THIRTY THREE – PANIC ATTACKS

MIRA

We are finally aboard one of Mason's private jets, bound for New York. I lean towards the windows, giving the city of Las Vegas one last, longing glance before we depart. The realisation that I may not be back here in the next one year crashes on me, killing my already dampened mood.

Mason hired professionals to oversee the running of the store for him while he'll be gone. I have no idea how to feel about that. I wanted to be actively involved in the growth of the store. It was supposed to be my legacy. I guess not all dreams come true.

The hostess announces the departure of the plane and Anna and I buckle ourselves in. Mason had disappeared into the back of the cabin without a word, and without a single glance in my direction. I have no idea how to feel about that either.

The plane begins its taxi down the runway and my skin becomes cold and clammy with sweat and fear. As usual, painful memories of the stony faces of those men as they tore their whips into my skin assail me.