Page 62 of The Wrecked One

I rolled my eyes dramatically despite our situation. “Of course I know what it is. I’m just surprised your dad has one, I guess.”

“Yeah. Well, he flies it. I jump.” His statements were quick facts punching the air, striking me hard.

“I’m sorry, what? We’re going to fly out of here?” I was only afraid of heights when it came to jumping from things—like into rivers, holes, and for sure, from planes. “Tell me he plans to both take off and land?” Or maybe with Carter’s other guys here, we wouldn’t have to even board.

He ignored my questions, which didn’t bode well. At least the storm had let up. Barely a drizzle now. It’d left as fast as it’d come.

Without slowing down, he flew around a corner, taking us onto a main road. He moved the truck between two other cars, and when I looked back the two SUVs were slowing down a bit. We had eyes on us now. Witnesses.

Good thinking.

“I’ve got you, Mya,” Oliver rasped. Realizing he was looking at me, I shifted on the seat to do the same. Meeting my eyes, he promised, “I won’t let them, or anyone, ever touch you again.”

24

MYA

“He’s coming. Don’t worry,” Sam promised as I remained glued to the door inside the small white-and-blue Cessna.

Oliver, Teddy, and Easton were crouched behind some type of concrete barrier, using it for cover as they engaged in a firefight with six men. Well, down to five after a headshot took out one of the guys.

They were all that stood in the way of those assholes getting to the plane. A plane with only four seats. And while there were five of us, I’d sit on someone’s lap if it meant we all got out of there alive.

Sam, as well as our backup, had beaten us to the small runway hidden in the middle of nowhere, but Oliver only had enough time to get me over to his dad and on the plane before the two SUVs following us had arrived.

His dad tossed him an M4 rifle, and instead of joining me on the plane, Oliver went to work with Teddy and Easton to try and take out the bastards.

“That’s my boy.” Sam smacked the wall when another jerk went down.

“How do you know Oliver made that shot?” We couldn’t see who was who behind the concrete. And that was a good thing—it meant the enemies wouldn’t be able to, either.

“I just know, trust me.” His dad gestured toward the cockpit. “I need to get up there and prepare for takeoff.”

“Not without Oliver, right?” Please tell me Oliver didn’t plan to stay behind to hold these guys off only so I could escape. We were not doing that again. No more sacrificing himself for me. Hell no.

“Once they’re down to two tangos and it’s a fair matchup, I’m sure those guys will give him cover so he can make a run for it to us.” Sam was far too casual, and it made my head hurt to process how he could be that way.

Do you want him to be a hot mess and panicking? My thoughts could piss me off sometimes, but this time . . . that voice in my head was right.

“And now they’re down to three. One more, and Oliver will come.” Sam’s eyes were lit up like a kid watching his favorite action flick. Maybe he missed the thrill of combat, hell if I knew. But he didn’t seem worried at all that anything would happen to Oliver, so I was going to try and force myself to feel the same.

Unbothered? Not possible. But not panicking? Maybe I could do that.

Sam kept his head low as he shifted around to the front of the plane and strapped in. He began flipping switches and checking gauges, doing whatever it was that pilots did to fly. In all the planes I’d been in, even the private ones, I’d never been one to pay attention to everything that happened up front. And after seeing all the levers, buttons, and displays, I wasn’t sure I wanted to. Sam definitely had his hands full.

I shifted gears, eyes back out the door and onto the three men hiding behind their SUVs a hundred or so feet away, still facing off with Oliver and the others. They’d yet to shoot at the plane, and I assumed that was thanks to Oliver, Teddy, and Easton keeping them otherwise occupied. The bad guys didn’t want to become the next red blood stain on the runway, but too bad for them we had superior sniper skills on our side. Thank God.

Just as Sam called it, when there were only two assholes left standing, Oliver shifted around the concrete block and Teddy and Easton covered him. He walked backward, continuing to shoot toward the SUVs, moving in a way I’d seen him do so many times on past operations.

When he gained ground, he turned and began sprinting for me. I jolted in shock and fear as a few shots pinged off the plane, but at least they didn’t connect with Oliver.

“You okay?” Oliver jumped inside the plane and closed the door behind him.

“I’m fine. Are they not coming?” I was the one panting, despite the fact it’d been Oliver running while dodging bullets, not me.

“No, they’re going to cover us so we can take off. They have orders from Carter to keep one alive for questioning. I don’t want to risk keeping you here any longer. They’ll be fine, don’t worry.” He directed me to sit and buckle up.

This was one time I didn’t argue and did as he instructed. As I got settled into one of the rear seats, he climbed around me into the front.

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