Need for Speed (The Elite Book 2) Read online

  Shit. I can’t do this. I can’t fly like this and put everyone else and myself at risk. Shit, shit.

  As quickly as I’d barreled down the runway, I brought the jet to a screeching halt. Paralyzed, I sat there at the edge of the strip and struggled for breath. It was all I could do to lift my arm enough to rip the mask off, and then there it was—air, sweet air.

  “Panther?” came a voice over the comm.

  “I can’t.” The sound that came out of me sounded nothing at all like me. It was shaky and breathless and full of anxiety, all things that weren’t me. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”

  There was a pause, and then the voice said, “Bring it back in.”

  Without the mission hanging over me like a sack of bricks, I was able to get back in control of myself enough to turn the jet around and head back. Once I parked, I just sat there, the full reality of what had happened hitting me.

  I’d failed. I’d failed by not having the guts to go up there and try. I wasn’t a guy who said, “I can’t,” but I’d said it, and not just once.

  “Fuck.” I pulled off my helmet and scrubbed my hands over my face. What was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I just suck it up and do what needed to be done? Now I’d have to face not only my instructors, but also the other trainees. I’d have to face Solo. My father would hear about it. And I’d look weak.

  Nausea swirled in my gut, and I quickly made my way out of the cockpit and across the field. I barely made it to the bathroom in the bay before it all came out, all the tension and fear—and breakfast. Thank God everyone else was already on the mission and couldn’t see the way I wasn’t handling my shit. When I was sure I was done, I collapsed onto the floor, leaning my head back against the door and giving myself a few minutes to make sure nothing else would be making a surprise appearance.

  Who are you?

  The bathroom door squealed on its hinges as it opened, and then I heard Commander Levy say, “Lieutenant Hughes?”

  Oh for fuck’s sake. Really?

  I pushed up to my feet and stepped out of the stall feeling like a dead man walking. I must’ve looked it too, because a flash of compassion crossed Levy’s face before he schooled it back into his usual nonchalance.

  “Sir?” I said.

  “Wash up. Get out of your gear. Then come see me in my office.”

  As he let the door swing shut behind him, the urge to be sick again hit me; the problem was that there was nothing left in my stomach that needed to come out. So I washed my hands and splashed some water on my face, not bothering to look in the mirror. I didn’t know if I could face looking at myself when I felt like I was crawling out of my skin.

  Ten minutes later, I knocked on Commander Levy’s office door.

  “Come in.”

  I stepped inside to see Levy standing at his window, looking up at the sky—maybe watching the other trainees who actually decided to leave the runway today, who knew.

  He gestured to the seat in front of his desk. “Sit.”

  I sat gratefully, not sure if my legs would hold me up much longer now that my whole body seemed to be coming down with a case of the shakes.

  Commander Levy hit a button on his phone, and when his assistant picked up, he said, “Two waters and something out of vending, please, Jane.”

  Less than a minute later, Jane walked in and set the bottled waters and a packet of salted nuts and a Snickers bar on the edge of the desk.

  “Those are for you,” Commander Levy said, taking a seat behind his desk. When I didn’t immediately open anything, he gestured toward the food. “Eat. Drink. You need something in your system, since I’m guessing you cleared everything out.”

  Heat flooded my face at being caught in such a pathetic moment, but Levy waved me off.

  “You’ve been through something that would bring any pilot to his knees. No need to be embarrassed.”

  I’d expected a dressing-down for failing to go through with the hop, but instead I was getting…sympathy?

  As I tore open the bag of nuts and popped some into my mouth, he asked, “What happened out there?”

  I chewed and swallowed some water, already starting to feel less shaky. “I couldn’t do it.”

  “And why do you think that is?”

  “Fear, sir.”

  “Ah, yes.” Commander Levy rocked back in his chair, clasping his hands over his stomach. “I imagine that was a first for you.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Not a feeling you enjoy, is it?”

  I took another swallow of water and shook my head. “Not at all, sir.”

  “Mhmm.” The look he gave me was curious, assessing. “The reason we’re able to do what we do is that lack of fear. Cocky. Alpha. Terms we hear often, but without it, we’d hesitate. We’d lose. We’d die.”

  I nodded, not wanting to ask the question that was hanging over us—how the hell did I get over the fear?

  “You know, on that final hop, I saw some pretty incredible flying from you, Panther. As a matter of fact, you could’ve locked on to me—twice. Had you been able to continue, I have no doubt you would’ve won that hop.” He shifted forward, pinning me with an intense stare. “I would’ve lost. Do you know how many times that’s happened in the past?”

  “I’m not sure, sir.”

  “Once. In all my years at NAFTA, only once has a pilot in our program ever defeated me, and it was your father. So you know what that tells me?”

  I shook my head.

  “It tells me you’re too good to let the fear win. You owe it to yourself, hell, to the Navy, to get your confidence back and get up in the air.”

  I opened my mouth to respond, but found I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to get over it. Of course I fucking wanted to. But—

  “How to make that happen, hmm?” Commander Levy rubbed his chin, and I could practically see the wheels turning. “I think we need to get you back up there as soon as possible. But not alone this time.”

  My forehead scrunched up as I wondered where he was going with this. Somehow, I had a feeling I wasn’t going to agree with his decision.

  “We need someone more than fearless. Someone you can fly with that can help you snap out of any anxiety you’re feeling. Someone like…”

  Oh God. He’s gonna say it.

  “…Solo.”

  20 Solo

  “I THINK THIS is a bad idea.”

  I looked over to Panther standing against the wall in the bay, watching me gear up.

  “What? Flying with me? Rude.”

  “I don’t mean you. Well, not just you—”

  “Are you trying to be insulting? Because if so, you’re doing a bang-up job.”

  Panther sighed. “What if it happens again?”

  “Here we go with the what-ifs.”

  “Doesn’t that make you nervous? What if I fuck it up? It’s not just me in the cockpit.”

  I clipped the harness across my chest and then walked over to him—still refusing to put on his gear. “Do you trust me?”

  A frown wrinkled his brow. “Is this a trick question?”

  “Forget it.” I went to walk away, but Panther grabbed my arm.

  “Okay, fine. Yes, I trust you.”

  “So you trust me, but you don’t trust yourself?”

  Panther’s mouth opened and shut a few times before he finally shook his head. “Not right now.”

  With the bay cleared out, I took the opportunity to lift his chin, forcing him to look me in the eye. “There’s a reason Levy chose me. It’s because I trust you. You won’t let anything happen to me, and I won’t let anything happen to you.” I dropped my hand. “We’re gonna get through this. So gear up and let’s do it together.”

  Panther bit down on his lip, his blue eyes glistening, and then he nodded. “Thank you.”

  “Thank me when we land and you realize you’ve got this.”

  When Panther nodded again, I reached for him and gave him a soft kiss. He melted into it for a moment before wrapping his hands around my wrists and pulling away.

  “We can’t. Not here.”

  I grinned. “Trust me.” I kissed him again and then pushed him toward his gear, swatting his ass as he went.

  Panther chuckled as he headed off to his bay, and I leaned up against the wall to watch him go. I knew he was nervous about heading up again today, but after talking with Commander Levy, I agreed that this just might be the way to get him comfortable in the air again. Now, if this had been a few weeks ago, I would’ve said hell no, let his pal Houdini take his ass back up there. But with everything that had happened between that first day and now, I wasn’t letting him get in a jet again with anyone but me.

  With the bays empty, except the two of us, I took a moment to watch Panther as he geared up, and thanked whoever had been watching over him that day of his accident that he was still here. That I was still able to stand here and look at him, as he clipped the legs of his survival suit up the inside of his thighs, and then zipped them into place.

  I took in a deep breath and let it out, as the weight of the responsibility I’d been given here today sank in. I’d been serious when I asked Panther if he trusted me minutes ago, but it wasn’t only him who would be watching. Commander Levy’s eyes would be on us like a fucking missile up there, not to mention Captain Hughes—inadvertently—so basically the whole fucking Navy was counting on me, Solo, the reckless motherfucker to take their golden boy up in the air, fly him around at thirty thousand feet, and remind him why he loved to risk his life every day when he woke up in the morning.

  Sure, no problem.

  But when Panther strode back toward me with his helmet in hand and his Aviators in place, the pressure of having such precious cargo in my jet with me began to weigh a little heavier upon my shoulder
s.

  Plastering a cocky smile on my face, I shoved aside the slight niggling doubt and reminded myself I was one of the best—if not the best—pilot in this course. If anyone could make Panther fall back in love with flying, it was gonna be me.

  “Ready, lieutenant?”

  Panther’s lips twitched as he gave a clipped nod. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

  I shoved off the wall, and as I turned to head to the door with him, I clapped him on the back. “Now there’s the spirit.”

  “Yeah, well, let’s hope my spirit stays in my body this time.”

  I stopped in the hall and grabbed at Panther’s arm, and when he came to a standstill, I looked him up and down and said in my most serious tone, “Here’s hoping. You don’t want to be reissued your call sign. I hear ‘vomit’ and ‘hurl’ are still up for grabs. Gucci says they’re all yours if you want them.”

  Panther shoved me in the arm and pointed toward the doors that led to the hangar, and I laughed.

  As we pushed through them and out into the blistering summer sun, the runway under our feet was radiating so much heat that I swore if you cracked an egg on it, it would fry in seconds.

  I snatched my Aviators out of my pocket and slipped them on as we headed to the F/A-18F Hornet we’d be flying in today. After we’d run through the pre-check, I came around to find Panther waiting by the steps that led up to the cockpit.

  “Everything good?” I asked.

  Panther worried his lower lip with his teeth, and then looked back to me and nodded. “Yep.”

  “You sure?”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Okay, then.”

  I was just about to head up the stairs when Panther grabbed my arm. “I trust you.”

  An arrogant grin curled my lips, the slight nerves from minutes ago fading with those three words. “Good. Then get in and buckle up. I’m about to take you on the ride of your fucking life.”

  21 Panther

  OH GOD, HERE we go.

  As Solo taxied out to the runway, I sat in the rear seat of the Hornet, scanning over the screens and dials that I would use to navigate the mission—well, if we had a mission. As it was, Levy had basically given Solo permission to take me on a joy ride, and that alone should’ve scared me shitless. Who knew what the hell a pilot like Solo would be like without any rules?

  Jesus. I could feel my hands sweating through my gloves, my heart rate kicking up a notch, though not nearly as fast as when I’d been the one in control.

  “You ready to do this?” Solo said through the comm. I could hear how pumped he was, and I wished I felt the same. But all I could focus on besides my job was the way my stomach twisted into fucking knots.

  “Yeah.” I couldn’t manage more than that, because as soon as the word was out of my mouth, Solo gunned it. He wasted no time getting to speed, but when he lifted up horizontally instead of at an angle, I groaned, knowing exactly what he was about to do.

  Seconds later, he turned us ninety degrees to lift off, the jet going straight up into the sky, a show-off stunt only the best of the best could pull off. Under normal circumstances, I lived for the adrenaline of that takeoff, but it wasn’t exactly easing me back into flying, the motherfucker. I was beginning to think this was punishment, not a way to help me out.

  Solo whooped as we sped into the blue, my anxiety skyrocketing along with his excitement. It was a good thing he was the one flying, because I wasn’t sure I’d be able to get us off the ground.

  “How’s it feel, bein’ back?” Solo said as he straightened us out, keeping to an invisible line for the moment. It gave my stomach time to settle.

  “Shut up.”

  “We can talk. We’re the only ones up here.”

  “I don’t want to talk.”

  There was a pause. “You’re not feeling it, are you?”

  “Just fly the fucking plane.”

  That was the wrong thing to say, because Solo chuckled and then went vertical again, swooping up and over as if moving in on a target. I focused on keeping my breathing steady, even as my eyes darted up at the canopy, like I was waiting for air to seep through.

  It’s not gonna happen. Just chill the hell out.

  As Solo went into a series of barrel rolls, I reminded myself that I’d done this hundreds of times. I didn’t need to think about all the things that could go wrong; I needed to stay in the moment.

  There. That was where the fear came in. All those what-ifs.

  “Awful quiet back there. You want to do some drawing?”

  “No.”

  “We can do your penis this time. I mean, you’ll have to help me out with the dimensions, but—”

  “We’re not drawing another sky dick, Solo. How long do we have to be up here, anyway?”

  “Uh oh. Looks like this joy ride is over.”

  I didn’t know what he was talking about at first, and it made my stomach drop to think that something had gone wrong. I scanned the instruments in front of me for an alarm, but everything was as it should be. It was when I looked up and out that I saw the other Hornet coming in fast on our six.

  “Shit. Who’s that?”

  A voice came through the comm. “Hey, boys. Mind if we join in?”

  Fucking Houdini.

  “Who let you interrupt our fun, Houdini? You can go home now.”

  “Aw, don’t be mad, Solo. Levy just wanted to see how you two handled a little one-on-one.”

  Gucci too? Houdini and Gucci were flying together?

  “Gooch, get the hell off our comm,” Solo said, pulling a hard left on their approach and flying by them as they switched channels.

  Shit. This wasn’t what I’d expected today. Fun easing in, my ass. “Did you know about this?” I asked.

  “Do I sound like I fucking knew?”

  No. No, he did not, and as Gucci maneuvered his jet in behind ours and got a lock, Solo cursed.

  “Fucking ass grabber,” Solo muttered. “I’ve told him time and time again not to grab my ass unless invited.” Then, without warning, he angled downward and descended in a stomach-churning nosedive that made me feel as though I were getting a facelift.

  As we plummeted toward the earth, I reminded myself that Solo knew what he was doing and we wouldn’t end up ash in a crater. He began to level out and ease back into the horizontal.

  My heart was pounding at a dangerously fast pace, but before I could start to panic, Solo’s voice came over the comm.

  “You see ’em anywhere?”

  I blinked, trying to regain my focus and some semblance of calm, and as I scoured the blue expanse on either side of us, I spotted Gucci and Houdini’s jet to our far left. I quickly spat out the coordinates to my pilot, and when Solo locked in on their location and said, “Oh yeah, I see those fuckers,” a feeling other than fear washed over me—excitement.

  Solo angled the Hornet in their direction, and as he gunned the engines, the two of us were thrown back into our seats from the force of the Gs. He came up behind and under them to—

  “What? You gonna grab his ass now?”

  Solo let out a booming laugh as he locked in on Gucci, then said, in the cocksure tone I’d come to associate with him, “Hell no. But I am gonna kick it.”

  As the radar zeroed in on Gucci and Houdini, it alerted them that they were now in our sights, and Gucci began a series of rolls in an attempt to shake us free. But Solo was the better pilot here, and that became blatantly obvious as he matched Gucci roll for roll, the lock never broken, the target his for the taking.

  “Nice fucking try,” Solo called out as though they could actually hear him, and when Gucci took a ninety-degree angle and pushed the engines just about as hard as they could go, Solo was right there on the vertical.

  My pulse raced, my heart thundered, but instead of feeling nauseated, I had the insane urge to hoot and holler on the comm, because hot damn, I felt unreal, this felt unreal, and when the mock missile engaged showing Gucci and Houdini to be blown clear out of the sky, I said, “Hell fucking yeah.”

  As Gucci’s plane arced over and headed down to level off, Solo laughed and did the same, pulling in beside him so he could give his friend the bird. As Gucci and Houdini pulled off to head back to base, Solo came over the comm.

  “How you feeling back there?”

  I couldn’t lie even if I’d wanted to. “Fucking amazing.”