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I couldn’t understand all the aviation language, but I understood the tone perfectly.
We were not making friends.
Nik finally looked away from his laptop.
“Keep moving,” he ordered.
I glanced around at the other men.
Less than ten minutes ago, they had been shooting cartel gunmen inside a private terminal. Now Nik was overriding an airport that seemed very determined to keep his aircraft on the ground, while everyone around him behaved as if this were an irritating scheduling problem.
A laugh threatened to escape me.
Maybe Lachlan’s entire brotherhood was insane.
The jet made another turn, bringing a broad stretch of runway into view outside my window. Whatever amusement I’d felt vanished, and Lachlan must have noticed the change in my face.
“Have you ever flown?”
I shook my head.
He leaned across me and tugged once on my seatbelt, checking the buckle himself before settling back.
“Takeoff’s a little loud, and the acceleration will push you into the seat. When we leave the ground, your stomach may drop for a second, and your ears may pop.”
“You make it sound delightful.”
His mouth curved.
“You’ll like the part that comes after.”
“Which part is that?”
“Looking down and realizing no one from El Salvador can reach you anymore.”
That silenced me.
His hand closed around mine.
A few seconds later, the pilot’s voice came over the intercom.
“Once we turn, we’re going. Everybody stay seated.”
Nik closed the laptop.
“Get us the hell out of here.”
The aircraft rolled onto the runway, and the engines surged.
The force pushed me firmly back into the seat, pulling a startled yelp from me as the world outside began rushing past faster than anything I had ever experienced.
Lachlan laughed softly beside me and tightened his fingers around mine.
Hangars blurred as pavement raced beneath us. The roar of the engines filled the cabin, and I could feel the vibration through my chest.
The nose of the jet lifted.
My stomach dropped so suddenly I sucked in a breath and tightened both hands around Lachlan’s.
