Chapter 30: Chapter 30

◇ KEL ◇

This long day wasn't close to being over. Unfortunately.

Realizing I had to spend another few hours with unfamiliar people I wasn't even allowed to talk to, I glanced at the guy sitting next to me, appreciating how he wasn't wearing a stiff dark suit over a concealed deadly weapon—unlike the other men in this cold, crowded plane.

Spending the eve of his birthday in a cramped private plane with gun-toting strangers surely wasn't what Miles had in mind yesterday.

It was getting late, and clearly everybody was tired and jumpy. A doctor, a paramedic, and a nurse had conducted physical examinations on Enzo when they arrived in the estate. Cloe had already been fetched by an ambulance that time. The medical staff made sure Enzo was safe to transport via air travel.

So Miles and I had to bid goodbye to his family before we were escorted to the private plane with Enzo and the bodyguards. Miles' birthday was in a few hours, and we'd probably still be at the airport past midnight.

Although I wished the circumstances were less hectic, I couldn't do much but let him tag along and just try to make him feel appreciated in any way I could. The scene in the prayer room where I'd caught him crying to himself just stayed in my mind for the rest of the evening. I wanted to make  him feel like he could talk to me, confide in me anytime.

But Miles just kept to himself. We sat in the seats farthest from Enzo and the medical team. I glanced at Miles and put an arm around his back, watching him focus on his phone for too long. He was reading a contract of some sort, and his brows furrowed in concentration.

Maybe I could distract him from his most recent stressors...at least strike up a conversation to keep his mind off some things.  "Enzo gave me a blank cheque."

"What?" Miles stopped staring at his phone screen like it would be gone if he blinked. His hazel eyes regarded me.

"A signed cheque.  I gave it back to him;  he kept insisting."  I glanced around to make sure nobody was near enough to overhear the conversation.

"You're keeping it?" Miles frowned.

"No. He kept insisting but I gave it back."

"Good," Miles murmured. His nose and lips lightly touched my hair when he whispered to me. "I'll have someone transfer some money to your account when you get home."

"What? No. Don't." I shook my head adamantly when he pulled a face at my reaction.  Once more, I leaned closer to him and pretended I was merely cuddling with him, so as to seem perfectly normal to the watchful eyes of Mr. Falco's and the Tomassinis' bodyguards. Two of them were giving us not so subtle glances from time to time.

"Be serious."

"I am," I sighed and looked away. "Don't send me money."

"Your dad's insurance won't cover half of the bills. It's a major surgery, and he's been in the ICU for...what, a week?" Miles no longer kept his voice muted. "Do we really have to argue about this?"

"Your dad told me something." I shifted in my seat and stood up.

It made him frown. Miles looked confused and curious at the same time. We still had a lot to talk about. Better make use of the time we had left before I would have to leave the country by myself. On the morning of his birthday, too.

"Lavatory. Step in after five."

It took him a few seconds before he gave a short reply.  "Go."

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As if being trapped in a private jet with uncommunicative strangers for an hour wasn't bad enough, now I intentionally confined myself in the most uncomfortable space on the aircraft...which could definitely trigger another anxiety attack during the whole flight if I wasn't calm.

I leaned against the smallest sink ever and killed time watching the time, literally waiting for the clock hands on my watch to move as every minute ticked by.

Four minutes later, Miles stepped inside the narrow cubicle. Although he didn't seem that eager to resume our talk, he stood in front of me beside the toilet, his shoes touching mine, his steady gaze more curious than bothered.

If it were another human being, I'd rather jump off the plane than be stuck in such a constricted space with someone.  Most of my thoughts centered on my family and my father's condition in the hospital, but half of my brain was also riveted by the Falcos and the things I had discovered just hours ago.

"What?" Miles watched me as I kept biting the inside of my cheek while staring at the sink.

"What happened? Where were you before I saw you in the prayer room?"

Instead of answering my question, Miles backed away and gave me an insouciant shrug.

I waited for a moment, but he just didn't say anything. "Ricchar and Cloe told me about..." I paused to lower my voice. Somebody could be listening right outside the comfort room, for all we know. "Why she and Enzo got hurt. Then your Pappa asked me something."

Immediately, Miles avoided my eyes and made a face, looking quite bothered by my topic of choice. "About?"

"Niccolo."  I glanced at how he just crossed his arms below his chest.

Again, Miles didn't reply and avoided my inquiring gaze. He kept clammed up; he wouldn't even face me now.

"He kept asking why...my name was on Niccolo's list."

Miles feigned a grin, hastily combing his wavy hair as he tried to ignore me.

"What?" I squinted at his blithe response.  "What list was he talking about?"

"I'd tell you if I knew the answer," he muttered after a moment of silence.

"No idea? At all?" I stepped closer and kept staring at him. I made an effort to sound calm when he didn't say anything to confirm or confute my statement. "It kinda scared me."

"Ignore him." Miles turned away and leaned against the sink. He still wouldn't look me in the eye, seeming doubtful of my words. "He doesn't know what he's talking about."

So was he saying, Mr. Falco was only trying to scare me? Did he lie to me? I doubted it.

Finding out his family was targeted by a clan of mobsters was of course the shocker of my year, but, at the moment, I was more interested in other family secrets than traumatized by what happened this morning.

Both Ricchar and Cloe were of sound mind, as were Miles' parents. They weren't a family suffering from paranoia or psychosis—nor were they high on mind-altering substances. Cloe's grave injuries also proved a lot. Some people really tried to hurt them.

We'd stayed in the Falco estate barely two days and the information I'd discovered about his family should be messing with anyone's sanity. He probably couldn't believe how I wasn't absolutely appalled by his family's underground connections.

"But he said my name was on Nicco's list, and that Nicco had...dug up some important records."

In response to my insistence, Miles shook his head faintly, as if I wasn't making any sense.  "Forget about it."

"What if Niccolo's dead?"

"Stop. Just stop. Okay?" Miles sighed out loud and massaged his forehead.

"I don't think he was just lying about that to...scare me or something. He kept asking."

"Let's just talk about somethin' else. Alright?"

"Fine," I sighed and stood close to him again. My forearms rested on his shoulders as I gently massaged the back of his neck. He was tensing up again;  his shoulders felt too stiff beneath my palms. "You okay?"

Miles stared back at me. His nose almost touched my cheek. When I tried to hug him,  he looked away and tentatively pushed me off.

It felt like a quick slap in the face. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Just..." Again, he refused to look me in the eye.  His face had turned pale for some reason. He even backed away from me. The small space we were in didn't give him many options, though.

"You okay?"

"We need to stop talking."

"What?" I frowned at his suggestion. Or was it a command? "Why?"

"I need to call Ricchar." It was all he said before tension filled the soundless seconds that followed.

"Could you do it after?"  I didn't mask my complaining tone this time. Was he telling me I was no longer allowed to contact him once I arrive in New York?

Why not? What set off his odd behavior? Fear? Anxiety? Miles wouldn't even let me near him now. He wouldn't even look at my face.

"Miles."

"No texts. Calls. Emails."

"What?"  My throat closed up. I stopped trying to get near him again and tried to gauge the seriousness of his tone.

"It's important." He glanced at me and sighed.

"I don't want to."

"Go back to your seat."

"We're not done talking." My voice faltered, and my chest was starting to hurt. He was pushing me away again, practically leaving me in the dark.

"Go back home. Stay in New York." Miles scowled and rubbed his palm on his face. "Don't come back to Italy."

"What?"  Stay in New York? Never come back here?  Why was he telling me all this? Did he think my life was in danger? My legs just went numb at his orders.  "You're kidding."

"It's not bec—  It's for your safety. Okay?" He glanced at me again and swore to himself. "We shouldn't... You can't be seen with me from now on."

For a moment, I only watched him keep a safe distance, vexed that his mood headed way south in mere seconds. The scowl wrinkling his forehead clearly said he just wanted me out of his sight.  What did I even do?

Miles took a step towards me when I stayed completely still.

"I can't even hug you at the airport? Or send you a text?"  I stared him down.

To my disappointment, his only response was a casual shrug and no eye contact again. Another awkward moment passed before I finally turned to the door.

Alright. He was done talking to me. I was being bothersome.  From now on, I should just mind my own business. Message received.

"Suit yourself." In embarrassment and haste, I unbolted the door and left him alone before he could see the tears rushing down my cheeks.

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