Laura
The steady hum of the plane's engines did nothing to calm my nerves. I gripped the armrest tightly, my knuckles turning white as I stared out of the window, watching the clouds roll by.
California. It was really happening. I was heading back to the one place I had sworn never to return to. My chest tightened as memories I'd tried to bury started bubbling up to the surface.
I closed my eyes, willing my thoughts to settle, but it wasn't working. Every bump of turbulence, every shift in the plane's altitude made my heart race. I was so lost in my anxiety that I didn't even notice Jake glancing over at me from the seat beside mine.
"You look like you're about to pass out," he said in his usual gruff tone.
I turned to look at him, my stomach doing flips. His eyes were sharp, studying me closely. I forced a smile, hoping it didn't look as fake as it felt.
"I'm fine," I lied, though my voice wavered.
Jake raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. "You're sweating, Laura. What's going on?" If I didn't know better, I would mistake his questions for care.
I swallowed hard, trying to think of an excuse. There was no way I could tell him the truth - that going back to California felt like walking into a nightmare. That I was terrified of the memories I'd been running from for so long. Instead, I gave him the first thing that popped into my head.
"I... I have a phobia of flights," I said quickly, avoiding his eyes.
He leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest, clearly unimpressed. "A phobia of flights? You've never mentioned it before."
I nodded, my throat dry. "Yeah, I don't fly often. I usually avoid it." I said, hoping he wouldn't press further.
Jake didn't respond, just stared at me for a moment longer before turning his attention back to the papers in his lap. I let out a small breath of relief, glad that he didn't press the issue further. But my hands were still trembling, and I couldn't stop the knot of dread twisting tighter in my stomach.
The flight seemed to stretch on forever, each minute feeling like an eternity. When we finally landed in California, my nerves were frayed, and all I wanted was to crawl into bed and disappear.
We drove straight to the hotel - a five-star place with marble floors, chandeliers, and every possible luxury you could imagine. Jake barely glanced at the extravagant surroundings as we checked in. I, on the other hand, couldn't help but be a little impressed. The room they gave me was huge, with floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the city, a plush king-sized bed, and even a soaking tub in the bathroom.
But none of it mattered. I couldn't enjoy any of it. My heart was heavy with the weight of being back here. California—the place where everything had gone wrong, where I'd lost so much. As I stood by the window, staring out at the skyline, the memories started flooding back, one after another.
I couldn't sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, nightmares crept in. I saw his face, heard his voice, how he would yell at me to strip naked, get in bed and then force himself on me. How he groaned when he came, rolled over me and then snores away.
I tossed and turned in the luxurious bed, my mind replaying scenes I had tried so hard to forget. My heart pounded in my chest, and by the time morning came, I was a wreck.
Jake, of course, didn't seem to notice. Or if he did, he didn't care. He knocked on my door at 7 a.m. sharp, and we spent the entire day running from one meeting to the next. I barely had time to think, which was probably for the best I had no time to even remember the fears I was running from. Jake was his usual focused, commanding self, handling negotiations with ease, his sharp mind working circles around the people we met. I was in awe of how quickly he could make decisions, how effortlessly he controlled the room.
But by the time the evening rolled around, I was beyond exhausted. My feet hurt from running in heels all day, and my mind was a fog of fatigue and stress. I couldn't keep up with Jake's relentless pace, but he didn't even care one bit. I couldn't complain either since he wasn't leaving me to all the work. We were both doing the running around and working on the tasks. At a point, I started to think he was on something. His energy was over the roof.
"We have one last meeting to go to," Jake said as we climbed into the car. His voice was flat, no room for argument. "We'll head back right after."
I bit my lip, my body screaming for rest, but I nodded anyway. "Okay Sir."
We got in the car, and set out. We'd been driving for a while when I started to notice something strange. The cityscape around us wasn't familiar, and the further we went, the more uneasy I became. I glanced at the GPS on the dashboard, and my stomach dropped. We were heading in the wrong direction.
"Sir..." I started, trying to keep my voice calm. "I think we're going the wrong way."
Jake didn't even look at me. "I know where I'm going." He said firmly.
I frowned, glancing at the GPS again. The route clearly wasn't right. "But the GPS—"
"I said I know where I'm going," he cut me off, his tone sharp. His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, his jaw clenched.
I bit back a frustrated sigh, my anxiety building but I tried to stay calm. However, I was only able to keep up for a few minutes. I didn't know if it was the exhaustion or the fact that we were in California, but I couldn't take it anymore. The tension between us had been building all day, and it was starting to get to me.
"Sir, listen to me—" I tried again, but he silenced me with a glare.
"Laura, I don't need your input right now," he snapped. "Just sit back and let me handle it."
I stared at him, my frustration boiling over. The fear, the exhaustion, the memories all came crashing down at once and I was consumed with mad fury. I tried to control it to no avail and before I knew what was happening, I was yelling on top of my lungs
"Jake, stop the car!" I shouted, my voice shaking.
I could tell from the way his face lit up that he was angry, especially since I never call him by his name. Still, he ignored me, his eyes fixed on the road ahead.
"I said f*cking stop the car right now, Jake!" I screamed, louder this time.
Jake's eyes widened in surprise, and in that split second of distraction, his foot slammed down on the brake. The tires screeched as the car lurched forward, throwing us both against our seats. My heart raced as the world blurred around us, and for a terrifying moment, I thought we were going to crash.
We came to a sudden, jarring stop, the airbags deploying with a loud pop. My breath was caught in my throat, my hands shaking uncontrollably as the dust from the airbags filled the air. I blinked, disoriented, my pulse pounding in my ears.
For a moment, neither of us spoke. The car was eerily silent except for the sound of our ragged breathing.
Then Jake turned to me, his eyes dark and furious.
"Are you insane? What the hell was that?"
I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out. My throat was dry, my mind still reeling from the near crash.
"You could have killed us," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "What the hell were you thinking?"
"I... I didn't mean to..." I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper.
Jake's glare could have cut through steel. He slammed his fist against the steering wheel in frustration, his jaw clenched tight. "You're lucky we didn't crash. Do you know what could've happened?"
I nodded, still trembling from the shock of it all. I stared straight ahead, my heart still racing. The silence between us was suffocating, and I knew that things had just taken a dangerous turn.
He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair before turning back to the road. "Get out," he ordered, his voice cold. "Get out and check if the car's okay."
I hesitated for a moment, but when I saw the look in his eyes, his expression was unreadable and I knew better than to argue. I unbuckled my seatbelt and stepped out of the car, my legs wobbling as I made my way around the car, checking for any damage…