Chapter Fifteen #2
“I’m glad I broke it too,” I murmur. “I expected that shit from Luke, but not quite so harsh from Andi.” I sigh. “Are you ready to face the wrath of Typhoon Luke?”
He chuckles, low and calm. “Let’s just do this.”
I let go but reach for his hand, and he takes it without hesitation, lacing our fingers together as his other hand comes up to smooth over my hair.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
Mercs nods, flashing a quick smirk. “Can’t have you walking out there with just-fucked hair, now can we?”
I chuckle and turn to the door, taking a moment to center myself with a breath.
I need all the calming energy I can summon.
Then I open it and step out into the narrow hallway.
No one’s here yet, thank fuck, and I lead Mercs into the main cabin, heading past Swift Division, who are always seated at the back.
Jett glances up as we walk by, but his expression doesn’t give anything away. Mercs’ grip tightens in mine as we continue, moving forward toward the rest of the crew. Tank and Jay are the first to notice our linked hands, and their matching grins say everything.
“Woohoo! ‘Bout fucking time you two came out of the bathroom,” Tank calls, loud enough for everyone to hear.
All heads turn—including Luke’s.
Suddenly, I feel self-conscious.
And I never feel self-conscious.
Luke stares at us from his seat, chewing harshly on a pen that juts out from his mouth. His eyebrows draw together, and his eyes burn with an intensity I haven’t seen in a long time. I pick up the pace, Mercs at my side, our joined hands firm and unshaken.
Luke’s steely glare locks with mine, and I swear it pierces straight through me. He pulls the pen from his mouth with a sharp pop, leans back in his seat, rubs his jaw, and says…
Nothing.
Alana watches with wide eyes, her concern plain as she leans forward, clearly feeling the tension ripple through the air.
Then Mercs squares his shoulders and speaks, calm but unflinching. “Luke, I know you didn’t want this to happen, but we’re not kids. We don’t need parenting. If we mess this up, that’s on us. But I want to give this a real go with Vespa.”
Alana’s eyes go wide, then a knowing smile curls her lips. She knows I don’t let many people use my real name.
Mercs continues, steady and firm. “I’m not in this for a fling.
This isn’t some four-month tour thing that ends when the curtain falls.
I want to be with her for as long as she’ll have me.
We’ll make mistakes. She will… I will… but trying to keep us apart will only make it harder.
We have chemistry. We have a connection.
I’m not backing away. So you can either let this happen and see where it goes, or you can fire me and find someone else to run your lights. Your call.”
My head whips to the side, eyes flaring at Mercs.
That was not part of the plan.
He just told Luke to fire him?
Fucking hell.
Fucking, fuckity fuck.
The entire plane falls silent, the only sound that low, steady hum of the engines beneath us.
I squeeze Mercs’ hand so tight I might be cutting off his blood flow. I feel his calm, resolute energy radiating beside me, and it only makes my panic stronger.
He meant what he said.
He would walk away from this job if it meant being with me.
The weight of that truth swells in my chest, but causes panic in my brain.
Luke clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, then slowly exhales, shifting his gaze between the two of us. He licks his lips and stares. Waiting, measuring, the tension is so heavy, I can hear my pulse in my ears.
The power play between them is real.
Mercs stands strong.
Luke glares back.
It’s a silent war of wills, and I’m caught in the middle, seconds from imploding.
Then Luke flares his nostrils and grunts out the word, “Okay.”
One word.
No expression.
Mercs smiles, but I blink in disbelief.
“Sorry… what?” I ask, cautiously.
Mercs squeezes my hand, silently telling me to let it go.
Luke still doesn’t look at us. “I said okay. Don’t push it, Effa. I’m not happy. I don’t condone this. But Mercs, if you treat her right, if you’re serious, then fine. Just don’t fuck it up. And don’t come crawling to me when it all fucking blows up.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me?” Andi snaps from behind him, her voice a sharp blade in the tense air.
Casey reaches over, tugging at her arm in warning. “This is a fucking joke, right?” she mutters, shoving in her earbuds and turning to the window.
“Thank you, Luke,” Mercs says calmly. “Like I told Alana, if things go south, I won’t walk. I’ll finish the tour. I always keep my word.”
Luke scratches his forehead and nods once. “Good to know. Now, will you two fuck off? I’ve got a show to plan.”
I flash Alana a small smile, and she grins back as Luke turns to scribble something in his notepad.
We make our way down the plane to a spare row of seats near Swift Division.
Mercs takes the window, and I slide in on the aisle.
He pulls me into his side, wraps an arm around my shoulders, and presses a kiss to the top of my head.
“That was intense,” I whisper.
He chuckles. “I was concerned about Luke’s reaction at first, but I think I’ve figured him out. If you throw his own energy back at him, he respects it. He responds to strength and honesty. He doesn’t tolerate weakness.”
“Yeah, that sounds like Luke,” I agree.
“But enough about him. We’re together, and I’m fucking happy about that.”
I lean in to kiss him softly. He kisses me back with more force, sending sparks across my lips. When we break the kiss, he tugs me closer, and I melt into him completely, resting my head beneath his chin.
Then I glance up…
And Jett is staring at me.
His gaze is darker than I’ve ever seen it, and his irises are so black they nearly bleed into his pupils. His scowl is tight, sharp, almost terrifying. My breath catches when we lock eyes. The energy between us doesn’t crackle as it does with Mercs, it damn-well freezes.
And just as quickly as it started, Jett looks away.
But that chill stays with me.
Something in his expression just now…
Tells me this isn’t over.
Whatever’s brewing with Jett?
It’s only just getting started.