Chapter 143

So… I’m a moron.

Only a moron made the decisions I did.

I got on the plane with Frankie Zanetti.

In my defense, I never found a good time to escape. The man surrounded himself with guards. It was smart but made escaping difficult. Henchmen came out of the woodwork, and by the time we pulled into the airport, two more cars had stopped behind us to complete the sea of suited men. People probably thought we ordered an NFL team—as long as no one noticed the guns barely concealed by everyone’s jacket.

I chomped on Frankie’s offered gum, trying to be as loud as possible to annoy him as he occupied the seat right next to me. Even on the plane, he didn’t let me get far away, as though he thought I might run to the exit and jump out.

It wasn’t a half bad idea, and if I wasn’t concerned about turning in that paper on time, I might’ve risked it. He probably wouldn’t give me a parachute, though. Plus, asking would be a dead giveaway.

And even kidnapped, I didn’t have a death wish.