Agent Stevenson really doesn't seem to care that we're getting pointed and stared at as he drags me through the airport.

Like, literally drags.

Like, my heels are digging into the floor and he's causing holes to be burned through my sneakers.

His wrist is still handcuffed to mine and I have to hold on to his arm to keep the metal cuff from slicing through my skin.

I can't wait to see how he explains this to security.

"Stop fighting!" He hisses as he stops and pulls me in front of him and begins pushing me instead of pulling me behind him.

And what do I do?

I pretend to faint.

He swears out loud. "Get up." He growls. "I don't have the time or patience to deal with you right now."

I don't move and stay limp in his arms, eyes closed. With any luck, he'll begin to think I've actually passed out and he'll unlock me to get help.

"Fine." He says simply and before I can grasp what's happening he's thrown me over his shoulder and began to stroll on down to security.

"Put me down." I hiss. My arm's twisted at an awkward angle because of the stupid cuffs but my other arm is as good as ever and I begin to pound on his back with my fist.

Fun fact, he's literally made of stone.

I do more damage to my hand than to his back and he just lets out an annoyingly taunting laugh. I can't see his face but I can definitely tell he's smug.

I've never had the sudden urge to kill someone...until I met him.

I'm all but thrown off his shoulder and onto the floor. I glare at him from my position and get to my feet, all the while he smiles widely to himself.

He pushes past several groups of people and drags me behind him. I crash into several people, muttering my apologizes as he pulls me roughly along behind him. Though I'm not actually apologizing for running into the people. I'm apologizing for taking certain needed objects out of their pockets...like bobby pins.

I bend the bobby pin out and stick the end of it in the keyhole on the cuffs. Agent Stevenson continues to drag me behind him, oblivious to what I'm doing. I almost cry out in glee when I hear the click of the lock and the handcuffs begin to fall from my wrist.

I hold onto it for a couple more seconds until I see an opportunity and the second I do I've dropped my end of the cuff and am sprinting out of the mass line of people.

I don't make it very far.

"You're making it very difficult for me to do my job." His grip is like iron as he grabs hold of my wrist and drags me behind him much more forcefully than before.

"Help!" I scream as I try to yank my arm free. "I'm being kidnapped! Help! Rap-"

A hand is clasped over my mouth faster than humanly possible. His eyes flash dangerously.

"I dare you to finish that freaking sentence."

So I do.

What can I say? I don't back down from dares...though I'm thinking that maybe I should have this time.

Agent Stevenson has clearly never heard the saying, 'forgive and forget.' And I don't even want to know why he was carrying around duck tape in his pocket, but he was, and he slapped a piece over my mouth so hard I'm sure I'm going to have a bruise. But since my hands weren't tied I just ripped it off after about fifteen seconds.

I don't know how we make it up to security but somehow we do. The security guards eye Agent Stevenson like he's a criminal as I give them wide fear filled eyes and pretend to be innocent of any and every wrongdoing.

It works right up till the point he flashes the security guards his badge.

I really hate badges. It's like 'oh look at me I get a free pass to do whatever the hell I want and you can't do shit about it except comply with my every wish and demand.'

"Don't worry about her." He says with a dismissive wave. "Runaway I'm taking back home to her parents."

I am not a damn child.

"She doesn't look that young." One of the security guards comment and I feel like jumping into his arms and giving him a hug and a thank you.

"She's actually only sixteen-"

How the hell am I going to pass for sixteen? Sorry to inconvenience you Mr. Agent, but I don't look like I'm sixteen.

"-and she's living proof of the side effects of drugs, alcohol, and prostitution. It starts young."

Oh, he did not.

He better sleep with one eye open for the rest of his now shortened life.

"I am not a-"

He silences me with a hand over my mouth. So I lick him, and when he pulls his hand away ever so slightly in disgust I bite down hard. He lets out a string of curses that no child-scratch that-no person on the face of this planet should ever hear.

I bring my hand up and slap him hard. His eyes flash with a burning hatred and his grip on my upper arm tightens to the point I think I'll lose blood flow to my hand. I couldn't care less right now though, not after what he just said.

He catches my hand in his after I try to strike him again. So I kick him, Unfortunately, I don't hit what I was aiming for and instead, I only hit his shins after he moves his leg way too quickly.

"Don't try it again." He growls out at me in warning and I'm sure my eyes are blazing with fury. But it just doesn't faze him.

He drags me past security after we're finally cleared, and they even gave him some of those thick zip ties to restrain me. I hate them. I hate him. There's a special place in hell reserved just for him.

He shoves me forcefully into the seat on the plane closest to the window, before taking the seat right next to me. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and scrolls through his music before choosing a song, putting his earphones in and closing his eyes as he leans back.

I know he can't hear me since I can hear his music loud and clear from my seat next to him. I really hope he blows out his eardrums. But with my rotten luck, that's likely to never happen.

I watch people board the plane in a continuous steady stream. We're seated all the way in the back, in the most uncomfortable plane seats I've ever had to experience. Since we're all the way in the back of coach, our seats are pressed up against the back wall of the plane, right in front of the bathrooms. Which basically means, the seats can't recline in the slightest, and the stench from the bathrooms is overpowering.

Though Ryder seems to be completely immune to it. Lucky bastard.

I twist my hands and wrists around in every way I possibly can, trying to free myself from the vice grip these zip ties have on my wrists. What's the point though? Even if I manage to get out of these zip ties what then? Ryder is literally a giant immovable boulder in my path.

I could wait until He falls asleep, but considering he just had a large cup of coffee before boarding I don't think that's going to happen any time soon. And even if I waited until he has to get up to use the bathroom-cause I know he's going to have to after that large coffee-he already told me he's going to be zip tying my wrists to the plane seat.

I could climb over him after he falls asleep. I didn't become a thief because I'm a clumsy person. I'm quick, nimble, and very quiet when I want to be. Although, if there's anything I've gathered from Ryder so far, it's that he's very good at his job. That and he has reflexes like you wouldn't believe.

I'm not too game to try and make an escape while he's asleep and has a very, and I do mean very, high probability of waking up. I'm not entirely convinced he wouldn't try and kill me first chance he got.

That's when I notice it. It's like a stroke of good luck coming to me for once in my life. The woman in the seat in front of me has sleeping pills. You know, the kind that just knocks you out for long flights. The kind that people who hate flying use often.

I glance at Ryder. His eyes are still closed, his head back against the seat, his music still trying deafen him. His muscles are tense though, not relaxed. He's still perfectly aware of his surroundings, even if he can't hear anything other than that ridiculous music.

Of course, I still have to figure out how to get out of these zip ties. I look around at everything in front of me, but nothing stands out. Not that anything should since sharp objects of any kind are not allowed on planes, and the staff are highly unlikely to add anything of the sort to the seats. I need to get off this plane before it takes off and right now they're still boarding, so I have time.

I look over at Ryder again, watching for any indication that he's aware of what I'm doing. When he doesn't move, not even twitch, I bring my wrists up to my face and take the end of the zip tie in between my teeth.

I pull on it, tightening the zip ties immensely. I pull and twist the zip ties around on my wrists until the locking mechanism is right in between my wrists and I can tighten them no longer without doing myself some serious damage.

I look at Ryder one more time, as far as I can tell, he's still nowhere near asleep, but he seems to be perfectly oblivious to what I'm doing, and what I'm about to do.

I cautiously lift my arms up so my hands are over my head. I shoot one more cautious glance at Ryder before swinging my arms down quickly towards my stomach. My elbows flare out to my sides, and I pull my shoulder blades back as if trying to touch them together. The force causes the zip ties to snap at the locking mechanism.

Not my favorite way to get out of zip ties, considering it leaves a mark and you may not have feeling in your hands for a while. I prefer a sharp object to cut through the ties. And trust me, I've had a lot of practice getting out of zip ties and handcuffs.

Not only because I've had problems with those two particular objects being used against me on several occasions. Which is why I was taught by the gang how to get out of those. We were all taught various different ways to get out of handcuffs and zip ties. And the ways they went about teaching us were not really the...nicest.

I reach my hands in between the seats in front of me and tap on the woman's shoulder. She turns to look at me through the gap.

I give her a friendly and disarming smile. "Hi. I'm really sorry to bother you but I couldn't help but notice those pills you brought with you. See I hate flying and I forgot mine, you wouldn't happen to have an extra one would you?"

"Oh of course!" She exclaims as she digs around in her purse again for the pills. I feel like jumping for joy as she passes me a couple of the pills.

"Thank you so much," I tell her as I shoot glances at Ryder who still has his eyes closed, thankfully.

I wave down one of the stewardesses trying to get everyone seated comfortably. "I'm really sorry to bother you right now," I start, still sneaking glances at Ryder. How out of it can he possibly be? "But my-uh-"

What to call him, what to call him...

"-brother needs to take his medication, and he really needs some water if that's ok."

The stewardess gives me a dubious look. "He's your brother?"

Understandable that she wouldn't believe me. Ryder's the tallest freaking guy I've ever met, muscled to perfection, dark brown hair, devilish green eyes, light stubble along his jaw, and flawless toned skin. He's a damn god and he knows it too. Cocky idiot.

Me on the other hand, I'm about average height, long light red hair, freckles across my cheeks, very pale skin, and bright light blue eyes. Complete opposite to Mr. Cocky sitting next to me.

I give her a small tight-lipped smile. "He's adopted," I say dismissively. "So, can I get a couple of bottles of water for him or not?"

She nods hastily and runs off into the back. She comes back a few moments later and hands me two water bottles. I flash her a grateful smile.

As soon as she's out of view I twist open one of the bottles and drop both the pills inside it. Unfortunately, I have to hope he doesn't see the pills at the bottom. There's no way they'll completely dissolve before this flight pulls out of the airport. I shake the bottom vigorously a few times, trying to get whatever has dissolved of the pills to spread around in the water.

I shake it for a little while longer before grabbing hold of the broken zip ties sitting in my lap, and wrapping them back around my wrists in a way that looks like I'm still tied.

I then throw the water bottle at him. His head snaps over to look at me and then down at the bottle on his lap. He pulls his earphones out of his ears. "What is your problem?"

I shrug innocently. "Thought you might be thirsty."He narrows his eyes at me and scoffs. "And," I add. "I also needed you to open this for me."

I hold out the other water bottle towards him. "Since you know, I can't exactly do it myself since you rendered me completely helpless," I add in a snarky tone.

He glares at me before snatching the bottle out of my hands, twisting the cap off, and then thrusting it back into my hands. I take a sip and pray that he'll unconsciously do the same. I nearly shout in joy when he opens his bottle and chugs a little less than half of it.

Considering the woman sitting in front of me is already asleep and she only had one pill, I'm fairly certain Ryder will be out cold in no time. I hide my smile by taking another sip of my water.

Ryder makes a face as he pulls the water bottle back from his mouth and stares at it as if he's never seen it before.

He lets out a little dramatic cough. "What the hell is in this?"

I feign innocence. "What do you mean?"

"It doesn't taste right."

I turn my head so he can't see me smile. "Mine tastes fine."

"Of course it does."

I smile widely and turn to face him, plastering an innocent look on my face. "Well, it could be because there's nothing....extra, in mine."

He turns his head slowly to look at me, eyes narrowed with suspicion and jaw locked up tight. "What. Did. You. Do?" He growls out, taking great care in annunciating each word.

I lean over towards him so my mouth is right by his ear when I talk, my breath fanning against his skin, "Consider it payback for you little prostitute comment."

I pull back from him and lift my water bottle back up to my lips, making sure to make a show of the fact that I'm no longer restrained by those ties. His eyes narrow even further, and I notice he's beginning to have a hard time keeping them open.

"Besides," I continue in a conversational tone. "now you can tell me all about the side effects of drugs."

"I...am...going...to..." He doesn't finish his sentence, instead, his head slumps forwards as he finally gives into the effects of the pills.

I push his head back against the seat, pull his sunglasses out from his front pocket and slip them over his eyes before putting his earphones back into his ears. I climb over him with ease and turn back to look at him once more. And in a split second decision, I take his horrible excuse for a hat off his head.

"You'll thank me later," I tell his sleeping form before waving down the stewardess so she can get me the hell off this plane. "Enjoy your flight."