“Same thing.”
“It’s not.”
“Your family, friends, your guard, everyone lied to you. They are no saints.” My arms open in exasperation.
“It’s not the same.” She shakes her head. “Yours hurts the most. You have to let me go.”
“I don’t think so, princess.” Hugo steals my words, walking up the concrete slope with a sly grin. “We need you to calmdown before you go running off to your family, causing trouble.”
“I’m leaving,” she declares, edging away.
“Your pilot isn’t getting anywhere near the bird.” Hugo motions toward the Etheridge pilot in his Jeep, outside the walls.
Her lips curl up on one side, the smug—she’s up to no good—expression brightening her face, and my pulse races.
“I’m borrowing this.” She motions at my gun, taking a step back, then another.
Behind her, a mechanical click followed by a high-pitched whine cuts through the air, growing faster.
“Eva,” I shout, still not sure what she’s up to. “You are not safe out there alone.”
Her eyes flash to me, light bleeding through the fractures. “Be a gentleman for once and give me a head-start, okay?”
I shake my head.
“What’s she playing at?” Hugo asks.Who the fuck knows?
Eva runs to the helicopter. My feet glue to the concrete as she throws herself into the pilot’s seat, puts on the headset, and starts working the dashboard. Loud blades start to rotate, the ground shaking beneath our boots as the helicopter rises clean off the helipad and sharp blasts of air thrash our faces.
“Okay, I did not see that coming.” Hugo snorts as she slowly climbs out of my reach.
Me neither.My gaze tracks her ascent as they rise above the trees, terrified the bird will fall out of the sky any second. It doesn’t.
“I keep forgetting who she is,” I mutter.
“Speaking of which…” Hugo holds up the screen of his phone. “Guess who just arrived in Fort?”
The screen shows the security feed of Grant Manor. Daniel Etheridge is walking in, followed by his bodyguards.
“What now?” Hugo raises an eyebrow.
“Give me your gun.” I hold my palm out.
For the first time, Hugo doesn’t seem excited at the idea of violence. But he digs into his pocket and puts his pistol in my hand anyway.
“Careful, Mase. She won’t forgive you if you hurt him,” he warns as I head back to my bike.
“Then she should have stayed by my side, where she belongs.”
Since she didn’t, whatever I have to do to get her back is collateral damage she gets to live with. Because there is absolutely nothing I won’t do to get her back.
37
KANE
Four Monthsago
This is a fucking mistake.
