KILL ME SOFTLY

10

Mile high club.

•••

Aleksei wound duck tape around my wrist tight, and taped me to the leather seat, sticking my hands to the arms of the seats. My legs, he chained to the floor on hooks.

My head was foggy, and I was sweating.

It made me wonder, as we took off, what the fuck I'd do if this tin can plummeted to the fucking earth. There were parachutes, Id seen them hung right on the entrance of the doors when I first walked in. But I'd considered how impossible it would be for anyone to unchain my legs from said floor while the plane was falling.

I felt as if the world was spinning, like everything was a blurred silence. I knew I'd never have let them drag me up the stairs of the jet, or even have gotten onto it if I'd been sober.

I'd noticed the symptoms of withdrawal had been replaced with a high that made my chest ache in the most excellent way. "You drugged me." I said, as I set my head upon on leather, unsure of who exactly was sitting across from me.

"You become easier to be around when you are high." Elias told me, his voice wrapping around me. "But it feels good doesn't it?" He asked.

"I told you I don't do hard drugs." I said. Knowing the feeling. Knowing I couldn't love it but wanted to. "So Don't." I repeated.

"But you want to." He whispered to me, as he brushed a stay hair away from my eyes.

"No." I said. "I—I'm clean." I growled, as I tapped my knee as I felt the plane enter the casted skies.

"Alright demon." He smiled, as he traced his finger over my jaw, across my collarbones, down my nape and cleavage, over my stomach and towards the inside of my knees. His one little finger working to spread them.

"Touch me. And I will kill you." I told him, pressing my thighs together.

"My sweet wife. If I wanted to rape you, I would have done it already." He told me. Like he wanted a thank you. Like I should be grateful

"you are fucking sick." I hissed. As I narrowed my eyes.

He smirked, as he leaned back in his seat.

Why he chose to torment me for the duration of the flight by sitting across from me, baffled me. Why. Why do you continue to torture me after you got what you wanted?

"Where are we going?" asked, as I looked at him over my eyelashes. "Where are you taking me?" I repeated to clarify my question.

"I have business to attend to in Cuba." He said silently. Like his answer to my question meant nothing to him.

"What the fuck does that have to do with me?"I asked.

He peered at me, like he was wondering if I was stupid. "people who don't...agree with the way I run my business, want to slaughter you" He smirked sadisticly. He said 'business' so casually. But this wasn't a 9-5 fucking job. I stared at him, trying to hide the thoughts that spun in my head.

Slaughter me.

"But they won't touch you if you're with me." He said, as if it was some gross misleading assurance he barely meant.

"I find it hard to believe you brought me with you to ensure my safety." I growled, as I dug my jagged nails into the upholstery, as the cloud in the sky shot passed us as the roar of the twin engines hummed in the background of our conversation.

He said nothing, as a female stewardess came forward through the front and brought him a glass of scotch, like his order was one they keep known.

Ew, he is a scotch drinker.