“About being a pilot? No. About being an F-35 pilot? Yes.” He laughs unrepentantly.
“Semantics.” I wave off his earlier comments. “You want to fly me around?” I ask, and I feel… hopeful. I’m not ready to fly, but I also know I trust Kyle with my life. I trust him with anything and everything, so if he can fly… then maybe I can have a little piece of me back. I want to cry, because he’s giving me back the fragments of myself that were ripped away from me in that cell.
“Yeah, honey,” he says gently. “But why are you crying? Maybe this was a bad idea. It’s too soon. Let’s just go home.”
“No!” I shout. “I’m not upset. I’m crying because I was so afraid you wouldn’t want me if I couldn’t be the badass pilot, if I was just… me. But you not only want me—you’re giving me back the pieces of me that were stolen. It means so much to me that the emotions of it all just caught me off guard and now I’m all jumbled and making a mess of things.”
“You’re not making a mess of things,” he says, taking me into his arms again. “I’ll never hold you back, but I want to walk forward with you.”
“I want that too,” I admit with hope filling up my soul. Maybe he was right all along. I can have everything I ever wanted if I just reach for it.
“I keep trying to tell you that we’re better together,” he says.
“I see that now.”
“So you want to go up?” he asks like a child asking for an extra scoop of ice cream or for Santa to come early and bring extra presents.
“In general?” I answer. “No. But with you? Yes. Absolutely, yes.”
“Then your chariot awaits,” Kyle says, holding out his arm to indicate the plane.
We climb onboard and take our seats. We go through the motions of buckling our seat belts and pulling on our headsets. I remain silent, but I watch as he checks all the gauges and flips all the right switches.
My breathing turns shallow and thready as he backs up and taxis down the runway. I close my eyes as the local tower gives him permission for takeoff; his flight plan is already cleared with ground control. I can feel us hurtling down the runway, every bump and bounce along the runway, and then we lift up, higher and higher. I open my eyes when I can’t stand it anymore.
Blue sky is all around me as far as the eye can see. Hot tears track down my cheeks, because Kyle was right; he was so right. We are better together. I was afraid to fly. I was afraid of who I was without being a pilot, because being in a plane scared me, made me feel trapped, and I was terrified of how that made me feel.
But with Kyle, I’m not trapped. I’m free.
He flies me around for another hour, and when our time is over, he executes a perfect landing and returns our borrowed plan back to Surfer’s hangar, although the mysterious man in question is no longer present.
He takes care of all the post-flight checks with the same clear proficiency that he had before. Color me impressed. While he completes his tasks, I set my headset aside and unbuckle my seatbelt. I open the hatch and climb down. I walk around the hangar that belongs to his enigmatic friend, because I’m nosy as fuck.
Who is this man who found me? And how did he know where I was? Even I know those are questions that will likely never be answered because they are well above my pay grade. But still, I can’t help but wonder. His personal space gives me absolutely no clues.
Fortunately, Kyle is done with his checklist, because we are mercifully alone and I am done wondering and waiting. Watching Kyle be so thorough and confident in the air is… attractive. A fact that seems ridiculous when I think about how I never wanted to date another pilot before. But he’s not a pilot—he’s everything. And he’s mine.
“What are you—” he starts to ask, but I cut him off when I leap into his arms and crush my mouth to his. The adrenaline from the flight is coursing through my body and I need a release.
I wrap my legs around his waist and skate one hand up underneath his shirt, over his taut belly, and rake my nails back down.
“I need you,” I beg, and thankfully, he doesn’t make me wait. His hands flex over my ass at my spoken plea, and then he sets me on the ground so that I can kick off my sneakers while he rips open the snap on my jeans and pulls down the zipper.
He dips his hand in the front of my panties and down, down, down until his fingers part me. He hisses out a breath when he feels how wet I am for him, only for him. And then he shoves my jeans and panties to the floor, and I kick out of them.
Kyle’s belt clanks as he drops his jeans to his knees, and then his hands find my thighs and he hoists me up, my back slamming against the tin wall of the hangar. The very tip of him hits my opening, and then he drops me down as he thrusts up into me while I let out a moan.
I wrap my arms around his shoulders and hold on tight as he pounds into me. I arch my back and let my head fall back against the wall so I can meet him thrust for thrust. I need this. I need him.
“Yes,” I pant, because this is everything I need. I need to be with him, connect with him in this primal, vital way. Kyle has given me so much, and now, I need to be the one giving to him.
“That’s it,” he growls as he drives deep inside me. “This is mine.”
“Yes.”
“Only mine.”
“Yes.”
“Always and forever,” he promises as he plunges faster and faster, his movements growing choppy.
“Yes.”
“Say it.”
“Always and forever. I’m yours.”
And then I clench all around him, and I let go while holding onto what’s important. I hold onto us, and he follows me over the edge.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Kyle
Love me anyway
Tall Pines, Texas
Three months later…
Calm. I have never felt calmer in my entire life. Six months ago, I walked into a dive bar off the 805 and it changed my life forever.
The sun is setting on MacKenzie’s family ranch. The sky is glowing in bright pinks and oranges as I stand under an arbor of camellias and magnolias with their family pastor. Seated in front of me in neatly lined up white chairs are all of our friends and family. It’s a beautiful day, perfect even.
But it’s nothing compared to the vision of MacKenzie walking down the aisle toward me on her father’s arm. Her long, slim frame is encased in a white lace dress that hugs her body perfectly to just below her knees. Then it fans out into a small train that floats out behind her.
She’s absolutely beautiful. And I only have eyes for her.
Her niece, Ryan’s oldest daughter, Lacie sits in a chair to the front of the altar and off to the side, strumming a guitar. She has a soft and sweet melodic voice as she sings about searching for a hero and holding out for the very best one. When Mack told me the song she wanted to walk down the aisle to, I almost cried like a baby, standing here now and watching her body slowly move toward me, I feel a tear course down my cheek and I don’t give the first fuck who sees it. I’m so overcome with emotion, my heart bursting with love for the woman who is about to agree to spend the rest of her life with me, side by side.
There’s a soft smile playing about her mouth as she closes the distance between us. It feels like seven hundred years, before she gets to me, but then, there she is.
“Who gives this woman away?” the pastor asks.
“Her mother and I do,” her dad answers proudly.
“Is there anyone who objects to this marriage?” he asks and Sean steps out of his spot next to me with his hands on his hips, challenge ready.
“If there is, I’m going to cut a bitch.” After MacKenzie and I found our way back together, something in him changed toward her. My brother in arms had always liked her, but now he’s her protector and guard dog. He’s as much her friend now as he is mine.
The pastor clears his throat. “A little unconventional, but acceptable,” he says before moving on. “Marriage is not a shelter for the faint of heart. Marriage is a pa
rtnership. It is hard work. There will be good days and bad. But you must turn to each other, not away, when times get tough.”
I look over and see tears shimmering in MacKenzie’s eyes. The pastor is not wrong. We’ve seen our fair share of ups and downs in a small period of time. And we’ve learned the hard way not to turn away from each other during the dark times. The slight rounding of MacKenzie’s belly is proof of that. For two people who didn’t think they could ever be successful in a relationship, we seem to be taking it at warp speed.
“Now, MacKenzie and Kyle have chosen to recite their own vows.”
She turns to me and looks in my eyes and smiles. “I thought I knew what love was before I met you, but I was wrong. I was wrong because your love is so much more. You promised that if I trusted you, you would never let me fall. You would protect me and if you couldn’t, you would find me. And I believe that because you’ve already saved me more times than I can count. You saved me from myself, from the lonely life that I had devoted myself to live.
“So I promise to trust you. I vow to love you, to be your shelter from the storm as you have been mine. I’ll be your friend and partner, your lover, and your baby mama for all the days of the rest of my life and I’ll do it with the knowledge that you have blessed me with a beautiful life full of love and laughter.”
“I love you,” I tell her.
“I love you too,” she says before worrying her lip with her teeth. “Did I forget that part?”
“No, honey,” I say for her ears only, taking her hands in mine. “I haven’t had a home since I was a kid. I travelled all over the world and back, but it wasn’t until I found you that I had a home. Whether we're on the east coast or the west, or somewhere in between, it doesn’t matter because home is not a place, it’s you. I love you.”
She smiles the most beautiful smile I have ever seen when she slips the gold band on my finger. But it’s my turn to smile when the pastor says “By the powers vested in me by God and the great state of Texas, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride!”
I pull her into my arms and crush my lips to hers. She is finally mine. MacKenzie was always mine, from the time that I walked into the Under Dog and stuck my foot in my mouth and all the days that came after. But now she’s mine in name and on paper and I really fucking like that too.
Someone clears their throat and we split apart with a smile. She tucks her arm in mine and we make our way back down the aisle and to our mutual surprise, Hooter and Cinco, her siblings, Ryan and Amelia, and several other pilots I don’t recognize are standing, facing each other in two rows, with their Mameluke swords raised overhead in an arch.
Ryan winks at me as we approach. All has been forgiven since the night he told me that I didn’t deserve his sister. He wasn’t wrong then and I’ve made it my mission to prove to them all that I will never let her down again.
We walk through their arch together in the age-old tradition of military weddings. I know what’s coming, Mack knows what’s coming, I can only hope that she’s not mad when they give her the traditional bride’s swat.
At the end, Hooter and Cinco lower their Mamelukes to stop our progression.
“Request permission to pass,” Mack calls out.
“Passage is a kiss, Captain.”
I turn and take MacKenzie into my arms and kiss her like I mean it. Like I do every time because we know all too well how life can take unexpected and tragic turns and we’re not going to waste another single moment.
And then Hooter lowers his sword and swats me on the ass. Hard.
“Welcome to the corps, Chief.”
I shake my head as everyone around us hoots and hollers but none of it matters because I’m walking into the rest of my life with Mack and she’s everything to me.
“And now, please welcome Mr. and Mrs. Garrett onto the dance floor for their first dance as husband and wife.”
It seemed silly at the time, but MacKenzie wanted all of the wedding frills and traditions. I wasn’t going to be the one to say no. So I tasted cake, I sat with her while she vacillated over flowers and canapes and I did it all with a smile on my face.
And as I take her in my arms as P!nk and Chris Stapleton begin to sing about loving each other no matter how hard life, and the other, make it, it was all worth it. I swing her gently around the wooden dance floor that was laid in her grandfather’s barn. And then she leans into me and whispers her own version of the words in my ear.
“Will you love me anyway?”
“I will.”
“Even if I’m not worth it?”
“You are.”
“Even if I hurt you, will you love me anyway?”
“I will. Always.”
“Even when I make you mad?”
“I’ll love you anyway.”
“Even when I can’t fly?” she asks. “Will you love me anyway?”
“I’ll be your wings when you can’t fly.”
“Forever?”
“Always.”
The song ends and so does our dance. I look down at the sweet smile just for me and the tears shimmering in her eyes. This is it, just her and me, for the rest of our lives. Always and forever. And if she needs me to remind her that she’s worthy, that she’s worth it and that I’ll keep fighting for her, for us, that I will love her anyway and always, I will do it every day for the rest of my life until I take my last breath because this life, this love, it’s wasn’t a trap after all.
It was our salvation and I thank God every day that we grabbed onto it with both hands.
Epilogue
MacKenzie
fairytale
Eight years later…
“Daddy tell us a fairytale!”
Our daughters, Ruby and Camellia, have a favorite game. They love to ask Kyle to tell them a fairytale, and what they really mean is stories of how we met—which are grossly inappropriate for a seven and a five year old—or our wedding.
They love to look at our wedding pictures and proclaim mommy a princess and giggle like they know the greatest of government secrets when Kyle agrees with them wholeheartedly.
And their newest favorite thing is to go flying in a small private plane that we borrow from my brother who flies his wife back and forth from her big news anchor gigs.
Ever since Kyle said he’d give me back my wings, he meant it. He takes me flying off and on to give me the sense of peace and freedom that the sky had always given me before my crash. I was medically retired from the Marine Corps six months after my crash and while I missed it, I knew I could never go back. Something was irrevocably broken inside of me when I woke up in that POW cell.
Hooter and Cinco are still flying. They’re both married now, Cinco is on his second marriage. They both have children of their own and they both dote on our girls. They never let me go when I retired, and I love them for it.
Kyle and I settled into a house in Virginia Beach so that we could be closer to his job with Cole Security. Occasionally, I help them out in the office, that is when I’m not driving to soccer practice or ballet lessons. But the girls don’t know about that either.
“Tell us! Tell us!” they cheer as the sun rises up and we soar through the beautiful sunrise skies.
“Once upon a time, there was an amazing pilot. She was smart, confident, and the best F-35 pilot I’ve ever seen,” he says. I look at our children, buckled up their seats with their headsets on. They look confused because we’ve never told them that mommy used to fly planes not wanting to tell them that a crash changed my life.
“Who was it?” Ruby asks.
“Mommy!” Kyle says with a smile.
“No way!”
“Yes way,” I laugh.
“But why don’t you fly anymore, Mommy?” Camellia asks.
I have to stop and think about it. I’ve always wondered how I was going to tell them about what happened, if I was ever going to tell them. Not that I thought it would be happening so soon. Kyle always told me that it was m
y decision either way and as I glance at him, I can see that he’s sorry he brought it up and put me on the spot. It was a rookie mistake. He should know by now that kids this age ask about eighty seven thousand questions per hour on a daily basis.
“There was something that happened,” I answer, not wanting to give them more information than they could handle so I keep it vague. “An accident. And it scared me. I was afraid to fly but I loved it so very much that daddy gave me my wings again and now I’m happy.”
They pause in their little girl contemplation for a minute and then they cheer. “Yay! We love fairytales!”
“Me too, babies,” I say quietly.
“Me too,” Kyle agrees.
I guess the girls are right, I’m living a real-life fairytale with my badass SEAL hero. It just so turns out, he’s living his happily ever after with a badass too. And I’m so very thankful for it.
THE END
Thank you so much for reading my Salvation Society novel, TRAP. If you’d like to know more about the East Texas town of Tall Pines, you can find out more in my book, Stand. And if you’d love to know all the sexy political secrets of President Chancellor or his right-hand man, Ryan Black, you can start the series for FREE with THE SENATOR’S SECRET. To date, the Surfer’s story is still untold, you can meet him for the first time in The Claire Goodnite Series.
The Salvation Society
Thank you for reading, we hope you enjoyed this Salvation Society novel. Click on the link below to become a member of the Society and keep up with your beloved SEALs.
Join the Society:
https://www.subscribepage.com/SSsignup
Signup for Jennifer’s newsletter:
http://www.jenniferrebeccaauthor.com/newsletter/
Trap: A Salvation Society Novel Page 16
