The Leader's Girl

11. Rio de Janerio

Violent was not a label I would have ever applied to myself. Sure, I had a fiery temper and a stubborn streak a mile wide, but the idea of physically harming someone had never crossed my mind. That is, until I witnessed Jones' reaction to the offer of my services on a silver platter.

The imbecile had cackled with delight, doubling over in hysterics as if I had just delivered the funniest punchline in history. It was like a slap in the face, adding insult to injury after discovering that Mason was also responsible for my father's death. And let's not forget the embarrassment of having a full-blown anxiety attack in front of these people who already viewed me as weak.

My head was pounding from the lingering effects of a wicked hangover, making everything feel ten times worse. So when Jones dared to laugh at my daring request, I saw red.

In a blind rage, I lunged at him with claws bared, aiming for his perfectly chiseled features. If Juan hadn't caught me, I know I could have inflicted some serious damage. With the intense fire burning through my veins, it was like I could take on an entire army single-handedly.

But Juan's strong arms held me back as I struggled and thrashed against his grip. As Jones gradually sobered up from his fit of laughter, he didn't even flinch at my attack - only fueling my anger further.

"You find this amusing?" I roared, fighting with all my might to break free.

Juan held onto me tightly as I struggled to break free, my anger boiling over Jones who had just insulted me. "Let me go, Juan! He deserves it," I seethed.

Jones rested a hand on the back of Martínez's seat as he tore his attention away from his magazine to watch the situation unfold. "You know, I can't remember the last time I laughed like that."

"Why I outta-" My attempts to throw myself at Jones were thwarted by Juan's unyielding grip. With each tug towards him, he pulled me in the opposite direction towards the front of the jet. Despite my short legs swinging and kicking beneath me, Juan didn't set me down until we were out of earshot.

He blocked my access when I tried to dart back to where Jones was standing, smirking at his successful diversion. I let out a frustrated groan and ran a hand through my messy hair before slumping against the wall until my butt hit the floor.

"Are you done?" Juan asked calmly, looking down at me with a mix of amusement and concern.

"He laughed at me. He fucking laughed at me." I flailed my hands towards Jones in exasperation.

"Well do you see yourself right now?" Juan's words hit me hard and I couldn't deny that I must have looked completely ridiculous in my fit of rage.

I glared up at him, but he didn't react in the slightest. Huffing, I pulled my knees up to my chest and hugged them tightly. Deep down, I knew Juan was right. I had officially lost it.

Somebody should probably sign me up for the looney bin because right now, it didn't seem like such a bad place to be. At least there, I would have an excuse for my behavior and maybe even find some peace. Plus, being a mute Jane Doe meant my family would never be able to find me. I could build a new life for myself, even if it included a crazy lady named Joan who ate hair and talked to the walls. It would still be better than my current circumstances.

I buried my face in my knees, allowing my anger to fade into exhaustion as I took a few steady breaths, trying to regain control of my emotions.

I heard the shuffle of Juan's feet as he slouched down beside me, letting out a deep sigh. The weight of his presence next to me was heavy and comforting at the same time. His body language spoke of exhaustion and sadness.