Chapter 3

Kian stared at the woman, wondering who she really was because she seemed extremely well-versed in water rescue practices for a civilian chopper pilot. And there was the part where she'd casually mentioned how she'd take a water rescue over circling a volcano. What he suspected had been a mistake because she'd clammed up the moment it had slipped past her lips.

But those were questions he could ask once they were back on solid ground.

He reached over and unbuckled Waylen's harness.

His buddy glared at him. "What the fuck are you doing? I'm not jumping."

"They hell you aren't."

"I believe I did this the last time you and I were in the back of a chopper together."

Kian shook his head. Only Waylen would claim to keep track of that shit. Though, after the bombshell he'd just dropped during their conversation after the chopper had taken off about some woman named Presley and how he'd been stuck on her since he was seventeen, nothing shocked Kian, now.

He wouldn't lie. He was a bit butt hurt Waylen hadn't felt he could confide in him. That Kian wouldn't understand. He did. Not that he'd ever been that hung up on a woman he couldn't let it go. But he knew about demons. Had enough of them whispering in his ear that he got the reasoning behind it.

Still, he couldn't let that kind of bro-code violation go unanswered.

Kian gripped Waylen's shirt and grinned. "Then, consider this payback for not telling me about this Presley woman you've been pinning over for twenty-three years."

"You're a fucking asshole, you know that."

"Been called worse. Let me know when you're ready to jump, and I'll tell Blake to hold it steady."

"Funny how she's so water rescue savvy all of a sudden. Makes me wonder what she's hiding."

"Me, too." He braced against the sudden surge of wind as he opened the doors and kicked out the ladder. "Now go, before I give you a shove."

"You so owe me…"

Kian merely smiled, helping Waylen onto the ladder then monitoring his progress as the man slowly inched down the rungs. It took about a minute before he was giving Kian the thumbs up.

Kian twisted the mic back next to his chin. "Waylen's at fifteen feet, Blake."

"Roger."

Blake's voice echoed through Kian's headset, far calmer than he'd predicted. Even if she had done a handful of these in the past, he'd expected a slight waver in her voice. The pitch higher or lower than normal. Instead, she was as cool as the water cresting below them. Had that chopper nailed in place, despite the rolling swells and gusting winds.

He'd bet his ass there was far more to the woman than she'd let on. That military connection Hawk had mentioned.

Waylen gave one last hand signal then dropped, free falling for all of two seconds before hitting the surface and plunging beneath the waves.

Kian started counting. Waylen was one of the best SEALs he'd ever had the pleasure to serve with, but even he couldn't hold his breath indefinitely. Kian would give the guy a full minute before he told Blake to get them insanely low so he could jump straight out the back.

Seeing Waylen's head bob out of the water twenty seconds later eased the tight feeling in his chest. Not because he'd been worried. He'd simply thought he'd left this kind of danger behind. And there was nothing he hated more than feeling helpless. With no comms systems — hell, no lifejackets — all he could do was mentally will Waylen the thirty feet over to the boat. And with the seas frothing like a rabid dog — the boat tipping in every direction like a damn bobblehead — drowning was definitely still on the table. Even for a professional swimmer like Waylen.

Time dragged by as Waylen headed for the stern, finally making his way on deck before disappearing inside. Kian's cue to ready the basket and get his medic bag open. He had the unit locked and hooked up with his supplies arranged across the seats when his headset chirped.

"So, Kian. Was that a medic bag I saw you carrying, earlier?"

He smiled. "I hadn't realized you'd noticed."

She shrugged, cursing a bit when a strong gust shoved the machine over — nearly knocked him on his ass. "I like to keep track of my surroundings. What kind of medic were you?"

"Rescue combat. There's not much I haven't seen or treated. Though, every team member knows some advanced first aid."

"That's reassuring. Were you able to get the basket hooked up or do you need instructions?"

"Locked and loaded."

That got him a stunning smile over her shoulder. "I'm assuming Waylen will have to use the tender to get far enough away from the boat I can safely retrieve the patient. I just hope this storm doesn't get any worse because hovering here is like trying to hold a bronco steady with a piece of string."

"I don't know. You make it look easy. And you seem to know a lot about boats and proper rescue practices. Have you done many? You mentioned something about preferring them, earlier."

And there it was. The same tension straining her shoulders. The slight hitch in her breath sounding across the comms. He'd definitely hit a nerve.

"I've done a bit of everything."

"That's not really an answer."

"It's the only one you're going to get."

"That doesn't sound suspicious, at all."

"I thought men liked an air of mystery when it came to women?"

Well damn. He couldn't fault her there.

His headset clicked.

"Blake, this is Waylen. Do you read me?"

Some of the stiffness left her muscles. "Copy that."

"Does my traitorous best friend have that basket ready, yet?"

"Ready and waiting. How's our patient?"

"Not great, but he should be okay to make the trip up without Kian having to shimmy down or jump. As long as you can hold that bird steady."

"I didn't plow your ass into the boat when I had the chance, now, did I? You just focus on getting him secured inside that basket, and I'll worry about the gusting winds and raging waves making it impossible to hover."

"Point noted. We're doing this the hard way. I'll load him into the tender and go fifty feet from the stern. That should keep the mast out of the equation. While I'm prepping the injured, I need you to radio the puddle pirates — I mean the Coast Guard. They're apparently thirty minutes out. But the boat's taking on water. We need them sooner."

"Tell her I said to abandon?—"

"Already told her, and I'll be repeating it. For now, let's deal with one situation at a time. The tender has no lights. All you'll see is a headlamp."

"I've worked with less."

Blake muttered under her breath, again. What Kian assumed was another slip, then gave him a quick glance. "Sounds like you drew the long straw this time. Of course, you haven't had to reel the guy in, yet, or treat him while getting bounced around in the back of a chopper. But if you manage not to puke by the time we reach one of the hospitals, I'll buy you a cup of coffee as a thank you."

"I'll hold you to that."

She laughed. "I can't help but notice you sound far more excited about risking your ass dangling halfway out of a chopper trying to stabilize a spinning basket, than you did safely sitting inside circling the volcano. Which you realize is crazy, right?"

"Sweetheart, I'll take literally anything to do with water over fire, any day."

Sweetheart? Why had that slipped out?

Kian waited to see if Blake might tip the machine over in an attempt to dump him out the open door for using the endearment, but she merely laughed.

"Like I said. Crazy. Okay, hold on… This is where the fun really starts."

Blake eased the chopper back, staying far enough away the downwash didn't complicate Waylen's part of the mission, especially when just keeping the small craft upright and steady was going to be hard enough. It took a few moments before that headlight appeared on the deck, a small beacon of hope in the eerie darkness. With no power, the big sailboat was nothing more than a slightly lighter smear against the black waves.

Blake must have hit some kind of spotlight because the entire back end of the vessel illuminated a moment later. Emphasizing the nauseating roll of the deck as the boat rode each wave, looking as if it might capsize at any second.

Kian rubbed his eyes, staring at the large letters scrolled across the back. "Am I seeing things or is that boat called Waylen?"

"You're not seeing things."

"Doesn't that seem odd?"

"The name or the fact your buddy shares it? Because they're both odd, to me."

Kian nodded. "Agreed. I don't suppose you know the captain?"

"Of the Waylen? She's a friend of mine. Her name's Presley. She owns Driftwood Tours."

Well damn. Talk about an act of providence.

"Now, that's interesting. I'm lowering the basket?—"

He inhaled when a sharp gust sent them reeling sideways, spinning the chopper a full three-sixty before Blake wrangled the helicopter back into position. She grunted when it dropped a few feet, shaking her head as she rasped into the mic.

"We're getting some severe wind sheer with this inbound system. Hold on. It's only going to get rougher."

"If you think it's too dangerous?—"

"Screw that. I've never left a crew member or friend behind, yet, and I'm not starting tonight. Endeavor to do more, rather than less, as they say. And I'll do whatever I have to, but be prepared for the basket to spin."

Kian stared at her, tapping his headset. It had cut out for a second and he'd missed half of what she'd said. Something about doing more rather than less?

No doubts about it — Blake Garrett was as mysterious as she'd claimed.

Blake must have wondered why he hadn't responded because she gave him a quick side eye, waiting for him to nod, before focusing out the window. Though, even with the spotlight beaming on the surface, it was hard to judge the distance.

How she was hovering with zero reference points and no light sources was a freaking mystery. Sure, she had instruments, but with the waves cresting a good six feet and the wind blowing in every direction, he was surprised she hadn't smashed them into the boat. Or worse… dumped them in the water.

No use worrying about how great she was with Waylen nearly in position. Instead, Kian worked the controls, holding the basket steady once it got within a few feet of the tender. His buddy reached for it, missed, then managed to grab it when Blake swung it back toward him.

The line pulled against the hoist, but Blake kept the machine steady, looking far too comfortable as she moved her hands and feet, constantly adjusting to the changing conditions.

It took Waylen a few attempts to get the patient in the proper position, before he was twirling his hand — signaling Kian to start the hoist.

Blake inched them over enough the tender wasn't still being bombarded by the rotor's downwash as the basket slowly closed in on the open door. It took a bit of finessing and a whole lot of luck to maneuver the damn thing in on his own with the winds constantly pushing the unit away, but he managed it — got the man out and positioned across the other row of seats. A thorough body sweep, and Kian had the man's shirt cut off and a small saline drip hooked up to his arm as he dealt with the open cut on his forehead.

"How is he?"

Kian sighed. "He's got second and third degree burns to his face, neck, shoulders and chest, along with a decent laceration across his temple. Damn thing's bleeding like a faucet."

"In that case, we should head for the Kona Community Hospital. While Ka'u's closer, Kona's a level three trauma center, and it sounds like he'll need the advanced care. I'll radio ahead and get clearance to land at their grass helipad. The flight shouldn't take more than about twenty minutes. Let me know if it gets too rough, and I'll see if I can find smoother air. Though, between the storm system and the volcano, I don't think there's any calm air left."

"Compared to treating wounded soldiers in the back of a Black Hawk trying to avoid gunfire and RPG's this is nice."

She chuckled, giving him a nod as he focused on his patient. Stemming the bleeding while trying to keep the damaged skin clean and clear. Getting bucked by gusting winds every minute didn't make his job any easier. But he managed to keep the guy breathing while Blake made the short journey without a hitch. It wasn't until they were on their approach to the helipad that she blew out a raspy breath.

"I swear, if my engine filters are buggered, Hawk's going to get my boot up his ass."

"Problem, Blake?"

"Nothing I can't handle. There's just a bit more ash than I'd been hoping for. But we're not in any danger."

Right, and his shirt was still white.

"Hawk did say to send him the bill."

"Like I'm going to charge the man for asking me to do the right thing." She snorted. "Short final for the helipad. Buckle up."

Skilled, beautiful, and a sense of honor. This woman was definitely the full package.

Kian took his seat, keeping his patient from rolling as Blake eased onto the ground, barely shaking the helicopter as it touched down on the hospital's helipad. She reduced the throttles, motioning to the staff waiting beyond the fence.

A brief pause, then the doors opened, a group of nurses and doctors swarming the chopper. Kian helped them put the man on a stretcher then hopped out, striding beside them as he rattled of vitals and what treatments he'd undertaken. Five minutes, and the guy was in one of the trauma rooms, a full panel of staff overseeing his care.

Kian hung around until he was sure he wouldn't be needed, anymore, before making his way outside. Smoke scented the air, the odd flake of ash swirling across the pavement.

"How's your patient?"

He glanced to his right, smiling at Blake. He'd wondered if she'd left, already, and he couldn't stop the billow of warmth through his chest that she'd waited for him. "Critical. They're putting him in a drug-induced coma until they can thoroughly assess the burns. I doubt he'll be conscious anytime soon."

"Then, I guess it's lucky you and your buddy, Waylen were nearby."

"We weren't the ones who flew a helicopter in the midst of a storm with a volcano erupting thirty miles away."

She shrugged. "It'll make for a fun story one day. Which reminds me… What did you mean when you said it was interesting that Presley was the captain of the Waylen?"

"Let's just say your friend and mine go way back."

Blake frowned, tilting her head to the side before she inhaled, a flash of color staining her cheeks. "That's why he looked familiar. I knew I'd seen him before. He's that gangly kid in the photo with Presley at that skanky bar we always go to."

Blake huffed. "I can't believe she lied to me. That she named her boat after the guy but claimed she couldn't remember his name. She definitely owes me a beer, now."

Kian cleared his throat. "Photo? Skanky bar?"

"It's nothing important, just an old photo of them on the wall in this place we frequent."

"Sounds like your friend's keeping her past as secret as Waylen. Until tonight, I didn't even know he'd been crushing on Presley for the past twenty years."

"We don't really talk too much about our pasts. No one wants to hear about all that baggage. Better to make new memories than recount old ones."

"And that's exactly the kind of answer I'd expect from someone who's named her helicopter company Huna. That means secret in Hawaiian, doesn't it?"

A smile tugged at her sexy mouth. "Look who's been studying."

"Never know when there's going to be a pop quiz." He glanced at his watch. "Damn, it's pretty late, but I should see if I can get those cameras to the deputy chief."

"Already took care of that for you. We're right next to the Kona Sheriff's department. They said they'd send an officer to deliver them to the right people. I figured it'd be faster since I didn't know how long you'd be stuck here."

"That was incredibly nice of you. Thanks." He arched a brow. "So… you said if I didn't puke, you'd buy me a coffee." He waved at his shirt. "Not a speck of puke on it."

"Nope. Just blood. Which is a shame. It's a very flattering shirt."

He grinned. "Guess I'll have to get myself another one. So, coffee?"

"Where we get coffee depends on whether we're making a return run to get Waylen and Presley." She walked over to him. "Any update from them?"

"I just talked to him. He and Presley are getting a room by that marina where she had her boat towed. I said I'd meet up with him tomorrow, though, that means I'll have to rent another car. I left mine at the ranch."

"Maybe if you're nice, I'll give you a lift. Speaking of which, we should head back to Waikoloa, first. My mechanic's part vampire. He's going to give my ride a good once-over so everything should be good-to-go by morning. Unless after flying with me, you'd prefer to drive?"

"It might be safer…" He coughed when she smacked his chest. "I'd love a ride in the morning. But coffee, first."

"Then, follow me, sailor."