Heartstrings

(8) Sweet

Sophie

I look out the window of Lucas' private jet, taking calming breaths through my nose. He and my father thought it wasn't safe to take me home in a long car ride. Not with the arising suspicions of the other Societies. Sooner or later, they'll find out about my new fiancé. And soon, the South will take offense. I just hoped we will have enough time.

My two new bodyguards (Eastern soldiers) sat behind me. Jacob is playing his knife in front of me. Lucas was at the cockpit talking with the pilot.

I sank to my seat, the restrain of the seatbelts felt like they were crushing me. My hands fiddled with the hem of my dress – this time, it was my size because I went to buy it myself. But, not without Paul and Sebastian staying close. I grew up with my father's most loyal soldier as a bodyguard. He taught me a few things with knives. And had taught me how to hold a gun right. I begged him to because it was the only interesting thing of being homeschooled.

Allen was on a bathroom break when Swanson dismissed the guards. He was the one who found me and I knew immediately he would've taken the blame if he had the chance.

I've always had him wherever I go. Now, having two Eastern soldiers as bodyguards, I felt safer. Even though they hardly spoken to me or have their eyes linger for more than a minute.

Lucas appeared from the cockpit and I tensed knowing we were about to take off. He lowered himself next to me and buckled his seatbelt after checking I had mine on.

"Are you okay?"

I nodded, keeping my head turned away so he wouldn't see I just squeezed my eyes shut when I felt the pressure of the jet taking off. My fingers trembled.

I didn't ride much planes growing up. But I dreaded it when I had to.

Lucas' hand closed over mine. "Nervous flyer?"

I could only manage a nod, locking my eyes further closed as the pressure escalates and my stomach flips back and forth.

His arm went around me and then I felt his shirt-clad chest against my cheek. His musky scent invaded my senses and it actually made me forget about the pressure in my ears.

Lucas smelled so nice that I may have overstayed my invitation which I hadn't realized until he spoke calmly.

"We're good."

I inched back slightly, color smearing my face. I peeled my eyes open and hoped he wasn't seeing the embarrassed blush, but luckily, I couldn't read his face.

His hand stayed on mine. And I was glad it did because moments later, the plane jiggles from a turbulence.

My fingers clawed at his hand and I resorted to his chest for solace, my stomach doing uncomfortable somersaults. His arms were instantly molded around me.

The jet shook. And I heard myself whimpered.

His hand stroke my back, his mouth close to my ears. "They're just turbulence. It'll be over before you know it."

Lucas held me close, and like he said, they were gone. I pulled back, suddenly dizzy. I put a hand over my forehead as my stomach stirred furiously. My other hand fumbled my seatbelt off. I bolted to my feet and hurtled toward the bedroom, dropping to my knees when I reached the bathroom.

I retched, my head lolling weakly over the toilet. My stomach heaved out everything I have eaten for breakfast.

A hand went to my shoulder and gathered my hair behind my head. He held them in place until I threw up the last contents of my stomach.

He ushered my face to his chest as he flushed the toilet.

"Sorry, this is why I hate flying," I croaked. "that and my mother died in a plane crash three years ago." I tried to make my tone light as possible, but my voice just sounded so small.

Lucas freezes against me. Then his hand cradled my head. "Don't be sorry."