Breaking Sky(50)

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Should I be recording this? Seems like Nyx admitting she was wrong is a big deal.”


Chase fought a smirk. “You’re thinking of Sylph. I’m wrong all the time. I’m just usually too fast for people to notice.” She meant in the sky, but the sentence found a different meaning. Chase was too fast on the ground. Too fast with people. But then, slowing down left you vulnerable. Like now.

What was happening? Every time she talked to this guy, she spilled feelings. “I have to go,” she said, but he grabbed her arm.

“You don’t have to go.”

“You have no clue what I have to do.”

“Well, I don’t accept your apology until you tell me what you meant by ‘guts have costs.’”

She pulled her arm back and looked at him from the side. “I don’t need you to accept my apology.” But she did. She could feel it all over. She’d been an idiot—a bad pilot. And that was the only thing she could not afford to be at the Star.

He raised his eyebrows at her like he knew these things, waiting for her to speak.

“That saying…guts have costs…that’s something my dad told me the day I got this.” She held out the scar on the back of her arm. “I was trying to run the recruits’ landmine obstacle course on his base. I didn’t make it.”

“Then what happened?”

She almost snapped “That’s none of your business” out of habit. But she kind of wanted to unload. Tristan had brought this sort of purging into her life with his innocent questions and “no judgment” looks. If only she could find a way to talk to Pippin the way she’d opened up with Tristan…

Her eyes moved to Tristan’s slowly. Carefully. “I nearly bled out. I had to get a transfusion, and by the time I woke up, I was a few thousand miles away. Back in my mom’s apartment.” Chase remembered being groggy and bandaged, her nose already drying out from the stale smoke in the air. “The next time I talked to him was…”

“A few weeks ago?”

“That obvious?” She took a deep breath. “He never wanted me there to begin with. I have no clue why he invited me.” Chase lined up all the events that had brought Tourn into her life. And then she found herself reliving them. Aloud. “Sixteen years after the Philippines bombing, a jackass journalist paid for the name of the pilot who dropped the bomb. I didn’t know who my dad was until I saw him on TV making that speech.” She glanced at Tristan. He nodded slowly, proving he knew what she was talking about.

“I’m proud to have served my country so profoundly,” Tourn had said, seeming the best sort of steely-eyed. Maybe Chase should have thought that he was a monster like everyone else, but she already had one of those beside her, puffing like an industry smokestack.

“Janice fell off the couch when she saw him. Burned a hole in the rug with her cigarette.”

“Janice?”

“My mom. She told me to write to him. She wanted money, and she could see all the shiny stars on his uniform.” Chase shrugged. “I told him I wanted to be a pilot, so he hijacked my dream. Drilled me all summer like he was going to help me get into the military, and then he returned me when I failed.”

She took a deep breath that filled places she hadn’t known were empty. “So that’s my insignificant tragedy. I didn’t want to risk Pippin’s life yesterday. I just sometimes have…blind spots.” She folded her arms over her chest. “I know how to be better.”

But first she had to stop talking. Why was it so hard? She reached for the side of her head at the same time that Tristan did. Their fingers met over the knot on her skull. It wasn’t electric to touch Tristan. Not in the slightest. It was worse—it was welcome. She fought the urge to lean into his shoulder and rest.

“I’m sorry about knocking you out,” he said. “I tried not to mangle your face.”

“It’s too bad. You would have scored points with Sylph for uglying me up.”

“Sylph scares the crap out of me. Frightens Romeo too, although he’s still interested. Nothing more terrifying-slash-tantalizing than an Amazonian blonde.”

“Sylph would be delighted to hear that. Riot calls her Jet Fighter Barbie.”

“That’s kind of perfect. What about you?”

She rubbed the toes of her boots together. “Riot calls me more unpleasant names.”

He tried to cover, which was kind of sweet. “But there’s nothing plastic about you. Nothing predictable. Makes you a fearsome pilot. You do realize you’re like a living legend to some of these people.”

Oh, so they were going to exchange flirty compliments now. Chase bit back her smile and felt a door open in that moment, something between them that had its own breeze. “Because I’m so legendary, tell me what happened before we raced. When you fell behind.” Tristan looked away, but she kept going. “You’re not flying like yourself. I might not have watched tapes of your style, but I’ve seen enough to know you have a natural tilt to your wings.”

“It wastes fuel,” he said automatically.

“It’s you. Don’t fight how you fly.”


“Is that a piece of your wisdom?”

“That’s the whole cake, Tristan,” she said. He held off a laugh, and she wanted to ask why. “Is it nerves? Are you remembering JAFA up there?”