Undefeated by Emily Kimelman

Author:Emily Kimelman [Kimelman, Emily]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Emily Kimelman

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Brock wakes up as our altitude drops. The lush green of a private island with a helicopter pad carved into a hillside looms below.

“That’s impressive,” I say. Brock looks over at me, a question in his gaze. “You can just sleep like that, anywhere?”

“Yes,” he answers. “It’s an excellent skill to have in my line of work.”

“I bet. How do you do it? I’d like to learn.”

“It’s a breathing technique. Takes practice but once you learn it, you can sleep anywhere, anytime.”

“Sounds amazing.”

The helicopter touches the ground and a uniformed staff member runs over in a crouch to open my door. “You’ll have to teach it to me,” I say.

“Anytime,” Brock promises, then slips his headphones off as the sound of the engine cuts. My door opens and Blue leaps out, frightening the shit out of the guy who opened it. He jumps back and yelps. Blue stretches and yawns.

“He’s friendly,” I promise.

The guy whose name tag reads “Rai” nods, not taking his eyes off my beast of a dog. I climb out, staying low to avoid the still-rotating blades, and then move with Blue to the edge of the pad, where another uniformed staff member waits. She’s a middle-aged woman with dark hair pulled back into a slick bun at the base of her neck. She smiles at me and gives a slight bow of welcome. Her name tag reads “Mahana”.

Brock, still wearing my small duffel, carries both weapons cases as he crosses to us. The head wrap stays in place even in the dying wind of the rotor. Rai waits by Robert’s door as he finishes whatever one needs to do after landing a helicopter. His mirror sunglasses flash in the dying light of the day and a thrill of something spikes through me. That’s my husband. The one who just coolly landed the helicopter. Yeah…that one. Oh my god, brain! Shut up!

Robert joins us moments later, taking one of the cases from Brock.

“May I take your luggage, sir?” Rai asks.

Robert shakes his head. “No, thank you.”

“This way,” Mahana says. “Your rooms are ready.”

We follow her down a wooden walkway set above the jungle floor. The lush vegetation bows over us, blocking out all but a thin sliver of sky.

A large palapa comes into view with open walls and a straw roof. Inside are seating areas, a check-in desk, and a shop with resort wear in the window—flowing kaftans and wide-brimmed hats.

We move through it without stopping for check-in and continue onto a new wooden walkway that leads out over the placid bay, passing bungalow suites that look eerily similar to the last hotel’s. Must be a Bora Bora thing. Blue’s nose brushes against my hip.

“Here is one of the rooms, sir,” Mahana says as she stops in front of a cottage.

“Thank you,” Brock answers.

“Go get cleaned up and then reach out to Yugi. I will call Brevnech,” Robert says. Brock takes off my bag and goes to hand it to Robert, but I intercept.

“I’ve got it, thanks,” I say, totally capable of carrying my little duffel around all by myself.

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