Page 82 of Deadly Aloha
Once that was done, I looked down myself at my wet, flaccid dick and cum-splattered chest. Glancing around, I spotted some napkins on the counter of the wet bar. I stood, keeping a hold of my shorts with one hand so they didn’t fall as I walked. Picking up some napkins, I started to wipe the jizz off my chest when I noticed the plane was utterly quiet. No one was speaking. I looked up to see all five of my club brothers were staring at me.
“What?”
“Did you just fuck Lu to sleep without even being in the same time zone as her?” Tommy asked, a hint of awe in his voice.
I went back to cleaning myself up. “She’s mywahine. I know what she needs even if she doesn’t.”
“Arrogance is not one of his character flaws,” Spirit wisecracked.
I waggled my eyebrows at both of them. “You’re all just jealous mywahineis so perfect. No other woman will ever compare.”
Both men snorted, but Tangaloa argued. “I’m not jealous. No offense to you and Lu, but I don’t want that. I had it and it broke me. Never again.”
“Famous last words of any bachelor,” the twins said from their seats behind mine.
I tossed out the dirty napkins. “You two do realize how freaky it is when you talk like that. Getting one or two words, I get, but full sentences? Exactly? That’s just weird.”
They grinned at me. I swear the twin that had been wearing the Thing Two cut had been on the aisle seat, but now he was by the window. Or maybe they’d just switched cuts?
I shook my head, not wanting to think about it. Zipping up my pants, I headed back to my seat. I tossed Tangaloa his phone back. “Here you go, one cum-free phone.”
Tangaloa held it up between his thumb and pointer finger like it was poisonous. “Mahalo. I think. Does anyone have any sanitizer spray?”
Chuckling, I sat back down and closed my eyes. We still had hours to go and I could use the shuteye. I didn’t know what condition we’d find Nishi in, but I knew one thing for sure: the clock was ticking on her captor, Weatherby Dalton-Jones IV. He would die slow, bloody, and in more pain than he ever dreamed possible. And my face would be the last he would ever see before I removed him from this plane of existence.
We toucheddown in Teterboro around eight in the morning their time, which was two in the morning for us. We weren’t dragging our feet though. This close to finally finding Nishi, we were all running on adrenaline and what little sleep we were able to get on the airplane. If any of us noticed that one of the twins always stayed awake as if to keep watch while his brother was sleeping, none of us said anything. Personally, I was shocked they did something differently, yet somehow still together.
The fact that one of them had to stay awake so the other could sleep was telling, and frankly, none of my business. It did however make me wonder if what little I knew of their harsh childhood was just the tip of the volcano.
We departed the plane in a back terminal where private passengers could depart. Three men, two motorcycles, and an SUV waited for us. I stepped down the stairs first, throwing my cut over the thermal shirt I’d been forced to put on. It wasn’t Russia-cold, but it was still November in New York. The wind bit with razor teeth.
Boots were back on my feet, which I was only grateful for because there was fucking frost on the ground in the predawn hour.
A man with a thick brown beard climbed off of his bike and headed to meet me at the bottom of the stairs.
“Paniolo?”
I nodded once, holding out my hand. “You must be Hurricane.”
He grunted. “I know you want to hit the ground running,” he said in a heavy accent with elongated vowels. I couldn’t tell if hematched me in muscle due to the large winter coat covering his top half but he was roughly my height. “My man, Reacher, will be going with you.” The man next to the SUV gave me a quick nod in acknowledgement. “He’ll be able to get ahold of me if you need anything else. Capone said you had your own weapons?”
I nodded. “We’re covered. I appreciate your assistance.”
“You would do the same if our locations were reversed.”
More or less because I had to now that I was wearing this cut on my back, but I didn’t say that out loud. Lu would say I was growing as a person, being willing to help thehaole.Iwould say I made a deal with a Mo’o named Elrik Jameson. Mo’o were devilish, shapeshifting creatures whose ultimate goal was protection of their water source, but they, like Jameson, tended to go about it in violent and terrifying ways.
“If you’re ever in Hawai‘i…” I let the sentence hang.
Hurricane nodded once and then headed back to his bike. He and the other man with the motorcycle revved their engines and then drove off with a final wave. I questioned the man’s sanity for riding a motorcycle in this weather. Then again, I’d ridden mine through an actual hurricane… So maybe we were all a bit insane on some level.
The six of us disembarked. The cold was making my back stiffen, which increased the pressure on my wounds that Tommy had already had to restitch once. Wearing fucking clothing also meant having to have the wounds bandaged up so the stitching didn’t pull on the restrictive shirt.
I was so fucking sick of clothing that I was likely going to go full nude for weeks after returning home. There was a good chance I could get Lu to join me. My dreary attitude certainly picked up atthatthought.
I approached the third man that had been left behind. He was tall, though not as broad as me. He had three braids down the center of his head and a pointed beard.
He took my offered hand. “Reacher. Your Tech’s been in touch with me. He gave me?—”
