Kylie Bray (Love, Hate and Billions) novel Chapter 17

My feet pain, just as my heart squeezes in agony with every step I take closer to the jet. I don't see but hear Vincent leave and for the first time I am not going to worry about that, I know I have to let him go.

He was never mine to begin with. And though I bleed in my reality that our story was never a story, just a figment of my imagination, I know forgetting him is what I have to do.

My steps slow down as I spot the guy standing next to Michael's Chrome Jet, near the air-stairs wearing A Satan Sniper's Motorcycle Club jacket, which they call a cut. He is looking like a model from those tattoo biker books Diamond keeps begging me to buy every damn month.

What a fine piece of meat with those ripped dark Jeans. And maybe if I wasn't so close to the brink of breaking down I would have told him just that. He doesn't see me looking at him, as his attention is on his phone.

So I stare at him a second or two longer before I continue moving closer to the Aircraft. Diamond is probably already inside the jet ready to leave. I scan the place for Kevin as I walk on closer to the Chrome machine. I almost miss Kevin, as his profile comes into view from the opening of the Jet beckoning me to hurry.

He says something to the biker and the guy moves up the ramp two steps at a time.

I don't look at the guy again as I get to the ramp and ascend the twelve steps up at a leisured pace. Preparing myself for what I have to do, and that is to be focused on finding my brother. I can mend my heart another day.

Kevin engulfs me into a hug, for my benefit. I hold him tight, inhaling his familiar smell, enjoying the comfort of his warmth. His opium scent washes over me in a protective comfort.

“Michael sure doesn't give me a time to freshen up does he.”

I roll my eyes, making light of the situation.

“Hello to you too baby girl, saw Vincent, everything good.”

Kevin's blue gaze locks on to mine, so aware, and sharp with focus that I drop my own, not willing him to see that I am breaking inside.

I shrug in response, I don't have an answer and with Kevin I never need one.

Feeling the heat of my brother's dead blank look, I still don't meet his gaze.

He pinches my cheek, something he has done these past few years, “Come, let's get you inside.”

I bend my head and walk into the Aircraft.

The cream and beige leather sofa seats, silver edgings, black marbled tables, and gold cushions I bought in Egypt last year feel just like home. Michael didn't design this jet for extravagance, he designed it for speed and business and that is what it has. A classiness without too much of luxury that borders on Luxury private Jets.

We have a plane for luxury, is what he said to the reporters when they got the inside view.

The six rows of seats are empty besides the two occupied on either end. Diamond at the back already with her laptop open and recliner up. And the biker seated comfortably in the front, one seat up from the first row.

Deciding it is best to give Diamond her space, I walk to the front. The biker's back is facing me so he can't see me approaching. I move to the empty seat across from him finally getting a good view of this guy.

“Names, Storm.”

He removes his sunglasses and what I see in his small familiar brown eyes, and frown etched onto his stubble-filled face tells me exactly why he has the name.

“Kylie Bray,” I say in greeting.

“Yeah, I've seen you a few times at the clubhouse, chatting Zero's ear off.”

His attentive gaze tracks to my mouth as he says this.

I grin at that, surprised at his strong Southern accent.