Chapter One

With gentle touches to his controls, Enrique Walters touched his helicopter's skids to the ground with nary a bump. He smiled as he looked at the passenger to his left. Then he peered over his shoulder and offered the pair in the back the same look.

"Thank you so much for joining me today, folks," Enrique began, spotting his coworker Parish Dowers striding toward the landing pad. "I hope you enjoyed the ride."

"Oh, it was amaaazing," the woman next to Enrique gushed. As she took off her headphones, revealing her flushed cheeks, she continued, "I can't believe how gorgeous everything looks from up there."

"Bird's eye view, just like you wanted," one of the men in the back stated with a nod. He reached forward and touched the woman's shoulder, a loving expression on his rather plain features. "Happy anniversary, baby."

Peering over her shoulder at him, the woman rested her hand over his. "Yep. Just like I wanted." She appeared so very happy as she stared back at him with clear affection. "Thanks, hon. Happy anniversary."

For an instant, Enrique had to look away from the dang-near glowing couple. Upon introductions at the beginning of the ride, he'd learned that the pair were celebrating their ten-year wedding anniversary. The wife had wanted to see the world from above, and the husband had fulfilled her wish by chartering a flight with the helicopter tours that Enrique owned and operated.

Enrique felt a niggle of jealousy churn in his gut, but he did his best to ignore it. Watching happy couples often had that effect on him. After his third tour, Enrique had retired from the military and had looked for a permanent romantic partner. Nothing had panned out. He'd tried both males and females, having accepted his bisexuality in high school. Unfortunately, the hours Enrique had spent getting his helicopter tour business up and running had always gotten in the way.

Several years before, he'd sworn off relationships, but that didn't mean he didn't still want what he was missing.

What my parents had.

Forcing those sorts of thoughts away, Enrique focused on the present—and his paying customers. After all, he didn't have too many of them this time of year. The winter was his slowest season.

Can't wait for spring.

Everyone seemed to want to see the blossoming trees in the spring and the colorful leaves in the autumn.

Another month. My business can make it.

After nearly five years in the business, Enrique had learned to anticipate the highs and lows of the seasons. He planned ahead and budgeted carefully. That didn't mean there weren't bumps along the way, unanticipated problems and repairs. In this case, the economy tanked with the changing of the presidents, and gas prices had skyrocketed.

For that reason, when Enrique heard a certain chime come from his phone, he barely hid his wince. He'd set up a specific tone for the annoying person's number.

Wish I'd never accepted ex-mayor Sheldon Loreman's money.

Too late now.

Hindsight is always twenty-twenty, as they say.

"Thanks again for an amazing flight, man," the husband told him from the back seat of the chopper. "You've made my wife's day." As the guy held out a couple of folded bills to him, he waggled his brows and added, "Which will make my night."

Enrique felt the corners of his lips twitch as he took the tip. "Thank you, sir," he replied, knowing the only reason the customer would tease like that was because Parish had already helped said wife out of the helicopter. "May the rest of your anniversary be just as, uh, fantastic."

Mentally wincing, Enrique hoped that didn't offend.

To Enrique's relief, the guy barked a laugh. "You know it," he claimed, reaching forward and patting him on the shoulder.

The door beside the husband opened, and Parish was there, encouraging the man to exit. The customer directly behind Enrique leaned forward and offered a second tip. The man had been introduced as the husband's brother.

As Enrique took it, the guy stated, "Thanks again. It was great getting to tag along on the ride." With a scoff, he added, "Been too long since I've been up in one of these things."

Hearing the nostalgia in the man's voice, Enrique turned as much as he could in his seat. "Ex-military?" he guessed, checking out the man's expression—vacant eyes and a slight curving of his firm lips.

Yup. Definitely lost in a fond memory about something.

"Yeah." The guy's answer came out softly. He blinked once before refocusing on Enrique. "Although, flying in a civilian bird's nothing like a chinook."

With a laugh, Enrique shook his head. "No, it definitely isn't."

"You served, too?"

Enrique smiled and nodded. "Air force." He didn't expand on that. He really didn't have time to chat about it, even though it would've been nice to catch up with a fellow serviceman.

"Reserves, I..." The man hesitated. Then he glanced around, and he must have realized that everyone was waiting on him. "Well, thanks again, and for your service."

"You, too," Enrique replied. Holding the man's gaze for a few seconds longer, he added, "Everyone counts, no matter the branch."

While each branch had their rivalries, they all understood the same basic tenant. They were all important, and everyone did their part. They were a team.

The guy nodded once, then exited the bird with ease, betraying that he had experience with flying.

Enrique hadn't noticed it before. He'd been too focused on the pair celebrating their anniversary. As he watched the guy walk away, he couldn't help noticing the way the guy filled out his jeans.

Nice ass.

"You need a fuel top-up before your next set of customers?"

Parish's question snapped Enrique out of his admiration of the most-likely straight ex-serviceman. Switching his attention to the man who was both an employee and a friend, he noticed his smirk. After leveling a narrow-eyed look at his buddy, who grinned in response, telling Enrique he'd been caught looking, Enrique sighed deeply and rolled his eyes.

"Is this next couple the last for the day?" Enrique asked. As far as he'd known, the pair was, but something could have come in while he'd been in the air.

Parish nodded in confirmation. "Yep."

"Then, no. We have plenty to make it through this last flight," Enrique claimed. "We'll refill on our final walkthrough."

Giving him a thumbs up, Parish backed away from the chopper, ducking while under the still slowly rotating blades.

Enrique slipped the tips into his button-down's front pocket and watched as Parish beckoned for his final customers of the day to come forward.

*

Lifting his hands into the air, Enrique twined his fingers and arched his back. He stretched and twisted slowly, working out the kinks in his back. Enrique bent forward and touched his toes, allowing his head to hang and his neck to release the pressure built up from flying.

As much as Enrique loved flying, there was always a certain amount of tension that came with it. After all, he was flying through the air in a machine. It was exhilarating and stress-inducing all at the same time—each and every time.

Enrique loved it.

Making a go of it in the private sector was damn difficult, though—hence the phone call he was gearing himself up to make.

Finally, Enrique settled on a bar stool in his kitchen and took a sip of his beer. He picked up his phone and reread the message from ex-mayor Sheldon Loreman.

Call me as soon as possible.

The demand was short and to the point. Enrique knew that he was going to get an earful, since he'd put the man off longer than he should. He'd finished his paperwork, done all his final checks, and headed home.

Enrique figured he should've just called Sheldon on the drive, but he hadn't wanted to deal with the infuriating, bigoted man. The ex-mayor didn't know that Enrique was bisexual. He didn't hide it, but he didn't flaunt it, either, since he hadn't dated anyone in several years.

That meant, every time Enrique talked to the guy, Sheldon managed to insert at least one slur or insult into the conversation about Sheriff Archer Montgomery and Acting-Mayor Albert Lindson. From what Enrique had heard through the grapevine—from Parish, who'd heard it from some woman he'd dated—Archer had needed to sweet talk Albert into taking over the mayoral duties. Originally, Archer had been handling them, but he hadn't enjoyed or wanted to do them after Sheldon had gotten canned.

Considering the men were both in prominent positions and in relationships with men, Sheldon just couldn't fathom how the people of their god-fearing community could condone such perversity, let alone allow them in positions of power, flaunting their disgusting lifestyle.

All things Enrique had heard Sheldon rant about more than once.

In truth, Enrique wasn't certain if Sheldon was angrier about their homosexuality or the fact that his attempt to get Archer fired for it had backfired. After the sheriff had come out when he'd started dating Lludd, his current partner, Sheldon had been the one to lose his job. The fact that the city council had chosen to place another gay man in his stead to finish out his term before the next election must definitely have been the icing on Sheldon's bigotry and hatred cake.

But I took money from the man, so suck it up, buttercup, and call the douche.

With that thought in mind, Enrique did just that. The phone rang twice before Sheldon picked up.

"What the hell took you so long to get back to me?" Sheldon demanded in his usual rude style. "I texted you hours ago."

Even though Enrique didn't feel like it, he remained calm and took the high road. "I apologize, but I was at work. I just got home twenty minutes ago." It was the truth. He'd gotten home, showered, and now there he sat. Wanting to move the conversation along, Enrique stated, "I'm assuming you went through the footage I sent yesterday. I'm sorry, sir, but I'm just not seeing any sign of anything odd going on at the Lindson cattle ranch."

When Sheldon had approached Enrique a couple of weeks before about surveilling the property, he'd thought it an odd request. The ex-mayor had been adamant that the group was doing something illegal. While certain members of the Lindson family had recently been through a number of scandals and health problems, Enrique had never heard that they were doing anything against the law.

Archer surely wouldn't have convinced Albert to be the acting-mayor if that was the case.

Still, Sheldon had offered a nice-sized wad of cash to sweeten the deal—under the table, of course. The ex-mayor didn't want anything to possibly be traced back to him. While Enrique felt a little bad about hiding income from Uncle Sam—he was a patriot, after all—the padding to his bank account had been too good to pass up.

"That's probably because you're doing fly-bys during the day." Sheldon's tone had a definite you're an idiot quality to it that caused Enrique to clench his jaw to keep from responding. The man continued, still sounding snide, as he ordered, "Do a pass at night. Tonight. I know there's something going on out there." There was a definite growl in Sheldon's voice as he continued, "There's no way a faggot who's been living alone in the mountains for years could come back and end up mayor. Someone's greasing palms somewhere, and I intend to find out who and expose them." Sheldon began sounding obsessed as he added, "This has to do with the gay agenda and sympathizers. Those vile deviants are trying to take over the country. Well, I'll stop them. Someone has to."

"It's hard enough coming up with an excuse as to why I was flying over their ranch during the day," Enrique stated, cutting into Sheldon's nonsensical mutterings. "The sheriff visited me, ya know. Everyone in the area knows that chopper's mine."

Fortunately, Enrique had already thought up a cover story—just in case—and while Sheriff Archer hadn't looked completely convinced, he'd only warned him not to fly too low to the Lindson's herds. It wasn't as if the sheriff could order him not to fly over their ranch. It just had to be above a certain height.

"Don't you worry about that fag," Sheldon countered. "He'll be out of his job as soon as I'm back in office."

Enrique gave in and rolled his eyes. The dick was truly obsessed and delusional. Unfortunately, Enrique had taken a considerable amount of money from him.

Pushing the beer away, Enrique stated, "Very well. I'll go do a night pass for you." He rose to his feet, resigning himself to a long evening. "Check your cloud account in the morning."

"Send it tonight," Sheldon demanded. "I'll be waiting."

Without another word, the ex-mayor hung up on him.

Enrique blew out a long breath while rubbing his palms over his face. With a shake of his head, he returned to his bedroom. He changed into a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, a sweatshirt, thick socks, and boots.

Then Enrique grabbed his keys and wallet before making certain the go-pro device on his headband was charged. Heading to his garage, he vowed that this would be the last time he flew for Sheldon. Enough was enough.

While Enrique had no desire for it to get out that he took videos of a local rancher's activities for payment, he supposed there were worse things to be accused of.

Not being true to myself is one of them. No more letting that asshole use me for his psychotic crusade.

With that thought in mind, Enrique returned to the private airfield where he housed his helicopters. He paused as he stared at the pair of birds in the hangar. What few knew was that he had more than just the helicopter that he used for his business.

Enrique had spotted the old Blackhawk for sale on an online auction and hadn't been able to resist. Of course, it had been stripped of weapons, but he hadn't cared. The flight hours were surprisingly low, all things considered.

Buying it is probably what put me in the financial hole I ended up in, but it was so worth it. There's nothing like flying it.

Unable to resist, Enrique opened the hangar for the Blackhawk and started going through his preflight checklist. It didn't take long for him to confirm that everything was in order. As Enrique settled behind the controls, that familiar tingle of anticipation traveled up his spine.

With a smile, Enrique started the machine, and as soon as he could, he took to the air. His stomach somersaulted, as usual, and he relished the sensation. He checked his gauges, stated the necessary call signs and numbers into his microphone—not that he expected anyone else to be in the air at that time of night—and started making a roundabout flight toward the Lindson ranch.

Just as Enrique began creeping closer to the west edge of the sprawling cattle ranch, a large shadow crossed between him and the half-full moon to his left, catching his attention. He turned his head, but whatever had caused it was already gone. A second later, he spotted another glimpse near the tops of the trees.

"What the hell?" Enrique whispered, unable to think of a bird large enough to cause such a shape.

Before he could wonder further, something big slammed into his tail, sending his bird spinning.

Enrique fought with the controls, doing his best to slow his rotations as he began plummeting far too fast toward the forest below. A hard shudder rocked through his bird, slamming him against the safety straps. His body jerked, and his head snapped sideways. His helmeted head slammed hard into the side of the cockpit, causing spots to dance across his vision and his ears to ring.

As Enrique struggled to stay conscious—needing to concentrate so he could land his bird—he wondered if flying this one last foolhardy mission would be his end, after all.

Just fucking great. Dyin' a stooge for that bigoted asshole.

Then... his consciousness fled.