Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Oh my god. Oh my god.
I scream, hit the gas and squeeze my eyes closed.
I know it’s coming. I know?—
Slam!
Holy crap, how did that truck get up so much speed and hit me with such force?
Slam!
Is that me screaming?
Slam!
Covering my head, I duck down in the driver’s seat.
Oh my god. I’ve gone through a black hole and landed in a terminator movie.
Slam!
I hold my breath, waiting on the next horrible impact, covering my face with my arms.
“Aria!”
Next to me, the driver’s door rips open.
“Aria! Goddamnit, are you okay?”
What?!
My brother’s voice barely cuts through the ringing in my ears. When I sit up, he’s there, reaching for me. Rain blows into the cab of the truck through the opening, soaking me again.
Dazed, I raise arms that feel like noodles.
It’s over. It’s over. I chant, coaxing my body down.
But Griff makes another kind of alarm race through me. He looks like literal hell. There’s a gash on his forehead. The broad width of his shoulders is rounded now, hunched and his eyes are squinted in pain.
“Griff, holy Jesus. Are you okay?”
Not only is my brother sick, he’s been in a plane crash.
“I’ll live.”
Nervous, I ask, “Did I save the man?”
He laughs, squeezes my arms and winces. “Yeah, hot mess, you saved him. It took me for-fucking-ever to get out of the plane, my damned ankle was trapped.”
“Oh, thank god, you’re okay. When that man tried to drag me away, all I could think about was that you were sick and possibly injured.”
I lean into my brother’s arms, my whole body vibrating from the tsunami of adrenaline inside me. “Is Brundage injured?”
“No, but he’s not getting out without the help of some serious heavy equipment.”
I realize that the man who saved me is standing behind Griff with rain pounding around him.
Outlined by darkness, he’s a monstrous stone column. His hands fisted by his thighs. Piercing me with two eerie ice-blue eyes that cut through the darkness.
The look on his face is one step shy of furious.
“You’re okay,” I say roughly.
Griff steps back when he realizes where I’m looking.
Locked on me like I’m a target, the stranger roars, “Are you fucking crazy , woman?”
Apparently. Because who in their right mind does what I just did?
I blow out a shaky breath and sag back into the driver’s seat of the stranger’s truck, beginning to shiver from being soaked to the bone. “I wasn’t going to let that guy run over you.”
His body is statue-still, but his eyes take in everything about me.
The intensity is unnerving.
Giving myself a shake, I ask a dreaded question. “What happened to both of those men?”
His expression darkens beneath the brim of his baseball cap. “I took care of them.”
Uh. Yikes.
My heart flops around behind my ribs. “As in killed?”
“They were going to kill you.”
Gulp.
Griff squeezes my wrist. “Thank god Scout showed up. I couldn’t get out to help you.”
A violent shudder rolls through me as they both watch me. When tears rise to my lashes, I have to look away.
“Thank you.” My words come out hoarse.
It’s impossible to control the shake in my hands as I wipe my eyes.
When I look at the stranger again, he’s not angry, he’s blank .
Cold.
Like he was there and now he’s not. Totally checked out.
Intense, awkward silence stretches out around us. The only sound is rain hammering down on the tarmac.
Finally, Scout’s shoulders rise and fall before he tips his chin up a notch. “Thank you. Don’t ever do any fucking thing like that again.”
The tension eases enough for me to take a quick inhale. “Hopefully I’ll never have to, but you’re welcome.”
I drag my eyes away from the withering glare he’s giving me and focus on my brother. “Griff, we need to get you to a doctor.”
He slowly nods, surprising me. “This fucking earache is killing me.”
“Scout,” I call across the space between us, “Do you know where we can get medical care for him at this time of the night?”
“I can make some calls.”
Griff rubs the side of his neck as he looks at the upside down plane. “Thanks, feels like I’ve got an icepick in the side of my head. But first we need to deal with that. The pilot is okay, but shaken up badly, and one of our team is trapped in there.”
Scout has a strange look on his face when he asks, “Who is diving with your team?”
“Aria.” Griff hooks a thumb my way, then with a displeased sound, he motions toward the plane. “Brundage is the other diver. We’re going to have to cut him out. He’s not injured, but we’re going to have to move some metal to get his big ass free.”
Scout, whoever the hell he is, gives me one more cold, angry look before he walks away. “Let’s get this done.”