Chapter 17
17
EMBER
The sound of the taking-off fighter jet is so powerful that it nearly blows me over. I feel its loudness through my bones even when the aircraft is still relatively far away from me on the other end of the runway. I watch on from the sidelines as the jet screeches up into the air at impossible speeds.
I’m waiting by the fence of the airbase, right along the runway. Planes land over my head. There’s a flurry of activity in the distance as engineers inspect a grounded jet. I’ve not exactly snuck in here – I’ve used my Penmayne media credentials to wrangle my way through security. I told them who I’m waiting for. They told me they’ll go and get him.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
The man walking toward me in full Air Force pilot uniform could be easily mistaken for a Penmayne, and that’s because he is one. Like his brothers, I have done my research into Royce Penmayne – the pilot ace of the family. His eyes are a coal black. His wavy, midnight-black hair is slicked back. He has the same arched eyebrows as Professor Spencer. He has that Penmayne square jaw and wide, muscular shoulders. He walks purposely across the field toward me with perfect posture... that natural Penmayne confidence.
And he’s got that gruffness of Connor - that hold-no-prisoners attitude I’ve really come to expect from the firefighter.
Royce is definitely a Penmayne, that’s for sure.
I thought I’d come and surprise the pilot with a journalist ambush at his airbase. I’m here for one reason – Connor . I’ve been thinking I might be able to squeeze some valuable information out of this guy about his grumpy firefighting brother, seeing as it’s a Herculean task to even chat with the man back in Crystal River.
But if he has the same toughness as Connor, then it might be equally as impossible to get anything out of Royce.
“Well, I was let in,” I reply to the fighter pilot. “You must be Royce. It’s nice to meet you.”
Like Connor, Royce doesn’t shake my hand. He simply stares at me menacingly. He’s taking me in. He’s apprehensive about this random girl.
“And who are you to be let in here?” he questions. “The guys in security were saying you were asking about me. I don’t take too kindly to people asking questions about me.”
“I’m Ember Mortensen. I work as a journalist for your father...”
Royce lets out a single derisory laugh.
Ha.
“Oh, I get it,” he says. “You want to ask me about my family?”
“Well, not exactly .”
“Then what do you want?” Royce asks, crossing his arms defensively. “Make it quick. I’ve got shit to do. I don’t even know how you were able to be let in here. This place is meant to be fucking airtight. I’m going to be giving someone a real dressing-down once we’re finished.”
Hm. Grumpy. Okay, so he is like his firefighting brother. I’ve come to expect this kind of resistance from a Penmayne. I’ve come to understand that they are one hell of a difficult family, to put it lightly.
“I want to find out about Connor,” I say. “That’s why I want to talk to you. That’s why I’ve traveled all this way here.”
Royce snorts and raises a brow at the mention of his sibling.
“You want me to talk about my brother? The one who doesn’t want anything to do with us? You want to find out about him ?”
“What are your thoughts about what he’s done?” I ask. “What do you think about him not wanting anything to do with your family and your father?”
The pilot sighs. He glances back at the hangars and then at his expensive-looking watch. He sighs again and narrows his eyes at me.
“I don’t blame my brother for doing what he has done, unlike my father or my other brothers,” Royce mutters. “They think he’s solely to blame for trying to cut ties.”
“So you agree with him shunning his family?” I ask.
“Yes. He’s a free man who makes his own life choices. And I do understand why he has done the things he’s done. If you’re snooping around, then I’m sure you’ve heard about... Arthur , correct?”
The name of the deceased Penmayne brother is hard for Royce to pronounce. Arthur was his twin. Apparently, they were inseparable. By all accounts, he took his brother’s death very, very hard – throwing himself into his military career and abandoning everything else. Royce had moved from the Air Force into commercial airliners for a while, but he’s now moved back to the more regimented life. The military suits a man like him. I’ve heard he now lives on base - a simple life for a man still grieving the loss of his twin.
In my research, I’ve read enough to understand that Arthur was the life and soul of everything and everyone, and Royce was the opposite. He’s grumpy and anti-social while his brother was gregarious and charismatic. But they were close, and he apparently blames himself for his brother’s crash.
Maybe his decision to return to the Air Force has been some kind of penance for what happened with Arthur.
But I don’t dare question Royce about any of this. I don’t want him to suddenly walk away before I have what I need.
“What’s Arthur got to do with Connor and shrugging off your family?” I ask the pilot ace softly.
Royce sighs. At least he’s more talkative than his firefighting brother.
“Everyone reacted differently to what happened with Arthur. It seems like Connor’s reaction was to retreat from the family and Father’s hold on him. I don’t blame him. I have my own issues with certain members of my family, too.”
“With whom?” I ask. “Just your father?”
Royce scoffs.
“No, not just him. If you must know, I have ongoing... issues with Arthur’s ex. Leila . She’s integrated herself into my family, and I don’t want anything to do with her...”
He practically spits out her name as if it’s a bad taste in his mouth.
I didn’t expect to hear about that. I wonder what’s caused that split between Leila and Royce.
He hates her?
“So you think Connor has withdrawn because of Arthur?” I question the pilot, trying to keep on topic before he runs back to his plane hangar.
“Yeah, that and the fact my father thinks that firefighting is not a real career worth pursuing,” Royce replies. “They’ve had some fiery exchanges about that, let me tell you. I’ve witnessed one or two blow-ups, and they ain’t pretty.”
“I bet. So, Connor resents his father for that? For his views on firefighting?”
“I believe so. Both Father and Connor can be so damn stubborn. Between those two it’s like watching two walls have a shouting match.”
“You’ve been really helpful, Royce,” I say. “Thank you.”
“What are you doing all this for?” Royce asks. “What’s your purpose here?”
“I’m writing an article about him,” I admit.
Royce lets a sly smile grace his hardened face.
“Commissioned by Father, I’m guessing?”
I nod.
“Yes.”
“Of course,” the pilot mutters. “Typical of him to keep prodding a son who doesn’t want anything to do with him.”
“I’m trying to get Connor to talk to me,” I say. “To sit down and have a real interview.”
Royce laughs. He really laughs.
“Seriously? Do you think he’ll talk? Out of all the people on this planet?”
“I bet I can get him to,” I say.
“It’ll be impossible to get Connor to talk to you, or to any other journalist,” Royce replies. “Or to anyone , for that matter.”
“That’s what Spencer told me,” I reply. “Almost word-for-word.”
“You saw Spencer?”
“Yep.”
“And what did you say to him?”
“I said I don’t think about things as impossible,” I say. “I’ll get Connor to talk to me. I know it.”
Royce laughs again.
“Good luck,” he says.
“Thanks, Royce.”
“I’ve gotta go back and defend our country. You go and try to talk to my brother. That’s probably a harder job than mine.”
“Oh, I will.”
“Yeah, you’re gonna need some real good luck, Ember. I’m glad I’m not in your shoes.”
I watch as Royce struts toward a plane hangar as another fighter jet comes in to land with all the power and sound to blow me over again. Royce seems totally unfazed by it.
I sigh and turn away from the runway.
Yep, this whole thing with Connor is proving pretty damn hard. Even for me.