“Huh?” he asks, his gaze whipping toward me, his stare narrowed and full of suspicion. “What’s huh?”
“Oh, really. It’s nothing.”
“Start talking.”
I shrug, trying—and failing—to hide the smirk tugging at my lips. “It’s just . . . It’s kinda smaller than I expected. Like a tiny little version of a real one.”
“Small?” He gapes, looking personally offended. “My helicopteris not small.”
“Oh, no. Not at all,” I say sweetly. “I’m sure to you it’s enormous. Probably the biggest one you’ve ever seen.”
His eyes narrow further.
I tilt my head, studying the aircraft again. “It’s just . . . You’re the great Iron Viper, so I expected something a little more . . . intimidating.”
“My helicopter is perfectly respectable.”
“Mmm,” I hum, unconvinced. “I’m sure it has a great personality.”
He stares at me like he’s deciding whether to argue or shove me straight back into the burning car, and I simply pat his arm. “Don’t worry. Size isn’t everything.”
His jaw tightens.
“. . . It’s how you fly it.”
I laugh like a fucking hyena, clearly thinking I’m the most hilarious person alive, but the sound of the helicopter grows louder overhead, drowning out my laughter, the steady thump of the rotating blades beating against the night as it descends toward the clearing.
Gravel and loose sand whip across the ground, pelting my legs as the downdraft hits. “Shit,” I mutter, throwing an arm over my eyes as the storm of grit blasts toward us, feeling like a million needles attacking my body all at once.
Before I can turn away, a hand clamps around the back of my neck, and I’m yanked sideways, spun around, and folded right against Raiden’s chest. He takes the brunt of the flying debris, protecting me with his body as my face presses against his chest, the wind roaringaround us while the helicopter settles on the ground.
And that’s when it hits me.
I don’t just love this man.
I’m crazy, deeply, hopelessly in love with him.
CHAPTER 27
KIARA
Driving through the familiar streets of LA back to our apartment complex in the rental car Raiden’s been using since his Audi had an unfortunate incident with the Golden Gate Bridge, Raiden takes a sudden right, and I sit up straighter. “Where are we going?” I ask, certain that this is where he kills me, because literally nothing else makes sense.
“You’ll see,” he murmurs, a smirk resting on his lips.
I don’t like his evasiveness, but I also trust him with every second of the rest of my life. Which, in hindsight, could someday come and bite me right in the ass. But we’re rolling with the punches here and going along for the ride.
Still, I sink back into the seat and watch the city roll by through the windshield, the glow of streetlights sliding over Raiden’s face as hedrives. He doesn’t say another word, just keeps that smug little smirk tucked into the corner of his mouth like he knows something I don’t.
I hate when he does that.
A few minutes later he pulls into an industrial complex that looks like it hasn’t been updated since the late nineties. Security gate. Rows of metal storage doors. The kind of place people hide bodies. Or Christmas decorations. Honestly, it could go either way.
The gate slides open, and I do what I can to bite my tongue as Raiden drives through like he owns the place. He passes all the bigger units before pulling up outside a smaller one and cutting the engine.
We start getting out of the car, and I look down the row of units, more than impressed. “All of these are yours?”
His brows furrow, and he looks over the top of the car at me, meeting my stare. “No,” he says, pointing to the one directly in front of the car. “Just this one.”
