The rest of the flight dragged on in slow motion. I couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t read. My pulse thudded in my ears every time I looked up and saw him—Maddox—still watching me, still impossibly composed.

Just before landing, he stood again. I expected him to walk past, maybe to the restroom. But instead, he paused beside me and slipped something into my open book. A folded note.

He didn’t say a word.

The moment we touched down, he was gone—off the plane before I even unbuckled.

With shaking hands, I unfolded the paper.

“Don’t go to your hotel. You’re being followed. – M”

My stomach dropped. I looked around. Nothing seemed out of place… but suddenly, every stranger felt suspect. Every eye lingering too long. Every suitcase possibly planted.

Outside baggage claim, I hesitated. And that’s when I saw it—across the street, the same black SUV that had been behind my cab two days ago. Engine running. Tinted windows.

I backed away, heart racing, and reached for my phone.

But before I could dial, a familiar voice murmured behind me, “Told you not to be nervous about the plane.”

I spun around. It was Maddox.

And this time, he wasn’t alone.

Lesson: Sometimes, the real turbulence begins after you land.