Page 64 of The Wrecked One

“With the storm?” I asked, and he closed one eye for a moment. “I feel like the FAA would say skydiving in this weather is a no-go. The rain at such a fast speed will hurt, and the visibility will be shit.”

He wasn’t a liar, but he was a master of the “art of the dodge” and went with a quick, “You have to trust me.”

“I do trust you, but not this weather. And I don’t want your dad trying to land a broken plane,” I shot out, surprised my tone had become a bit steadier. Somehow, with Oliver’s intense expression fixed on me, with zero worry crossing his face, I was managing to calm down from a ten to an eight.

“The skies are a bit clearer up ahead,” Sam said. “You’ll be jumping from there.”

I finally accepted Oliver’s offer to stand, but another bump sent my ass back to the seat. “What happens after we land? What if it’s in the woods or on a road? In a lake?”

“I’ll steer us the right way, I promise.” Oliver’s brows pinched as he asked, “Can I help you up?”

Aka, touch me. Asking permission, even now. Willing to move mountains if necessary to help me, absolutely zero ulterior motive.

“Yes,” I said with a nod, and he secured a strong hold of my forearm and hauled me upright to my feet. In that position, just like him, I had to remain semi-crouched so I didn’t smack my head on the ceiling.

Without letting go of me, he reached around the seat into a bag. “Here, put these goggles on. I don’t have helmets.”

“We’re at the right altitude now for the jump, and the rain is letting up,” his dad announced. “You better go. I’m going to radio down to Malcolm and have him follow the tracker in your chute so he can find you.”

“Malcolm’s the friend you trust?” That was the name they’d said before shit hit the fan with the storm, right?

“He’s an AF buddy of mine. We served together in the Gulf War,” Sam confirmed. “He’s the reason I moved up here. A paranoid fuck like myself. I promise, you’ll be in good hands with him.”

“Oh-okay.” I swallowed, doing my best to calm the hell down.

Oliver let go of me so I could put on the goggles, then he helped me step into a harness.

Jumping from a plane. Holy shit. This can’t be happening. Annnnd just like that, I shot back to a ten on the panic scale. “Are you sure about this? What if we take our chances and stay with your dad?”

“I’m sure.”

By the door now, Oliver gave me a firm nod and finished strapping me to his body in preparation for the tandem jump. I was now attached to him at four points with nowhere to go but down.

“You’ll be lying on the air, and I’ll be on top of you. When we go to land, the parachute will glide us forward, and I’m going to slide us gently in on our asses, okay?”

“Ten thousand feet down and sit on my ass. Yeah, okay.” In a bit of a daze, I repeated my version of what he’d said back to him, unsure if he heard me over the hum of the engine and the control-panel-beeps. Needing to make eye contact to channel his confidence in hopes it’d help mine, I looked up over my shoulder at him.

“Once I open the door, I’m going to lean forward, and I need you to lift your head toward your right shoulder to prepare yourself for the fall.” The man was so patient with me, despite the need to hurry. “You’re brave. Strong. Amazing. Don’t forget that.” He reached around my body and gently cupped my chin, brushing his thumb along my jawline in soothing motions.

Sam placed the plane on autopilot so he could shut the door behind us, which meant we had to hurry.

“Brave. Strong. Amazing,” I whispered, feeling safe against him, with his hands on me, despite what we were about to do.

I closed my eyes and followed Oliver’s orders, placing my faith in him, then did something I’d never planned to do in my life.

Jumped from a freaking plane.

25

OLIVER

“Run. Get away. Run,” Mya murmured as I held on to her.

Her face was screwed up tight, as if in the throes of a nightmare. It killed me to see her in pain, far more than the burn in my arm and the ache in my jaw.

We’d landed in the thick of the woods, and I was fairly certain we were on the other side of Emerald Lake. Thankfully, Malcolm was tracking the transmitter I’d removed from the chute and shoved into my pocket after I’d cut us free when we’d not-so-gracefully fallen onto our asses.

It had been hard to navigate with Mya unconscious, arms and legs dangling limp while attached to me, so we’d had a tough landing.

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