IMOGEN'S POV
I didn’t want to go on this f*****g trip.
My body was sore. My face ached from the blow Perry gave me earlier, and every bone in my spine begged for rest. But of course, Perry never cared about things like that. If he said go, you went. No matter how you felt.
Even then, sitting huddled into the extreme corner of the jet, I dared not sighed too out aloud. He was striding up and down the aisle with a telephone rush to his ear hurling commands like a crazy dog.
“I said double the f*****g security at the site! I don’t care if it’s underwater or halfway in hell!”
The staff members flinched and so did I.
The whole flight had been like that, one relentless river of anger, resentment and suspicion. Our former posh airplane seemed just like a metal cage, transporting us to hell.
