Page 76 of Her Devils

Time, distance, speed.

It’s important not to forget this because the order of the task changes determines a draw.

During the time task, I need control. I have to fly with the slowest possible fall rate through the competition window that starts at seven hundred and sixty-two feet and ends at four hundred and fifty-seven feet. My GPS will tell me when I’m in the window.

It seems like a lot, but it really isn’t when you’re fighting to slow your fall to the ground.

The distance task is self-explanatory. I need to cover the greatest possible distance through the same competition window in a straight line over the ground.

The last task is the speed task, and unlike the speed skydiving event when you dive headfirst, I have to fly at the maximum speed horizontally over the ground through the competition window.

This first flight of the first round is the time task, and I’m here in the moment. This task is nothing but a fight against nature. Gravity wants my body to fall fast, and that’s where my wingsuit is a determining factor, together with my skill.

I’m wearing the best available suit on the market, which, ironically, is made by the company owned by the Cove Angels.

Of course their actual competition suits are slightly different from what they sell to other professional skydivers. They keep the best, more cutting-edge technology to maintain their edge during competitions.

I can’t even blame them. The research and development necessary to keep improving takes time and costs millions. The vision necessary to create cutting-edge wingsuits is part of what made Lenley’s Dad a legend.

No one compares to his technical abilities to this day, and that’s one of the things I admire most about him and why I want to emulate him and design my own revolutionary wingsuit.

Lenley.

The second I think about her, everything around me disappears. Fuck. I have to stay focused, but her green eyes are what’s burned not only behind my eyelids, but on every inch of my skin and in every cell of my body.

She’s like a tattoo where the ink has gone so deep through the layers of skin that she’s entered my bloodstream.

Channing and Jameson might have feelings for her, and how can I fucking blame them?

Chan is livid with me for pushing Lenley to kiss Penn and tease him. He doesn’t get it. Sure, I want to rub his face all over the fact that he can’t really have her and thatI had her first.

But I’m not that delusional to think that who had her first matters more than who’s going to have her last.

I’m competitive by nature, but while I can control my body and defy gravity, I can’t control her heart.

If she wants Penn, no deal can change that, and I wouldn’t even want to keep her from the man she loves.

Do I think Penn deserves her? Fuck no.

But neither do I nor my brothers.

I’ve always thought that the saying, “If you love someone, set them free,” was bullshit, but maybe there’s some truth to it.

If Lenley chose me over Penn, I’d want it to be with her eyes wide open because she wantsme, not because she thinks she can’t have the one she really loves.

I won’t use our deal to keep her from finding happiness, even if that’s with that scumbag.

I will, however, use that deal to torture the asshole who hurt Lenley and my career as much as I can.

If she chose me?

I can’t even let myself think that way. My brothers’ feelings hang in the balance too, and I don’t know if I could ever be happy knowing they are miserable.

No, she needs to be free and see who the man she’s loved her whole life really is.

When he inevitably fails her, I’ll be here to dry her tears and make her feel better the same way I was the night we met.

I might not be boyfriend material, but I know loss and heartache, and I’ll fight that battle with her.

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