Up In The Air: In Flight Part 29

How had I let this happen? I asked myself, again and again. I had been so certain that I wouldn't let my heart get involved. But in the end, I'd had no control, even in that.

I felt a horrible crush of guilt as I realized that Stephan cried with me. He had always been like that. He couldn't watch me suffer and not suffer himself.

"Shh, it will be okay," he told me, his voice soft and soothing, despite his tears. "We will survive it, Bianca. Whatever it is, we'll survive it together."

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR.

Mr. Duplicitous Suddenly, there was a furious pounding at the door. It vibrated as heavy fists beat against it.

"Bianca, open the door. We need to talk. Don't lock me out. Open the door. Now." James's voice rang clearly into my room, since he was shouting to wake the dead. He pounded relentlessly. I had never heard his voice at any level even approaching a shout. It startled me, to say the least.

We tried to just ignore him in silence as he pounded at the door. It went on for a good five minutes.

Each blow to the door made me tense up, until I was just a quivering mess of nerves.

It brought me back to my childhood as almost nothing else could. The door pounding, my father breaking it down and beating us because we'd had the nerve to lock him out. Almost every violent episode in my childhood had begun with fists reverberating against a door. Just like this.

I was such an emotional wreck at that moment that I reverted back to a habit I thought I had weaned myself off of years ago.

Abruptly, I shot out of Stephan's arms. I found the safest looking hiding spot, on the far side of the bed. I curled in on myself, arms wrapped tightly around my legs. It was purely a child's defensive stance, but I couldn't seem to stop myself.

I heard the door swing open, then Stephan's voice, colder than I'd heard it since the last time he'd spoken to my father. That hadn't ended well. I was really hoping this scene wouldn't end up similarly.

"Don't do that. She doesn't want to see you. Just look at her! What have you done?"

His last few sentences were strained. I heard the sounds of a hard struggle, and I knew that James had rushed inside of the room, heedless of the huge blond man filling the entrance. Stephan had blocked him, from the sound of things.

The scuffling sounds paused for long moments. I knew that either James had stopped trying to get past him, or Stephan had James pinned in a good enough hold to restrain the other man.

The sounds of a struggle began again in earnest.

"Just let me see her. I just want to make it better. I'm not here to hurt her, Stephan," James said, and his voice sounded like it came through gritted teeth.

"You've already done that! Look at her! What did you do?" Stephan's words were a furious roar this time. "You need to leave!"

"I see her," he said, his raw tone making me cringe. "Bianca, just hear me out. That woman was just a friend."

I heard the sound of a fist meeting flesh, and a soft grunt of pain out of James. I thought it sounded like a blow to the stomach. That worried me. I knew that Stephan's gut punches could do some serious damage. Best-case scenario would be just a few days of coughing up blood.

"What woman?" Stephan asked, sounding angrier by the minute.

"Please, just let me go to her. I can't see her hurting like that. It's killing me."

"So leave. You made her like that, and you need to leave. If she wants to talk to you, she has your number."

"Bianca," James said again, a break in his voice.

The sound of a body slamming into the wall finally got me to turn my head around, just enough to see. Stephan had an arm at James's throat, but James was still struggling fiercely to get past him. He wasn't trying to fight, just move past the roadblock of Stephan.

Stephan, on the other hand, looked like he was on the verge of murder. I could see the hard muscles straining on his naked back furiously.

"Just say you'll hear me out, Bianca. If not now, then later. But promise me you won't just shut me out completely. Promise me, and I'll leave. If that's what you want," he gasped.

It wasn't my first inclination to agree, but seeing Stephan being pushed to just this side of murder went a good way towards convincing me.

My voice was a quavery mess, but I finally managed to speak. "I'll give you my word, just like you did, when you said we were exclusive."

That seemed to send Stephan over the edge.

"f.u.c.ker," he roared, punching James hard in the stomach again.

I cursed myself. I had only made things worse.

"We were. We are. I never lied to you. I tell you the truth about everything, even when it hurts, because I want you to trust me," he told me, his voice labored and harsh from the blows.

His words made me so furious that I forgot that I was trying to defuse the situation. "You said you didn't date. That was a lie, since I met your date for tonight."

Stephan slammed James against the wall, cursing. "You b.a.s.t.a.r.d. You swore to me that you wouldn't hurt her. But I haven't seen her this hurt since the last time her dad got his hands on her."

That seemed to take all of the steam out of James. He stopped struggling even as Stephan tried to push him through the wall.

"Bianca, please, you can't just leave me. Just agree to talk to me again, when you feel up to it. I'll let you pick the time and place, but I can't just let you go without a fight."

"Fine, if you'll answer one question for me first."

"Anything."

"First, agree not to come near me, so Stephan can let you go."

His eyes held a desolation that I could see even from across the room. "If that's what you want."

Stephan let go of him abruptly, pacing across the room, his hands in his hair. He hated when he lost it, more than anything, and tonight he'd been pretty d.a.m.n close. I felt a crushing guilt at the knowledge that it was all my fault. I vowed never to become involved with another man.

"You can come to my house monday afternoon, at five. We can speak then."

It was hard not to feel anything when I looked into his seemingly sincere, pleading eyes.

"Sooner, please. Waiting until Monday will be pure torture."

I shook my head, holding my ground firmly. "No. Monday. Now answer my question."

He nodded. He shoved his hands in his pockets, looking absolutely devastating in his black tux with it's crisp white shirt. His hair was messed up from the struggle but still somehow managed to just look artfully disheveled.

"Have you f.u.c.ked Jules?" I asked.

He tensed up, and I knew the answer before he spoke.

"Yes. But it's been a long time."

I didn't want the question to leave my mouth, but it did anyways. "When?"

"A year, at least. I'm not sure exactly how long."

And he's known her for years, I thought.

"Was it just the one time?" I asked.

He closed his eyes. "No. But it never meant anything, I swear."

"So you've been sleeping with her for years, and you were going on a date with her after I left tonight, and it didn't mean anything?"

"I know it sounds bad, but it's not like that. I've known her since high school, and our families have ties that go far back. Her brother Parker is a close friend of mine. And she is only a friend to me. I swear it."

"But you obviously f.u.c.k your friends." My voice sounded dead, and I wished I could just shut up.

His eyes pleaded with me. "Not anymore. Anything I had with her means nothing. It never did."

"And you've only known me for a week. What does that say about us?"

His jaw clenched. "Please don't do that. It's different. We're different."

I turned away from him, finally done with talking. I just wanted him to leave.

"Please go. I'll talk to you on Monday. And please don't be on any of my flights. If you are, I'll go work in coach to get away from you." My voice was getting steadier by the moment. I sincerely hoped that meant that all of my hysterics were finished.

He didn't leave for a long time, but he didn't speak either. I heard the door open and close, then the latch being secured.

Stephan picked me up, carrying me to the bed. He held me and cried.

I knew he was hurting, and all because of me. His violent outburst would trouble him, as well as thinking he'd vetted James well, only to learn that I'd wound up hurt. And my hurt would hurt him too.

We hugged each other, and I found that my crying was far from done.

Stephan and I were both surprisingly functional the next morning, which was odd, considering how little actual sleep we got. Odd, but good.

We couldn't miss work from a layover unless we were close to death's door. Missing the return flight home from a trip had cost many a flight attendant their job. So we trudged down to the hotel lobby five minutes early, quiet, but in working mode.

Everyone had to ask Stephan why he'd never made it back to the bar the night before. He had forgotten to even text anyone, which was unusual behavior for him. He was normally considerate to a fault.

He made the excuse that he'd pa.s.sed out on his bed, drunk and exhausted. The excuse served, and the chat shifted away from the issue.

I wasn't in the mood to talk, so I stayed silent and remote for all of the crew chatter, only coming to life when it was time to work. The familiar routine helped, and I was grateful for a very busy morning, free of James.

I noticed the Agents were on the flight, one in first cla.s.s, one in coach, as usual.

We had a full house. Every seat on the plane was occupied. So it was three hours into the flight before I asked the agent, James Cook, quietly, "Do you work for James Cavendish?"

He looked a little startled, but put his poker face back on almost instantly. "I'm not at liberty to say, Ms. Karlsson."

I just nodded. I thought I had my answer.

Captain Damien surprised me by being oddly sensitive to my mood. He dropped his usual flirtatiously friendly routine, and took the time to step into my galley briefly, touching my arm, his eyes serious and sad.

"I won't ask what's made you so sad, but I just want you to know that I'm your friend. If you ever need anything, even if it's just a sympathetic ear, please don't hesitate to call me. I actually do sympathetic very well, if you can believe it." He smiled gently as he finished speaking. He was so earnest, and seemed so sincere, that I found myself oddly touched.

I smiled back. "I can believe that, actually. I'll keep that in mind, Damien. Thank you."

My small contact with Melissa as she made a trip to the c.o.c.kpit was the polar opposite of that. She eyed my bare wrist with a catty smile.

"Trouble in paradise?" she asked. She continued without waiting for an answer. I never would have given her one, so it was just as well. "You still have to wear a watch, you know. You can get written up for going without."

Stephan spoke, surprising us both. He had approached without a sound.

"I doubt that would be as serious of a writeup as you ditching the other flight attendants in coach to go into the flight deck to s.e.xually hara.s.s the pilots. Again," he finished blandly.

She gave him a look that was positively murderous, but didn't say a word. She stormed back to the main cabin.

Aside from his words to Melissa, Stephan was both quiet and affectionate that morning. I got rea.s.suring pats and hugs that actually did rea.s.sure me.

I might be stupid when it came to romantic relationships, but maybe it was fair, since I had Stephan.

Who needed more than that? Who deserved more? Not me.

We never got much downtime during full morning flights. It was hours before we got a spare moment to relax and scarf down some food in the galley. We ate our usual rejected greek yogurt, leaning against the beverage carts as we took quick bites, our shoulders touching.

"I'm going to research James online. I should have from the start. I guess I just wanted to get to know him as a person, and not his image. But now I see that what I don't know could hurt me," I told Stephan quietly, after I had finished eating.

I had an old computer, and I used it when I needed to, but I wasn't the type to spend much time online. I didn't really care about the news. When I had spare time, I almost always preferred to paint or spend time with Stephan and our other friends. I avoided Facebook and anything similar like the plague. I was sure James probably had a Facebook page, though I'd never thought of it before.

I wondered dejectedly what his relationship status would say. I shook the thought off. A simple name search would probably tell me plenty.

Stephan nodded, sliding his finished food tray into the trash cart. He held a hand out for mine, discarding it as well.

"That sounds like a good idea, considering. I should have researched him better, but I didn't. I just trusted him. I saw the way he looked at you, and I knew that he cared. I thought it was enough. And I didn't want to interfere with the one guy you've ever been interested in. Want me to be with you when you look?"

I shook my head. "No, I'll be fine."

He straightened, moving close to rub my shoulders comfortingly. "I'm sorry I got so violent last night. I almost lost it."

I patted his hand. "Don't, Stephan. It was my fault, for bringing my mess to your doorstop. You were just being protective."

"James keeps texting me. I had eight texts when I checked my phone before the flight. He's asking to speak to me. Should I? Or would you prefer that I not?"