Page 32 of Complete Me

15

It felt good to leave the house, although if I were being honest this was like a second home to me. The seat vibrated as the engines roared to life. In another life I'd belonged here. It was strange how easily pieces of who I was had slipped away over the last two years. Nearly all of them had been filled by her, and I would have given up far more of myself if it had been necessary. But while Clara brought out the fighter in me, this was one part of myself that I needed to reclaim. I had been a pilot once, a soldier, a leader in more than name and title, and I had saved men's lives because of it. Clara was still breathing today because of my time on the battlefront.

Brexton's voice filled my earpiece, and I turned to look at my friend.

"I don't think I'm supposed to let you fly, Poor Boy."

"Try to stop me," I said into my mic.

Other people were out doing their Christmas shopping, but nostalgia appealed to me on a very different level. I flipped a few switches and signaled to Brex that we were ready. Then we were airborne. I hadn't flown since that fateful night that nearly claimed Clara's life. Not really. I'd been on private planes and commercial jets. I'd done my fair share of traveling, but that was flying as a passenger, and it was a hell of a lot different than being a pilot.

Brex had put up a minimal fight about letting me take one of the helicopters. Although he had transitioned to my security team, he was still an acting officer of the Royal Air Force. That had certain perks. Whereas my own requests were met with deaf ears and red tape, Brex had gotten a hold of a chopper immediately.

"When I said we needed to talk in private," Brex called over our comms, "this isn't what I meant."

I didn't have to look at him to know he was grinning from ear to ear.

This is how we had met. We had formed a lifelong bond based on our time in the field. I liked to brag that Brex had kept me alive during that time, and he had. All the men I'd flown had kept me alive. I had been in a dark place then, and while I never cared if I came back, I wasn't going to lose any of them. They'd saved me simply by being there. I got the impression that Brex had entirely different reasons for becoming a pilot. Most of them could be found under short skirts.

I couldn't blame him. I'd be lying if I said I'd never used my uniform to catch a woman's attention. Of course, I'd had certain other advantages in that area.

We made our way over London, flying low enough to take in Big Ben and Parliament. It was my turn to grin boyishly as we flew over the London Eye. The romantic in me decided to come out to play when I spotted the place where I had proposed to Clara.

"So," I asked through my mic, "how long have you been seeing Georgia?"

"Every day. We work together," Brex retorted.

"That's not what I meant, brother."

With the heart of London behind us, we headed toward the countryside. I needed to get away and be somewhere where I wasn't surrounded by the constant pressures of my title.

"We're not seeing each other," Brex said after a moment. "You know her pretty well. What's her story?"

I didn't know where to begin with that one. My history with Georgia wasn't up for discussion, but I didn't want to leave Brex out in the cold. There were things he needed to know about her if he wanted to pursue her. Like so many other men, he might have fallen for her attitude and looks without glimpsing what lay beneath. I had to tread carefully. The intimate details of what had happened between Georgia and I in my younger years wasn't something I liked to share, and Georgia prided herself on being discreet. She wouldn't appreciate Brexton finding out that way, either. I did, however, have an out.

"I've known her a long time," I admitted as the wind picked up around us. It was rainy in the countryside today, and it blew in misty sheets against the glass. "I didn't catch up with her until recently, though. She worked for Hammond."

"I know that," Brex said.

Of course he would've been privy to her files, but how deeply had he read up on her?

"What do you know about her, Brex?" I asked him. There was no need to be coy if he already had insight in Georgia's past.

"I know she turned on Hammond. But there's something about her. I didn't want to invade her privacy."

It was a strangely touching gesture for a man who spent most of his time invading knickers. "She owned a club," I told him, "one of Hammond's holdings. It was a BDSM club." Surely he could fill in the blanks from that.

"You mean like whips and shit?" Brexton asked.

I couldn't decide if it was curiosity or apprehension in his voice.

"And shit," I confirmed. "Really rough shit."

"Damn." Brexton let out a low whistle. "So you think she likes that kind of stuff?"

"Yes, I do," I told him. That was as firm as I would be on the matter. He didn't need any more confirmation from me about what Georgia Kinkade was into.

There was a long, awkward silence.