Page 4 of The Pilot & the Athlete

“Waitin’ on you,” the blond responded.

Paul arched his eyebrows as if they were all beneath him. “You got the package.” He tilted his head toward Shay.

“Obviously,” Lyle said, stroking his fingers down her arm. “You two know each other?”

“I watched the Olympic qualifiers,” Paul said, meeting her gaze briefly. The depth of his chocolate brown gaze washed over her and instantly she felt safe and warm. Hope stirred inside her again. Paul did know her. He would rescue her; he was just setting up the rescue plan. Four tough criminal thugs against one hero. It wouldn’t be easy, but this was Lieutenant Paul Braven. If anyone could demolish these men and rescue her like a champion, it was him.

Would he object to a lingering kiss after they were safe? Paul had always been kind to her, but being seven years older and her brother’s friend, of course he’d never looked at her as a potential date. Then her brother Darian had blamed him forDarian’s fiancée betraying him and dying. She hadn’t seen much of Paul in the last eleven years.

Right now, his gaze trailed over her body, and he looked at her very similar to the way these other men had looked at her. “She’s even hotter in person.”

She recoiled at the change in his glance and his words. That didn’t sound like the Paul she remembered.

Was it not him? A lookalike? Or could he have sold out to the evil side of humanity? The tragic tale of military hero not feeling appreciated and giving in to the desire for wealth. Ditching his honor and ideals for bitterness and filthy lucre.

Not Paul. Oh, no! Her stomach pitched and bile crawled up her throat. She tried to swallow it down.

“She’s ours,” Lyle said, palming her arms and pressing her closer to him.

“Obviously,” Paul said, mocking him. “Sit down and buckle up. You can have your fun once we reach cruising altitude.”

“Sounds good,” Jaden said. “Thank you.”

Paul tilted his chin to Jaden, turned, and strode back into the cockpit without a glance her way. The door closed behind him like a death knell. Shay’s heart fragmented and cracked in that moment.

The pilot either wasn’t Paul or he’d sold his soul to the devil. How could that happen? How could a man as good and honest and gucci as Paul, a military hero, their town hero, be working for scum like this, for Big T? No matter her brother’s hangups and anger at his former friend, she’d always known Paul to be a loyal and fearless stud.

Tears streaked down her face.

She’d been terrified, shaking, screaming, fighting, and puking, but this was the first time she’d let herself cry tonight.The disappointment was too overwhelming. She’d had a glorious moment of faith and gratitude in heaven above when she’d seen Paul and he had looked at her.

Now … it was finished. Paul wasn’t her hero. He’d left her to the dogs to devour and rip apart. She was devastated, beaten. Her life was over. She didn’t even know what to pray for. All hope was lost.

Chapter

Two

Jonah yankedShay out of Lyle’s arms. He shoved her toward the closest chair, pushed her down, and grabbed her seatbelt. Clicking it in place, his fingers lingered on her abdomen. He leaned in close, and she wished she could vomit again.

She ducked her head, but he grabbed her chin and forced her face up toward his. So she pushed out a breath that she hoped smelled as horrid as her mouth tasted.

His leering expression changed to disgust. “You stink,” he snarled. “Lyle, give me a water bottle and some gum or a breath mint or something.”

The man hurried to the rear of the plane then back to them, handing over a water bottle and a box of breath mints.

Jonah opened the water bottle and poured some in her mouth. She swished it around and spit it in his face.

“Hey!” Jonah raised his hand to smack her. She instinctively wanted to recoil—she’d never had a man hit her before—but sheglowered at him instead. If she was going to die, she would die as an American Olympian, proud and brave, not cowering to scum like this.

His eyes narrowed. Instead of hitting her, he grabbed her jaw and cheeks and squeezed so hard her mouth involuntarily popped open. He dumped a dozen strong mints in her mouth. She gagged and prayed she wouldn’t choke. She batted at his hands. Lyle yanked her wrists down to her sides. Jonah sneered at her and forced her mouth to open and close, chewing up the mints.

Her breath no longer stunk. Her throat was now on fire, the minty taste so powerful it might keep him away. For a minute.

“Buckle up, please,” Paul’s voice said over the plane’s speakers.

It was Paul’s voice. ItwasPaul. How could he not help her?

Please, Father above. I need Your help. I need Paul’s help. Please.

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