She considered how far she was willing to go when a friend’s life was on the line. Would she go to jail or in an unmarked grave in the desert? “What about the police or the FBI?” she asked. “Surely someone could help you.”
“The Los Vitas cartel is a ruthless organization with ties everywhere. And they own everyone. Politicians, lawyers, movie stars…even corporate heads. So going to the cops has never been an option. They decapitate their rivals, mutilate corpses, and dump them in public places. Like I told you, Sky, I didn’t have a choice then and I sure as hell don’t now. But I do have some good news to share.” Dylan sat down across from her. “I heard that Julian’s boss told him to back off. And thanks to you, Mateo is locked away for the time being.” He threw back the last of his beer and feigned a smile. “My connection in Vegas knows I had to postpone a delivery because of my clipped tail and engine trouble. He also knows that I’ve got a mechanic working on them right now, along with some modifications.”
Her gaze traveled over his face, as she debated on his trustworthiness. “What kind of modifications?”
“I’m having some of the flooring reinforced for carrying extra cargo and swapping out tires for sketchy terrain. When it’s ready to go, I’ll notify my connection and he’ll meet me at the airport with GPS coordinates.”
“What are you transporting?”
“Mainly marijuana. But I’ve been told there might some coke on this load as well.”
“Unreal.”
“I know. I’m scheduled to fly out on Friday, but I swear to God it’s my last trip. In spite of Julian’s threat, I’m planning to take Lily to Central America when I get back…if she’ll have me anyway. I’m hoping to start our lives over again and to get as far away from these people as possible.”
“Really? You don’t think they’ll come after you?”
“Not if they value their freedom.”
“What do you mean?”
“For the last two months, I’ve been taking pictures of corrupt cops and government officials…all my drug connections in Mexico and in the U.S. Plus, I’ve been recording conversations on and off my plane.”
“That’s crazy. You could have been caught.”
“Yeah, I know. But I’m always careful, and what’s more, the package with all the evidence I collected is going to be handed over to a reporter at the Gazette. A woman I’ve been in touch with for the last three weeks. She’s the key to clearing my name and putting The Chaplain out of business.”
“The Chaplain?”
“Yeah. He’s the brains behind the Los Vitas cartel. We haven’t officially met, but my connection in California knows all about him. He told me if I wanted a future to stop asking questions and just follow directions. And that’s what I’ve been doing. But things are going to change.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely. And that package I told you about is going to make all the difference. Which brings me to my dilemma. Is there any chance you’d be willing to deliver it if needed?”
“Ah, man. I don’t know about that…”
“I wouldn’t ask you if it wasn’t absolutely necessary. I just don’t think there’s anyone else I can trust.”
Skylar leaned back in her seat, shaking her head again. “I don’t want to be responsible for anything happening to you.”
“Believe me, neither do I. But the only way for The Chaplain to cut me loose is to see me as a threat. And from what I hear, he’s a reasonable man…when money and security are at stake.”
Reasonable? Is that the word people were using now, for someone slashing throats and branding bodies? “What about that other guy?” she asked. “Alvarez? Aren’t you planning to work for him next?”
“Oh, yeah. Well, I really can’t go into that right now.”
“Then I really don’t think I can help you.”
Dylan touched her arm. “It’s just one job. Something I promised my dad I would do. When it’s done, that’s it. No more high flying for me.”
High? As in dope? Shady flying was more like it.
Ironically, Dylan sounded like an alcoholic, like her drug addicted mother. Just one more hit, I promise. Just one… Isn’t that what she said over and over again?
“Is it all about the money? Or is it the people who matter? I’d really like to know where you’re coming from.”
Dylan ran his hand through his hair. “You have to understand, Sky. I’ve been working since I was thirteen, and all I’ve got to show for it is this house and that old car in the garage. No one’s hiring legit pilots anymore and the only jobs paying anything involve contraband. All the rich executives, rock stars, and actors in this town have their own planes with their own pilots. I know it sounds stupid and selfish, but flying is all I think about. It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.” He looked at her with pleading eyes. “Just tell me I can count you, Sky. I wouldn’t ask you to do it if there was any chance of you being harmed.”
She hesitated before slowly nodding.
“So, that’s a yes?” he asked.
“I guess so.” Holy shit, what did I just get myself into?
“Thank you, Sky. I’ll never be able to repay you. Not ever.”
“I just hope your friend appreciates what you’ve done for him.”
“Oh, he does. And besides, there isn’t anything in this world I wouldn’t do for Ethan Edwards.”
Skylar’s eyes widened in disbelief. Was he talking about her Ethan? Jake’s mechanic and friend? She’d known for years. He just tooled around in his shop every day, exuding concern over her welfare and safety, which made perfect sense now.
Oh, yeah. Ethan Edwards. What a history he turned out to have.
“Okay, then.” Dylan clapped his hands together. “Let’s call it a night. You take my room and I’ll make up the couch.”
Skylar started to argue, and he stopped her. “I get the couch. It’s more comfortable than it looks. And help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge, though I don’t expect much to be there.”
Skylar glanced at the turquoise Danish modern sofa with its narrow arms and wood peg legs. It was by far the most rigid piece of furniture she’d ever seen. “Are you sure?”
“No discussion. Now go get some sleep and I’ll—” He was cut off by a sudden scream and a thud against the front door. He pulled a handgun out of the end table drawer and ordered her to get behind him. Then he looked through the peephole.
Oh, my God! Skylar’s heart was racing. She never expected to see a gun, let alone her father holding one. She bit her lip and stayed behind him, peeking out like a frightened child.
The door slowly opened, revealing a bald-headed, muscle-bound man with an angry pout on his face. “Sir, I hate to complain,” he said, “but I got home from work ten minutes ago and my wife met me at the door. She said there’s been some kind of ruckus going on over here. Normally, we just mind our own business, but she wanted me to make sure everyone was all right over here.” He was obviously talking about Dylan’s future father-in-law’s crazy outburst and had been waiting until it was safe to come over.
“Yes, of course,” Dylan said. “Sorry for the inconvenience.” He ignored Skylar’s incredulous look at his gun and shut the door. Then he turned around and flashed a quick smile. “False alarm. I usually keep a gun in my car for protection. I brought it inside to clean it and forgot that I—”
Skylar closed the gap between them and wrapped her arms around him. She buried her head in the crook of his neck and could feel his chin resting on the top of her wet hair. “For a second there, I thought we were done for.” She broke away from him and smiled, wondering what the hell she was thinking. He would never understand her need to be close to him—understand what it felt like to be with an absent father. “Thanks for letting me stay here,” she said simply, not knowing what else to say.
Dylan’s eyes flickered down to her lips then back up. “You’re welcome,” he replied, smiling softly. “Go get some sleep, Sky. You’ve got nothing to worry about.
I’ll make sure of it.”
It took her a few seconds to regain her composure, but when she finally did, she whispered, “Thank you, Dylan.” She desperately wanted to tell him the truth—to say that she was his daughter and had miraculously traveled back in time to save him. But then it would have destroyed any opportunity to know him better, and she wasn’t willing to risk it.
Dylan seemed to sense her anxiety. “It’s not a requirement to bail me out to stay here,” he said gently. “I won’t be angry if you change your mind. I can try to find someone else that might be willing to—”
“No, it’s okay. I want to help you.”
“Are you sure? It’s not an easy thing I’m asking you to do. I mean, Julian’s men could be watching and—”
“I’m a lot stronger than you might think, Dylan. Like I said, I’ll do anything for my friends. Especially when they’re good people.”
“Thank you, Sky. You won’t regret it. I promise.”
She walked towards his bedroom and closed the door behind her. The warmth of his arms around her had awakened a strange need—a sense of father-daughter comforting she had never experienced before. She could still faintly smell her father’s musky cologne in the air and on his shirt, making her smile. But their dilemma remained unchanged. Dylan and the tender feelings he evoked would soon be gone if she didn’t come up with a solution—a way to keep him from taking his next trip to Mexico.
But how?
She turned off the light and crawled into bed, and before long, she fell into a deep sleep. In her dream, she witnessed Dylan being beaten—heard him screaming out in pain. She wanted to help him—needed to get to him, but she physically couldn’t move. All she could do was stand by and watch. She opened her mouth to scream for them to stop, but her voice was gone. Her eyes widened in fear as one of the men took out a gun and jammed it against Dylan’s head. Her father called out her name, but all she could do was watch. Then a man with striking blue eyes and the perfect circle beard turned to her, smiling sadistically. So familiar, yet too far away to remember. He gave a thumps-down to the gunman at Dylan’s side, and the weapon exploded with an ear-piecing blast.
Bang!
Skylar woke up covered in sweat with the sound of the gunshot still ringing in her ears. The dream had been too real, and she couldn’t get away from it. She flung off the covers and padded down the hallway on the cold wood floor arriving in the living room. Dylan’s face was washed in the soft street light shining through the split in the drawn curtains. He was safe and very much alive, and she was going to find a way to keep him that way, even if it killed her.
8
Reconciliation
“It is the person crushed who feels what is happening.”
— ANONYMOUS
Skylar woke up and realized she had forgotten where she was and the definition of the word impossible. Not until she looked outside and saw a group of children at the bus stop and a black Lincoln Navigator parked across the street did she fully comprehend her situation. In five more days, disaster would strike, and she might be stuck in this place or simply vanish forever. It was mind boggling and perplexing at the same time.
Unfortunately, even though she had promised herself to help fix the problems in Dylan’s relationship, she had no idea where to begin or what she could possibly say to Lily. Any plans for a happy marriage between them might have already been ruined. And if they were truly in love, as Dylan had claimed, something had shifted between them. But aside from dealing with Lily’s psychotic father, what else was holding them back?
Was she afraid to commit? Or did she know about Dylan’s smuggling activities and the people who refused to let him go?
According to the clock on the nightstand, it was now 8 A.M., and the silence in the house was a clear indication that Lily hadn’t returned yet. Skylar put her clothes back on and made Dylan’s bed. Then she walked into the closest bathroom. She made herself presentable after finding a new toothbrush and borrowing a comb. She considered asking before using them, but then figured Dylan wouldn’t mind. After all, she was his houseguest and had been told to make herself at home.
She ventured down the hallway to see what she could find to eat in the kitchen, but when she heard the sound of a door closing, she stopped. She edged along the wall to peek into the living room, and that’s when she saw her. Lily.
Startled by her presence, Dylan pushed his blanket aside. “You came back.” He stood up, shirtless and barefooted, and pulled his black jeans over his boxers.
“Well, this is my home too, remember?” Lily said. “I agreed to pay half the rent and help out with the utilities. So I have a legitimate stake in this place.”
Dylan raked his fingers through his hair and held on to the back of his neck. “Where have you been? I called your phone a dozen times. Did you stay at your parents’ house?”
Lily seemed confused. “What are you talking about? I didn’t see any messages.”
“I didn’t leave any. I wasn’t sure if you’d call back.”
Lily shrugged. “Yeah, well…that makes a whole lot of sense, doesn’t it?”
Dylan held out his hand and she stepped back. But that didn’t stop him from trying to reach her. “After you left, I spent hours trying to figure out how to get you back.”
“Yeah, well…I was kinda busy last night. I robbed a bank, and then knocked off the federal reserve.” Her tone was light and she hinted at a smile. “I was thinking about hitting the Shop ‘N Go and Raley’s grocery store too, cause it’s the only way we are going to eat in this house.” Her initial smile faltered.
Dylan frowned. “What are you talking about? We get by just fine.”
“I know…but I wanted more for us. I was counting on the trust fund my parents set up for me. But last night, my father said I was a huge disappointment. That I shouldn’t expect a dime from him. My jobs at the coffee shop and school library pay virtually nothing, and you’re still paying for college. It’s going to be even worse with…” She looked down and seemed to be struggling for the right words. “No inheritance to depend on.”
“Honey, I’m working two jobs…flight instructing and chartering flights to provide for us. I don’t know what else I can do. There’s only so many hours in the day, and I seem to be using all of them. But I know we’ll figure it out somehow. I just know it.””
Lily huffed. “It won’t be enough. Not now. Not ever.”
Skylar bowed her head, feeling angry and disappointed. It felt terrible, eavesdropping during what sounded like a break up. With the added pressure of Lily’s demands, it was no wonder her father was struggling to make ends meet. The drug business was lucrative and could have sustained them for years. But she knew how dangerous it was and how it would ultimately end, if she didn’t step in.
Dylan jammed his hands in his front pockets. “What the hell are you talking about? What’s changed from two days ago?” He scowled. “What aren’t you telling me, Lily?”
Even from a distance, Skylar could see the redness in her eyes and paleness in her skin. It was true, they had professed their love for one another. But the argument Skylar had witnessed and the growing tension between them only proved her suspicions to be right. They were toxic together in more ways than one.
Lily was about to bend down to retrieve her luggage when Dylan stepped in front of her. “Let me take care of those.”
Her body stiffened. “I’ve got them.”
He ignored her and picked up her bags, holding them hip high.
“Why don’t you ever listen? I’m fully capable of carrying them myself.”
“I know. But I want to help.”
Skylar looked around, trying to determine a safe place to hide. If my mother sees me, she’ll never forgive him.
Dylan headed toward the kitchen and Lily followed, leaving Skylar with a brief sense of relief. After waiting a few seconds, she trailed after them, keeping a safe distance.
He set Lily’s bags on the counter next to the washer,
and she began to unload them. “Don’t believe anything I said yesterday. You know…about freedom. It was just a joke.”
“A joke?”
Lily stopped moving to look at him. He was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, looking incredulous.
“Why aren’t you laughing?” she asked.
“At what? I was devastated when you left. What’s so funny about that?”
Skylar bit her lip. This wasn’t going to end well for either of them. Not with the nonsense Lily was spewing.
“Well, I’ve never been known for my sense of humor,” she said with a shrug. She turned her back to Dylan and stared through the window above the sink. “If you don’t understand anything about me, what’s the point in staying?”
“Baby…please.”
A shiver ran down Skylar’s spine at the vulnerability in his tone.
Lily looked over her shoulder at the look of complete helplessness in Dylan’s face. “Tell me what’s going on,” he said. “Did I do something? Because if I did, I’m sorry.”
She replied curtly, “No, of course not.”
Plainly, he was troubled. By the look on his face, he was waiting for her to confirm his worst fears. “I know something’s wrong,” he said. “You’ve been hurting yourself again, and you swore that you stopped. Remember?”
She approached the back door and yanked it open. “I think you should leave now.”
“Lily…” Dylan pleaded with her in his same heart wrenching tone. He moved closer to her. “I don’t understand. Why are you acting like this? Is it because of your father? Because of what happened? Everything I did was justified. He slapped you, Lily. It took everything inside of me not to slug him.”
“Just go! Please!!”
Dylan stood next to the door and made a move to leave. Then he turned around. “Why are you doing this? I love you, Lily.” His voice was soft, almost fragile, as if it and his heart would break any second. “I’ll always love you. Don’t you know that?”
“I love you too, Dylan,” Lily said. “But we don’t work anymore. We never will.” Her voice was shockingly callous.
High Flying Page 8
