Chapter 9 - High Turbulence Above The East Coast
The Cole Logistics Gulfstream aircraft cut through the dark, turbulent clouds thirty thousand feet above the Atlantic coastline.
Inside the luxurious leather cabin, rain lashed violently against the small oval windows as the plane rocked heavily in the gale.
Ren sat in a plush armchair, her hands gripping the wooden armrests so tightly her knuckles were completely white.
She had never been on a private jet in her life; in fact, she had only been on a commercial airplane once when she was ten.
Across the aisle, Damian sat calmly reviewing cargo manifests on his tablet, completely unbothered by the severe weather.
He noticed her rigid posture, her rapid breathing, and the way her eyes darted nervously toward the rattling windows.
Without saying a word, Damian unbuckled his seatbelt, stood up, and moved across the cabin to sit in the chair directly beside her.
He reached out his broad, warm hand and covered her trembling fingers on the leather armrest.
Ren flinched slightly at the sudden contact, but the heat of his hand anchored her amidst the violent shaking of the aircraft.
“Look at me, Ren,” Damian commanded softly, his voice remarkably soothing through the cabin noise.
Ren turned her head, her green eyes wide with genuine fear as another heavy drop of turbulence rattled the cabin floor.
“I’m looking,” she whispered, her heart hammering against her ribs.
“The pilot flying this plane has ten thousand hours of combat flight experience,” Damian explained calmly, his thumb stroking her knuckles.
“This aircraft is built to handle twice this turbulence without structural stress.”
“I’m not going to let anything happen to you. Do you understand me?”
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Ren looked into his steady, intense grey eyes, feeling the absolute truth in his voice calm the panic in her chest.
She didn't pull her hand away from his; she squeezed his fingers tightly, leaning into his warmth as the plane descended into Miami.
