Page 44 of Her Last Hope
The wordsI want to live againchurned in her brain.
She held her stomach. The idea she could be pregnant terrified her on so many levels. If she were, she knew she’d want it. Love it.
She glanced at Nick, who looked in the other direction. She’d lost a husband.
He lost a wife and a child.
Not that she was comparing their pains, but shecouldn’t imagine what that could have been like. Regardless, the mere idea she was carrying his child warmed her body like a heated blanket on a cool winter night.
“Touch down in two minutes,” Ramey’s voice crackled over the headphones, snapping her thoughts to the present situation.
Nick undid his restraints and stood, flinging a duffel bag over his shoulder. “As soon as the chopper hits the sand, jump, keeping your head down.” He made a swirling motion with his hand. “Once Ramey is back up in the air, we’ll need to hightail it to the first checkpoint.”
“We’re sure Dylan is inside at the party?” How Dylan managed an invite to a private party at a criminal’s house, she could only imagine.
“He’s there,” Nick said, tapping his headphones. She removed hers and then unfastened her harness, making her way across the cargo hold, grabbing one handhold to the next, hoping she wouldn’t fall out.
The ocean roared to her right as the wind pushed the chopper inland. Only the moon and a few stars managed to break through the inky darkness.
She tried to swallow but couldn’t. It was like something too big was lodged in her throat, preventing her from getting air. Her hands shook as she gripped the side of the chopper, the sand coming up to greet them like a twister.
Nick took her hand, and they jumped. The swooping of the helicopter blades filled the air, and theroar of the engine rattled her brain. A split second later, the chopper faded off in the distance as she ran with Nick across the beach and to the mansion owned by Brett “Hollywood” Donaldson, an ex-porn star turned producer.
Once at the back gate, they crouched down behind the bushes. The sound of music and laughter filled the air. She peered over Nick’s shoulder as he pulled out his cell phone, tapping open a text from Dylan.
Nick held the cell up so she could read it too.
One guard at checkpoint. I’ll take him out when you’re here.
Nick quickly texted back.
Here.
She rested her hands on Nick’s shoulders, holding her breath, staring at the phone. The wind howled, rustling the bushes. What sounded like a smack, grunt, and thud echoed with the sound of branches hitting the metal fence.
The gate swung open, the wind catching it, shoving it backward against a brick wall. It bounced a few times. Dylan appeared in a pair of blue shorts and a button-down pink shirt, looking like the poster boy for some preppy clothing store. Ten degrees cooler and he’d have a sweater draped over his shoulders with the sleeves tied at his chest.
“Welcome to the party,” Dylan said.
Nick zipped open the duffel bag, tossing out a pair of high heels. “How’s that gun feel up your skirt?”
“Not as good as yours?” she shot back without thinking that statement through.
“Keep saying stuff like that and I’ll start calling youhonagain.” Nick smoothed down the front of his yellow button-down shirt sported over green shorts.
She looked him up and down.
“Like what you see?” Nick smiled.
“I’m impressed you can carry the style off,” she said, slipping her feet into a pair of three-inch fuck-me heels. “I think this makes me exactly your height,” she said.
“Would make it easy to hike up—”
“Let’s go, lovebirds,” Dylan interrupted his brother as he held the fence back. “Next rotation for guards is in two hours, so we’ve got some time.”
“Who else is inside?” Nick asked as they strolled up the walkway, his hand resting on the small of her back. The simple protective gesture could be taken as though he cared for her.
“Logan is in a tree near the pool house. Ramey’s got a drone above us,” Dylan said.
