto’s pursuit of her forever.

“What are you suggesting?” he asked, a shred of alarm finally making an appearance in his blue-eyed gaze.

Maya opened her mouth to speak—

Connor’s attention was torn from her by a muffled explosion.

FIVE

What’s happening?

Connor looked out the window and saw nothing wrong. Nothing leaking from the right engine. No fire. No damage that he could see from where he stood, anyway. But he hadn’t imagined the muted blast. Maya’s reaction told him she’d heard it, too.

The Lear rolled to the right, throwing Connor into Maya. Time spilled into eternity as he found himself pressed against her soft, trembling body. When he searched her eyes—almost getting lost in their depths—he saw her terror.

Was she afraid they would crash?

Or more afraid they would land?

“I’m sorry.” He gently extricated himself from her, his thoughts split between her and getting to the cockpit. “Did I hurt you?”

Her eyes locked with his, she shook her head. Suddenly, he wanted to make everything right for her. Protect her. He shook off the momentary insanity, ramping his mind back to reality. Everything crashed into him at once—retrieving the Learjet, Maya’s kidnapping, the muted explosion outside the window.

The plane shook with a battering vibration.

Maya gripped the seat. “What’s happening?”

“You’d better strap in.” Connor left her and ran to the cockpit, a loud buzz resounding in his ears from somewhere in the back. He sank into the captain’s seat next to Jake.

“Is it the engine?” Connor asked.