Page 4

Present…

L ooking out the plane’s windshield, I see nothing but clear skies as I enjoy the final leg of the flight. I’ve had my pilot’s license since I was seventeen, and flying is my first love. When I’m soaring above the clouds, all my worries and troubles temporarily melt away.

I’ve been doing a lot of flying lately thanks to my old military buddy Braxton “Pharoah” Graves.

He and his team—better known as Ex Nihilo—needed a pilot in their quest to take down The Agency.

A lot of secrets and twists I never could have imagined recently came to light, but Brax and company defeated the nefarious group.

He also reunited with his ex-wife, Quinn, and they rekindled their love.

And marriage. In fact, they should be enroute to their honeymoon in Hawaii right about now.

And I’m not jealous at all. Nope, not one little bit.

Okay, maybe a smidge.

But it has nothing to do with Brax and Quinn, who are perfect for each other, and everything to do with me.

I’m not exactly sure what my problem is lately, but I feel…

empty. Normally, I’m so independent, strong all on my own, and couldn’t care less about finding a significant other.

But after witnessing the Ex Nihilo crew fall in love one by one, it’s making me question things.

Should I open myself back up to the possibility of love? Dating? A relationship?

I groan. Just the idea of baring myself to a man makes me queasy.

It’s so scary putting yourself out there, opening up physically and emotionally, then getting shit all over.

I tried once, and it didn’t end well—for me.

Being burned sucks. And ever since that terrible experience, I’ve closed myself off.

Like a turtle, I tuck my head and hide whenever I feel threatened.

Or, in my case, someone flirts too hard and shows too much interest. Because letting a man get close again, allowing myself to be vulnerable and potentially hurt, scares me.

I shut that line of thought down fast and focus on the blue horizon. I left Brax and Quinn’s wedding early for this job, so while it’s not a pleasure flight, I can still enjoy my sky-time.

Current flight time has me arriving in Bogotá, Colombia, in less than half an hour.

Local time is three hours ahead of San Diego, so I’ll be coming in at eight in the morning.

My job is to pick up one of Addison Mills’ crew—a thief named Knox Beckett.

More details are supposedly coming, but I haven’t heard from her yet.

Addie is Ryland “Rip” Mills’ older sister.

And Ryland is a member of Ex Nihilo, which is the only reason I would leave a party for a rescue mission.

Okay, not the only reason, but a pretty solid one.

Ryland got a call from Addie during Brax’s reception about needing help.

Apparently, her thief got in some hot water while attempting to steal an emerald.

Now that Brax’s team is out of the woods, I don’t have anything tethering me to one place, so I jumped at the chance to get out of town.

Mostly, to clear my head and figure out what the hell I’m planning to do with the rest of my life.

Because my current trajectory is going to lead me to nothing but loneliness.

Something the party I left definitely put into perspective.

Feeling sorry for myself isn’t my style, so I turn my attention to what I can control. I’m in the middle of reviewing my flight instruments when my phone rings. “Pyro,” I answer.

“Hunter?” a feminine voice asks. “It’s Addie.”

“Hi, Addie.”

She clears her throat. “So, there’s been a bit of a snag.”

As much as I appreciate a clearcut plan, I’m also damn good at adapting.

Maybe the adrenaline junkie in me even likes when things occasionally go off the rails.

A good challenge keeps me on my toes and working at my highest level.

As a Navy pilot, that skill served me well. Hell, it still does. “What’s going on?”

“Knox got a little held up, but he’s on his way to the airport. At least, he was.”

“Was?” I echo.

“We lost comms. But he has his phone and I sent him your number. I told him to make contact with you the moment he could.”

“Does he have the emerald?” I ask. Ryland told me Knox tried to steal an emerald and then got into some trouble.

I have no idea if he succeeded in his plans, but I can’t say I’m too thrilled about helping him escape the country with something so valuable.

A manhunt for contraband tends to make things a lot more complicated.

“No,” she assures me, “Linc has it.”

“Linc?”

“Lincoln Decker, another member of my crew. He and Knox went down there together but got separated and things went downhill fast. Knox got detained briefly, but like I said, he should be on his way to the rendezvous point now.”

“Roger that.” I’m used to working with former military men and women who are highly organized. This group sounds like a circus.

“I really appreciate your help, Hunter. I know this was all thrown at you last minute, and we haven’t even met, so thank you.”

“No problem,” I say easily, but my mind keeps reminding me I’m helping a bunch of thieves.

The truth is, I’m starting to have some serious misgivings about accepting this job.

For one, it goes against my moral code. I’ve never stolen anything in my life, and I certainly don’t condone it.

Second, what if their lack of organization gets me in trouble?

Because, let’s face it, there’s such a thing as adapting to a changing situation, and then there’s trying to wade through someone else’s chaos without getting pulled under and drowning yourself.

Studying the horizon, I remember not everything Ex Nihilo did was exactly legit. They got involved in some sketchy shit, but they’re the best people I know. So, maybe not everything is always so cut and dry.

At least, that’s what I tell myself.

“I owe you,” Addie says.

“It’s fine. I’d do anything for Ryland. Your brother is a really good guy, and after what happened with his dad—uh, your dad…” Welp, that got awkward fast. “Anyway, I’ll get your man out. I’ve got a pretty good track record at swooping in and rescuing people.”

“Good to know. Thank you again, and Knox should be in touch soon.”

After we hang up, I grimace. For a second, I forgot Ryland and Addie share the same piece of shit father. What he did to them…

I shake my head. Musings for another time. Right now, I need to land this jet and prepare for my passenger. Then we turn right back around and get the hell outta Dodge.

Smooth as butter, the jet’s wheels touch down at El Dorado International Airport. The tower instructs me where to park, and there’s nothing left to do but wait for my passenger to arrive. In the meantime, I’ll do my post-flight check and refuel, because the sooner we get out of here, the better.

I know Addie said Knox doesn’t have the emerald, and I hope that’s the truth, because I’m not looking for any trouble. My job is to pick the guy up and get him back home. The last thing I want is to be caught up in an international conflict.

Shit. Maybe I shouldn’t have been so quick to offer to pick this Knox character up. For all I know, he has the entire Colombian Policía Nacional hot on his tail. Or worse, the cartels.

Too late now. I’m here.

Turning the engine off, I unclip my harness, grab my bomber jacket and open the exit door.

A cool breeze lifts the strands of hair framing my face, and I reach back and tighten my ponytail.

It’s cooler out than I would’ve imagined, but it feels refreshing.

Pulling in a deep breath, I lower the stairs and walk down.

My boots hit the tarmac and I lift my clipboard.

Step by step, I check the plane over, making sure everything is in tip-top shape.

Ever since I crashed my plane for Braxton and his team, I’ve been using the Slater Security jet.

Luckily, Dash Slater, a former Delta Force commander, is extremely generous and I have it on loan for the foreseeable future.

He and his wife Lake are also quite busy with their new son and currently not doing a ton of traveling.

Post-flight check complete, I glance down at my watch. Where is this guy? As if in answer, my phone rings and I pull it out of my inside pocket and swipe the bar over. “Pyro,” I answer briskly.

There’s a brief pause then a deep, smooth voice says, “I’m calling for Hunter.”

“This is Hunter.”

Another pause, and I’d be willing to bet this guy thought he was calling a man. Typical. I’ve had more than my fair share of dealing with people who’ve underestimated me because of my chromosomes. But I’m just as good of a pilot as, if not better than, most men.

“Hey, it’s Knox.”

“Do you plan on showing up to the airport any time soon?” I ask crisply. Waiting around is a part of my job, and normally I don’t mind, but my gut is telling me the sooner we leave Colombia, the better.

“Change of plans,” he says, and I frown.

“What do you mean?” I ask, suspicion lacing my voice.

“Unfortunately, I’m in a bit of a jam. Any chance you can pick me up?”

“I thought that’s what I was doing,” I respond dryly.

He clears his throat. “I can’t exactly get to the airport at the moment.”

Seriously? He wants me to play Uber? I make an annoyed sound and grit my teeth.

“You can’t just grab a taxi?” I clip out, tapping my clipboard against my thigh, and having no desire to drive through the city.

“Not at the moment, no. Sorry to put you out, Hunter,” he swiftly apologizes. “I know you’re doing me a huge favor, and I appreciate it. You have a lovely voice, by the way.”

His comment catches me off-guard, and I frown. “What?”

“Kind of smoky. Like my favorite top shelf whiskey.”

“I’m sorry, are you flirting with me?”

He chuckles and I get the impression he’s used to charming his way out of bad situations. Probably right into a girl’s panties, too. But I don’t have time to play footsie with this guy, and I’m completely immune to his razzle-dazzle bullshit.

“Maybe?” His deep laughter vibrates through the phone and, dammit, the guy sounds sexy as hell. I don’t need this kind of distraction. Not when I have a job to do.

Releasing an unhappy sigh, I glance over at the airport’s car rental office. “Where are you?” I reluctantly ask and, I swear, I can hear him grinning through the phone.

This was supposed to be an easy in and out. A quick favor.

So much for that.

Knox Beckett has officially become a pain in my ass.