Page 65 of Fake It For Love (Faux Love)
RYAN
“Shit,” I muttered. A gust of wind shook the plane. I was in it now. The storm had caught me unaware. It shouldn’t have. There was nothing but blue skies one minute and the next I was getting an urgent weather warning.
Apparently, the storm that had been projected to head south of the island changed course and picked up speed. I was over the water. Turning back didn’t feel like the best option. It was probably the smartest option, but according to my radar and the information I was getting from the ground, I could get out in front of it. It was a little out of my way, but not enough to cost me more than thirty minutes or so.
The storm raged on. Just when I decided it was better to turn back and head for the nearest airport, I was informed that was no longer an option. The storm was slamming into the east coast. The best thing I could do was push through. If I was in a different plane, I could climb up and out of this. Unfortunately, my little Diamond was just not capable of getting high enough.
The storm was raging harder. I fought to stay in control of the plane. I could see nothing in front of me or beside me. The clouds swallowed me and the plane. It was nothing but swirling gray and rain. I’d flown in plenty of storms. Lightning storms, snowstorms, even some high winds. This was the worst by far.
For the first time in many years, I was worried. My flight instructors over the years had told me I was far too arrogant. They warned me my confidence would get me in trouble. I laughed it off because it seemed implausible. This was my own fault. They warned me a storm was possible. I should have paid more attention. I should have done a better job checking the weather and the radar.
A jolt nearly shook me out of my seat. I grabbed the stick and held on. It felt like I was wrestling a lion. Trying to maintain control of the aircraft was a monumental task. My alarms were going off like crazy. I was certain I was going to have whiplash by the time I landed. The turbulence was making me sick. I rarely got air sick, but this was no joke. I held on and tried to stay focused on surviving. I didn’t want to think too much about what would happen if this storm proved to be too much.
The one thought that kept running through my mind was her. Claire. If this plane went down, I wouldn’t get to see her again. I felt like there was a lot left unsaid. She needed to know I felt something real for her. This wasn’t just a business arrangement. At least, I didn’t want it to be. I was certain she felt something for me as well. We needed to talk about us. If it was all one-sided, fine. I would move on. But I didn’t think it was just me. It couldn’t be just me.
Another sharp gust jolted me out of my thoughts. I focused on keeping it as steady as I could. I wasn’t about to give up. My mind once again drifted back to thoughts of her. Was she safe? Was the island getting hammered? Was she even thinking about me? A slow smile spread over my lips. “Yeah, she is.”
I was that confident in what we had. We were good together. There was obviously a conversation or two to be had, but I hoped we would be able to see where this thing went. That was assuming I made it back to the island in one piece. I had to make it back. I would make it back.
Time seemed to be dragging. My usual quick flight turned into an all-out battle. By the time I heard the tower guiding me in, I was spent. My muscles hurt from trying to stay upright in the seat. The seatbelt was the only thing keeping me in the leather chair. I felt like my teeth had been loosened and my insides turned upside down and inside out.
I could see the runway, but it was dim in the blowing storm. I barely managed to keep control of the plane. The wind tossed me left and right, bouncing me around as the ground rose up to meet me. If I could just manage to— “Fuck!”
I was practically blown sideways across the runway. I had to climb. I pulled back and lifted the nose of the plane until the lights below were tiny flickers once again. “I’ve got to circle around,” I reported to the tower. “I’ll come around for a second attempt.”
The communication was slightly garbled. This was probably one of the dumbest things I had tried so far. If my mom knew what I was doing right now, she would be pissed. I could practically hear her in my ear scolding me. She’d be saying she told me so. I wasn’t about to prove her right. I took a deep breath and circled the airport.
“You can do this. Steady. Hold it.”
A strong crosswind threatened to throw me off track once again. I held on. My muscles spasmed under my grip on the stick. I wasn’t about to let go. No way was I letting a storm kick my ass. The plane bounced once, causing me to clench my jaw. Another bounce and I was down. I hit the brakes and managed to stop before hitting anything. The visibility was next to nothing.
I blew out a breath and sat in the cockpit. My heart was racing. I realized then I was still holding the stick. I let go and flexed my hands. They were going to be sore in the morning. Hell, every muscle was going to be sore. I didn’t have a jacket to put on. That meant running for the office through the heavy rain.
“Fuck. Here goes nothing.”
I lifted the door and was immediately hit by rain blowing sideways. I hopped down and closed the door behind me. The wind blew me against the wing. I practically peeled myself away and strained to find the building. A light was barely visible. I took one long step toward it. Debris was blowing around the airfield. A branch whacked me across the cheek. I squinted my eyes and did my best to keep the sand and other shit blowing around from slamming into my eyes. My eyes were one of my most valuable possessions. I couldn’t fly if I couldn’t see.
I raised my arm to try and protect my face the best I could. A moment later, the door of the office came into view. I pushed through the wind and rain and reached for it. When I pulled it open, it damn near blew off the hinges. I managed to get inside and, with a lot of effort, managed to close the thing behind me.
I was drenched. The shorts I was wearing were clinging to my legs. My shirt was plastered against my chest. I looked up and saw a young guy sitting behind the counter. He looked at me like he was staring at a ghost. “Damn,” he said.
“Have you been out there?” I asked and shook my arms. I felt like a wet dog.
“Hell no,” he said. “It’s not smart to be out there in a storm like this.”
“No shit. I need the ground crew to pull the plane in. I’ll do it if they can’t.”
“They’re already on it,” he said.
“They are?” I asked with surprise.
He nodded. “If we leave that plane out there, there’s a good chance it will be gone in the morning.”
“Thanks,” I said. “Do you happen to have a towel?”
“Sorry, we don’t,” he said.
“I need a ride to the resort,” I told him. “Are there any cabs running?”
