50 Shades of Drake 3 and 4

Chapter Forty-Six

    Her name was Zaya. She was average height, thick in all of the right places, and had short cropped black hair. Her blazing green eyes were such a bright shade that they looked more like contacts. Her curvy frame was packed tight into a pair of cream-colored slacks and a matching vest. Pointy-toed heels completed the look. The clutch she had on Aubrey's arm, to the casual observer, looked like the clutch of a woman who was in love and couldn't keep her paws off her man. In actuality, the grip she had on him was so tight, it was close to the point of cutting off his blood circulation. She leaned in close to him and nipped at his ear with her teeth. "You're doing very well. But you should really smile. You just told the reporters that you're going on vacation, but you look like you're on your way to a funeral."

    "You're forgetting something," Aubrey continued, staring straight ahead towards the jet in front of them.

    "Oh, am I? What am I forgetting?"

    He withdrew a pair of Serengeti shades from the pocket of his dress shirt, unfolded the arms, and slid the sunglasses up his nose. "I don't take orders from you." He cast a glance behind them, and gently shoved her away from him. "The cameras are gone. You can take your hands off of me, now."

    "You're pushing it," she hissed at him.

    "The only thing I'm pushing is you," he shouted over the sound of the jet plane, smoothing out the sleeve she'd wrinkled as he climbed up the steps of the jet.

    The pilot greeted him and gestured down the aisle.

    Zaya followed Aubrey down the aisle, and the three ridiculously buff bodyguards that had shadowed them the entire walk through the airport kept close at her heels.

    Palmer was seated towards the back of the jet, sipping champagne. When he saw Aubrey, he grinned and raised his glass. "Just for you," he said, tilting his glass in Aubrey's direction. "I can't stand champagne, but figured I'd be a horrible host if I didn't get some for you." He lowered his eyes to a slender, dark-haired man seated across from him.

    The man scrambled out of the seat and claimed a seat closer to the front of the jet.

    Palmer lifted his eyes to Aubrey and gestured towards the chair across from him. "Are you enjoying Zaya's company?"

    Aubrey glared at him, the darkness in his eyes rivaling that of onyx.

    "You should be nicer to Zaya. Ever since your mixtape days, she's been one of your biggest fans."

    "Not anymore," she grumbled, dropping into the seat across the aisle from Palmer. "He's a dick."

    Aubrey ran a hand over the back of his head. "You said I had to play along with this stupid charade. You didn't say I had to like it."

    Palmer laughed. "I'm trying to make this entire setup as enjoyable as possible for you, and you're pissing all over it."

    "Because this will never be enjoyable to me," Aubrey said calmly. "I should be home right now, with the woman I love, living my life."

    Making a show out of looking at his watch, Palmer said, "Well technically, you'd be at work right now. Not at home."

    "Don't be that guy," Aubrey said, turning his head to look out of the window.

    "You're mad at me because I killed some of the people around you, tried to kidnap your girlfriend, and forced you to go on camera with another girl, which will hurt your girl's feelings. If I were in your place, I'd probably be angry, too." Palmer took a sip of his champagne and frowned in distaste. "But being a grouch isn't going to make your situation any better. You might as well relax and calm down."

    I can't calm down when I know that Destiny's heart will be broken after seeing the fucking video of me at an airport with another woman. All I can do is hope that she never sees it or hears about it, but let's face it - that hope would be wasted. Even though I'm no longer an entertainer, the media clocks my every move and when they do, everyone's tongue starts to wag. He leaned his head back on the headrest of the seat, as the pilot announced that the jet would soon start to taxi. With a sigh, Aubrey drew his seatbelt across his lap.

    "Damn, you're dragging my mood down," Palmer muttered, setting down his champagne glass. "I go through the pain of looking into what type of women you like, am fortunate to have an associate that fits the bill, introduce you to her, and you're acting like I just crushed your entire world."

    Yeah, because I should be in the mood to party and hook up with some random girl after finding a dead man in one of my condos, Bridgette dead in her hotel room, and Steve dead in his house. Palmer is crazy. That's not an exaggeration. He is crazy for real.

    "Are you worried about your girl still?" Palmer asked him curiously. "Because all you need to do is continue to play nice, and she'll be fine."

    "I can't trust anything you say," Aubrey stated flatly.

    "I understand why you would feel that way, with people dying and all, but think back. Have I ever lied to you?"

    Aubrey replayed their previous conversations in head, but couldn't find a lie that Palmer had told.

    "Throughout this entire ordeal, I've been up front with you," Palmer said, wagging a fat finger at him. "I warned you that I would harm people close to you if you kept looking. And you kept looking. All you had to do was stop like I asked, and those people would still be a part of the living world. You can blame me all you want for this, but in actuality the blame lies with you."

    Again. He's crazy. Don't listen to him. Aubrey's hand grew clammy with sweat. He closed his hands into fists, trying to fend off the guilt that came at him full force. Three people no longer existed in this world, in this life, and to maintain his sanity, he had to believe that the fault was Palmer's. Thinking that any of that blame lie with him was enough to drive him crazy. And on top of it all, I'm planning on killing him. I once rapped that I think I like who I'm becoming, but now I have to ask myself...Just who am I becoming?