Page 16 of Forced Proximity
Would she ramble when she finally learned who I was?
“Are we going to die?” she whispered.
That I didn’t like.
“Pilots are competent people,” I said, trying to soothe her worries.
But, at this point, I wasn’t quite so sure about the pilot’s competency when we continued to pitch from side to side.
She was being jerked around so much that I reached out and caught her hip on the opposite side of her and anchored her to my side.
She wrapped her arms around my arm, fear plain as day in her eyes, and gasped out a, “Thanks.”
Her voice sounded so damn breathy that despite the way we were in danger, my cock still managed to fill with blood.
It wanted her.
“Oh god.”
The plane went down even farther, and this time I had no chance of holding on to her or even myself.
The plane dropped significantly, and the oxygen masks deployed.
“Fuck,” I breathed as I reached up and pulled the mask down to cover Dru’s face.
She looked at me, eyes super wide, and said, “You were supposed to do yours first.”
I winked at her. “I like to live dangerously.”
That was the truth.
I liked to live dangerously.
I liked even more to live life free.
That was why I’d joined the Truth Tellers MC.
I liked the way they went through life. I liked their morals and values, and I knew that I could offer them my services.
I’d been lost in life, confused and in despair after my parents had died tragically in, ironically, a plane accident. Webber had taken one look at my lost self at eighteen and declared that I was his new mechanic. Little did he know that I’d had a job that’d been paying my way for years.
I’d taken that job, though.
Webber, our club president, had fed, clothed, and housed me for a solid year before I’d finally admitted that I was fully capable of doing it myself.
Our dynamic had switched, but I’d stayed, entrenched in the life the Truth Tellers had provided for me.
Now, there was nowhere else I’d rather be.
And now that the plane was literally fighting to stay aloft in the sky, I was man enough to admit that I needed the Truth Tellers.
If we made it out of this alive, I was going to quit politics.
I’d done what I’d set out to accomplish when I’d first started—getting rid of the disgusting filth that had been complicit in the abuse of my son.
I had no reason to be there anymore.
There was no way that I could change anything by myself.
