Risky Romance (Wolf Security #4)

15. Grant

CHAPTER 15

Grant

My knuckles blanching as my grip on the chopper controls tightened. My gaze shot between the sunset’s bloody smear and the rifle quaking in John’s hands. Would he really shoot me midair?

“I’ve been your fucking puppet for decades,” he snarled as sweat carved trails down his temple. His eyes burned, wild and unhinged. “I’m. Fucking. Done.”

Shit, he’s losing it.

“You’re not done until I say you are.” My voice was ice, but my heart pounded like a jackhammer. “We need to keep the operation running.”

“Fuck the operation!” The rifle barrel jerked up and the cold muzzle kissed my flesh. “I’m not your goddamn pawn anymore.”

“You can’t just walk away, John. It’s your farm. You’re in this as deep as I am.”

A manic laugh erupted from him. “You think I’m stupid? I transferred the land to Cody years ago. If he dies out here, who cares? I’ve got enough stashed to disappear forever.”

My mind reeled, but I kept my voice steady. “You’re delusional if you think it’s that easy. You’ll never get away.”

He laughed. “You’re not the only one with secrets, Thomas.”

My jaw dropped.

He laughed harder. “That’s right, Thomas Apollo. I know who are. I’ve known for years.”

“But . . . but how?”

“Frank Morgan.”

Frank Morgan was Aria’s father—the woman who led Alpha Tactical Ops. They were the same team that had taken down my brother and had come damn close to finishing me off as well.

“Frank and I go way back. We were in the army together. I knew him before he got hooked up with Chui.”

Fucking hell. When will the lies end?

“You should see your face.”

“Shut up. Just shut up.” The beeping fuel indicator pierced my ears like ice picks.

“When Frank convinced me to do the drug plant, he told me all about you. Let’s just say it was my leverage. Just in case I needed it.” He cocked his head, and the sunlight pierced his black pupil. “If I go down, I’m taking you with me.”

Panic clawed at my throat.

“Take me to the farm,” John said, adjusting the angle on the rifle so it aimed at my hip.

“Where’s Bruce?” I demanded, trying to buy time.

“He’s, um, how shall I say, taking care of a few things.”

“What things ? He can’t destroy the lab.”

“Yes, he can. Now take me to the farm.” He raised the rifle, showing me the end of the barrel.

“Fuck you!” I yelled.

He adjusted his grip, so his finger pressed against the trigger.

I scoffed. “You’re not going to shoot me, dickhead. You need me to fly the chopper.”

John lunged for the joystick, and the cockpit tilted violently.

“Let go, you fucking idiot!” I rammed my palm into his face.

He punched my cheek, and the sting radiated in my ears. I gasped, dazed.

What the fuck!

He grabbed the joystick again and the chopper lurched. Gravity dropped out beneath us.

“Let go!” Panic surged through me as I fought to regain control.

He tightened his grip, his eyes wild and enraged.

I wrestled with the control. The chopper dipped and swung left like it had been kicked by a monster.

John shoved the barrel of the gun into my cheek.

“Take me to the farm,” he snarled.

“Shoot me and we’re both dead,” I barked.

“If you don’t take me to the farm?—”

I yanked the joystick hard, dropping the chopper, and thrust the gun away from my face.

The rifle exploded. The deafening bang shredded my eardrum. A bullet punched a hole in the cockpit windshield.

“Fuck!” I yelled as the chopper plunged.

Wind whistled through the shattered glass, adding a high-pitched squeal to the whirring rotor blades as I fought for control.

John dropped the gun. He pressed both his hands to the cabin roof, bracing himself as the chopper bucked beneath us like a wild animal.

“I’m losing it,” I screamed, struggling to wrench back control. It was too late. “We’re going to crash!”

The rifle catapulted over to my side and slammed into my arm.

The chopper spun like we were caught in a turbine.

The ground rushed up to meet us. I braced for impact.

Spinning, we slammed into the ground. Every bone in my body jarred as I was thrown forward. Metal screeched as the rotors carved into the underbrush. One blade sheared off and speared into a tree. The other blade snapped in two and slammed into the cockpit.

John screamed in agony like I’d never heard before.

The cockpit crashed into the ground. I howled as raw agony ripped through my legs. My forehead slammed into the joystick and searing pain scraped through my right eye. Everything went silent.

Blinking through a red haze, I pushed myself back from the controls. Blinding fire raced up my legs like they were gripped in red hot pliers.

I blinked back throbbing pain, trying to orientate myself. The helicopter lay on my side, with the cabin embedded in the damp ground.

Smoke curled into the air, bitter and acrid.

A groan tumbled from my throat.

“John,” I called but my voice was barely a whisper.

I tried to move but my legs were pinned in the twisted wreckage.

A screech of metal pierced the silence.

“John.” I turned toward the passenger seat. The shattered rotor blade speared into the gap between John and me.

John groaned.

“John. I’m stuck. Help me.”

He made a noise like his neck was broken.

I peered over my shoulder, just able to see him moving. Blood poured from his arm, and it took me a moment to realize his arm had been severed from the elbow down.

A wave of nausea surged through me, and I vomited over my arm, splattering onto the shattered side window.

John’s moans got louder.

“John. You need to help me. I’m stuck.”

“Fuck you!” he spat, his voice was shrill, unhinged.

Tears stung my eyes. “Please. I need help.”

Glass shattered as he kicked away the windshield.

“What’re you doing?” The glass dissolved into a million pieces.

John crawled over the edge, leaving a bloody trail in his wake.

“John! Come back here, you bastard.”

He staggered away, tilting his body at an odd angle.

“John! Don’t leave me here. Please!”

He disappeared into the bushes.

Smoke danced in front of me like angel’s wings.

Or maybe it was the devil, letting me know that this was the end for me.