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Good girl. Heart thundering against my ribs like a stampede of wild horses, I pull myself up and slam into Torres, taking him down. We hit the floor hard, grunting and throwing punches. Unfortunately, he’s in decent shape, not some overweight butterball with a penchant for donuts.
I don’t hesitate to employ every underhanded trick I learned from Deck. Yes, he spent some time as an MMA fighter, but he competed in underground fight clubs long before that. Illegal fights with few rules and large payouts. All I know is when Deck joined our crew, he didn’t do it because he needed a paycheck.
A well-placed knifehand strike to Torres’ throat has him gasping and choking. Then I make the split-second mistake oflooking up at Hunter whose head is turned, watching us duke it out.
“Watch out!” she cries.
Torres’ fist catches me in the jaw and my head snaps sideways. Damn, that’s going to leave a bruise. I return the favor, slamming my knuckles into his side.
“We’ve got company!” Hunter yells.
This time, Torres and I both look up and over, out the side of the open door. At first, all I see is wide-open blue sky. But then we do a crazy dip and I see another helicopter not far away, closing in fast.Not good.
From the corner of my eye, I spot Torres’ discarded gun. I think we both must see it at the same time, because suddenly we’re clambering across the narrow floor, both hellbent on getting our hands on it.
But my arms are longer, and I reach out, fingers touching the handle, when Torres drops down on top of me with a hard blow between my shoulder blades.His elbow, I realize.Fucking ow.
Once again, the helo dips sharply and we scramble for purchase as we both roll toward the open passenger door. I manage to snag onto the bottom of a seat, but Torres misses and, instead, grabs onto me. Barely.
My entire body jerks and he’s clinging onto my ankles, the rest of his body dangling out the side of the helo, flapping in the wind like a flag. He’s too damn heavy to dislodge with a solid shake, and I kick out, catching him in the face with my boot’s heel. For an interminable moment, I feel him struggle…feel mybody being sucked out of the cab…and then all the pressure disappears as his grip tears free and he falls.
I huff out a relieved breath and drag myself away from the door. Breathing hard, knowing I just narrowly escaped being sucked out the side with him, I carefully crawl over and shut the damn door. Of course, I take a second to look down. Make sure he’s not hanging onto one of the skids. But Alejandro Torres is nothing more than a splat on the ground far below.
My stomach drops as the helo takes a sharp dive. Staggering up, I climb into the front seat beside Hunter and see the other helicopter heading straight for us.Great. More of Torres’ goons.
“Strap in!” she orders, and I don’t ask questions. But my trust in her doesn’t prevent my heart from lodging in my throat. We’re on course for a head-on collision.
“Hunter!” I yell, my fingers digging into the seat cushion. This is going to end in a fiery wreck.
“Don’t worry. I live for a good dogfight.”
Fucking fantastic. How can she be so calm? I’m seriously on the verge of shitting myself and she’s having a grand ol’ time. I don’t think she’s even broken a sweat, and I’m drenched.
“Do you trust me?” she asks, throwing my earlier question right back at me.
I look at the helicopter speeding straight toward us then over into her clear, fearless, focused eyes.
“I trust you,” I rasp, then let out a shout as she swerves us sideways and up at the very last second. Her perfectly executed maneuver manages to clip the other helo’s rotors in the exactright place to make it go spinning out of control. At the same time, we lurch hard and spiral off into our own spin.
“Fuck!” I brace myself, but can you really prepare for a crash? Teeth clenched, I think my life starts flashing before my eyes. But it isn’t the past I see—it’s the future. Moments with Hunter that haven’t happened yet. And, dammit, I don’t want to miss out on even one of them.
Everything happens so fast, but when I look over, I see Hunter manipulating the stick and pedals to counter the spin. I never should have worried, or doubted her abilities. She possesses a deft touch and knows exactly what she’s doing, and I watch in amazement as she regains control.
Once we’ve evened out, I slump back against my seat, and she throws her head back and laughs. “It’s been a while since I got to do that,” she tells me, glancing over.
I must be white as a ghost, and I slap a hand over my heart.
“Are you okay?” she asks.
“I think my soul momentarily left my body.”
She extends a hand and I grab it, threading my fingers through hers.
“That was some fancy-fucking flying, Sparrow.”
“I told you I’m good.”
“Yeah, you are,” I say, “but I think I’m ready to put my feet back on the ground.”