Page 15 of Jolene's Justice

“I’m Dante De Lorenzo.” Dante saved Finch from the awkwardness of having to formulate a response by smoothly interjecting. Cynthia had no choice but to release Finch so he could shake Dante’s proffered hand. Her pout was so absurdly over-the-top that it was impossible not to laugh.

“Atticus Mobey,” Finch replied, his eyes meeting Dante’s with a grateful nod as he shook his hand.

Dante smiled and tipped his head. “Ah. Now I understand the nickname.”

“Still a stupid nickname,” grumbled Grady, receiving a smack on the back of the head from Cynthia. Beside her, Finch flinched like he was the one who’d been slapped. A curious glance in his direction revealed a tension in his jaw.

“Shut up, Grady.” Cynthia’s order drew her attention to the feuding couple and away from Finch’s strange reaction.

“So, how do you know our Jolene?” Dante asked.

“Since I couldn’t get an immediate flight, Finch was kind enough to fly me down so I could get to Dad faster.”

“Well, then. I guess we owe you a debt of gratitude,” proclaimed Dante.

“You some kind of hotshot top gun pilot or something?” Grady asked, an unmistakable note of derision in his tone.

“That’s hot,” Cynthia purred.

“Something like that,” Finch replied, ignoring Cynthia’s inappropriate interest.

“You military?” Dante wondered.

“Former.”

“What branch?”

“Air Force.”

Grady apparently couldn’t help himself. “Why’d you get out? Couldn’t hack it anymore?”

Before anyone could respond, a sharp gasp cut through the silence. “I knew your name sounded familiar,” Cynthia cried, holding her phone. “You’re that helicopter pilot who saved Marcus Rayne.” She held up her phone to show an article featuring the story of when the A-list actor was injured on a hike and needed to be rescued by the Nighthawks.

“What are you talking about?” Grady grabbed her arm to move the phone into his line of sight.

“He’s a Nighthawk.”

“Never heard of it,” mumbled Grady.

“They’re heroes,” Cynthia proclaimed.

“Whatever,” Grady muttered, turning back to his beer.

“They help people, jackass.” Their relationship was so bizarre. When they looked at each other, you could see the love there. But otherwise, they acted like bitter enemies. Strange.

“I help plenty.” He gave her a look that said there was something Jolene was missing. She tried to remember what Grady did for a living but couldn’t think of it.

Cynthia deflated slightly. “Oh, well, yeah. I guess you’re just as good. But that’s your job. The Nighthawks don’t get paid.”

“Then how do they pay their bills? Fuel for that fancy helicopter ain’t cheap.”

“Jesus, you’re ignorant. They get donations.”

A tingle rushed down her spine as Finch leaned in and whispered in her ear. “Do they need us for this argument?”

She snickered. “Probably not.”

“Good. Let’s get some food. I’m starving.”

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