They Bet On My Flight, So I Booked One To Iceland Chapter 05

They Bet On My Flight, So I Booked One To Iceland Chapter 05

He froze for a moment, then laughed.

There was no amusement in it, only offended disbelief.

“Break up? You think threatening to leave is going to scare me?”

“I’m not threatening you.”

I had no interest in wasting another word on him. I grabbed my suitcase handle and reached for the pill bottle in his hand.

Mason stepped aside before I could take it and clenched the bottle tightly in his fist.

“Fine. You want time to cool off? I’ll give it to you.”

He backed into the hallway.

My chest tightened abruptly.

“Mason, what are you doing?”

The apartment door swung shut in front of me, and I heard the key turn in the double-cylinder deadbolt from the hallway.

I rushed forward and tried the handle, but the door would not budge.

Mason’s voice came through the door.

“Chloe and I are making one last bet. Four hours. After four hours in there, you’ll realize how far you took things today.”

I pounded on the door.

“Open it.”

“I’m taking your pills with me so you can’t use your condition to manipulate me again,” he said coldly. “Call me when you’re ready to have a reasonable conversation.”

His footsteps receded.

A moment later, the elevator doors closed with a chime.

The apartment fell silent.

I stood in the entryway with my palm pressed against the door as my breaths suddenly grew short.

The narrow entryway, the locked door, and the medication I could not get back closed in around me like an invisible hand squeezing my lungs.

I turned and began searching the drawers.

There were no extra pills.

Everything in my backpack had been scattered during the struggle at the airport.

My phone had slipped into a tear in the lining. I dug it out with trembling fingers, but the fingerprint scanner failed three times in a row.

A message from Chloe appeared.

Chloe: [Avery, calm down. Mason is only doing this for your own good.]

I stared at the message, and suddenly, I could not laugh anymore.

They genuinely believed that locking me inside was for my own good.

My heart began racing faster.

Darkness crept into the edges of my vision.

Before I lost consciousness completely, I knocked over the console table in the entryway.

I snatched up the brass ornament from the floor and, with the last of my strength, brought it down hard against the floor-to-ceiling window in the living room.

The glass exploded with a deafening crash.

Shards flew in every direction and buried themselves deep in my forearm. Blood poured out almost instantly.

My phone screen lit up again.

It was a message from Mason.

The lock-screen preview showed a single line.

Mason: [It’s only four hours. Stop acting pathetic.]

When I woke up, my injured arm had been immobilized and secured at my side.

A nurse was changing my dressing. When she saw my eyes open, she lowered her voice.

“You needed seven stitches in your forearm, and you lost a fair amount of blood. Building security heard the glass break, forced the door open, and called an ambulance.”

I stared at the ceiling for several seconds before I became aware of the dry ache in my throat.

The nurse handed me my phone.

“We just got some charge into it. It’s been ringing for a while.”

There were dozens of missed calls on the screen.

Every one of them was from Mason.

Chloe had also sent several voice messages.

I did not listen to them.

A mutual friend had sent me a video first.

In the recording, Mason was sitting in a lounge booth with a drink in his hand, speaking casually.

“I’ve spoiled Avery. A few hours locked inside will teach her who actually cares about her.”

Someone laughed and asked, “You really locked her in?”

Mason leaned back against the seat.

“I’ve gotten her through every panic attack she’s ever had. Do you really think I’d hurt her? She lost her temper, and she needs to learn a lesson.”

The video shook and ended there.

Another message from the same friend followed.

A mutual friend: [Avery, what happened at your apartment? Mason took a call and went completely pale. He nearly ran into the door on his way out.]

I opened our three-person group chat.

Heavy wind filled the first voice message, and Mason’s voice shook badly.

Mason: [Avery, where are you? Why is there blood all over the floor? I was wrong. I shouldn’t have locked you in or taken your medication. Please answer your phone.]

Sirens sounded in the background of the second message.

Mason: [Avery, please. Just say something. Don’t scare me. I know I was wrong.]

A private message from Chloe appeared immediately afterward.

Chloe: [Avery, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were still claustrophobic. I thought Mason was only trying to scare you. Please don’t shut me out.]

After listening to everything, I felt perfectly calm.

The stillness inside me was like snow falling across an empty wilderness.

Using my left hand, I typed a message into the group chat.

Me: [Still alive.]

Mason replied almost instantly.

Mason: [Avery, which hospital are you at? I’m coming right now.]

I continued typing.

Me: [Chloe once helped me through the lowest point of my life, and Mason once saved me. Whatever I owed either of you was paid in full the moment that door was locked.]

Chloe sent a string of crying emojis.

Mason typed and deleted several messages. In the end, only one remained.

Mason: [I didn’t mean to do it.]

I stared at those words and was struck by how familiar they felt.

Chloe had said the same thing when she got me disqualified from the competition.

She had said it again when she broke my laptop.

Mason had locked me inside and taken my medication, yet all he had left to offer was that he had not meant to do it.

I typed one final message.

Me: [From this moment on, I never want to see either of you again, not in this life or any other.]

After sending it, I blocked and deleted Mason, Chloe, and everyone else in the group who had told me not to be so unforgiving.

When the nurse returned and saw me sitting up, she hurried over and pressed a hand to my shoulder.

“You can’t be moving around yet.”

“I have a flight tomorrow morning.”

She frowned.

“We really should keep you under observation for a day.”

I gathered my medical paperwork and receipt and placed them in my travel bag.

“I’ll keep an eye on it during the flight.”

A few hours later, I arrived at the boarding gate with my suitcase.

The wound was still oozing blood, leaving a pale red stain along the edge of the bandage.

When the boarding announcement began, I looked back at the city behind me one last time.

No one came after me.

And no one could ever lock me inside again.