Home > Turbulent Waters (Billionaire Aviators #3)(15)

Turbulent Waters (Billionaire Aviators #3)(15)
Author: Melody Anne

So what was different now? Though she didn’t want to say aloud the answer, the difference was Nick. From the second she’d looked into the man’s eyes―and then fallen into his lap―she’d felt a connection she hadn’t felt with another man.

How could he be the devil if he inspired loyalty within her? She couldn’t help but to remember how her father had always told her about people in angel’s clothing while the devil resided within their souls. Was she such a fool that she didn’t know the difference? Maybe.

As Chloe turned a corner while jogging, she saw a magnificent view of the bay. She went down a trail that led her to a dock. Immediately Chloe was enchanted. Her feet slowed as she stepped onto the dock, finding a beautiful gazebo on the end.

Shedding her shoes, she hung her legs over the edge, the icy water giving sweet relief to her feet. She was sure the water was only this cold because the day had yet to heat it up.

Leaning back, she closed her eyes and felt peace wash over her. That was, until her phone rang. This wasn’t a welcome tone. There weren’t a whole lot of contacts on her Android, and each one had its own ringtone.

Her eyes snapped back open, and she thought about ignoring the call, but she knew that would only lead to worse repercussions. She either took the call and faced her father now, or he would bully her until she did.

Pressing the button on her ear set, she said a meek hello.

“Why haven’t you given me an update?” her father’s voice snapped into her abused eardrum.

“I just arrived a couple days ago, sir,” she said. He wasn’t dad, daddy, or even father. He was sir, and if she was stupid enough to forget that, she would certainly pay for it when she next saw him.

“I expect nightly reports,” he snapped as if speaking to a soldier who was showing disrespect for an officer.

“I can’t risk calling you daily. If Nick overhears, I will be kicked out of the house,” she said.

Though Chloe did fear exactly that happening, it wasn’t the biggest reason she didn’t want to speak to her father nightly. She dreaded each time they spoke, hated it even more when it was in person.

Her father kept tabs on her because she was his property. He reminded her, and had reminded her brother often, that they wouldn’t exist if it weren’t for him. Because she knew that was the truth, she did feel loyalty to him—but felt no love.

“You will do what you’re told.” There wasn’t an or in that sentence. He had no doubt she would fall into line.

“Yes, sir,” she said. Her resentment was building by the moment. It was a new feeling for Chloe, one she didn’t quite comprehend.

“What have you found out so far?” he asked.

“I’ve only been here for two days,” she said again.

“Don’t you talk back to me,” he snapped. “Two days is plenty of time to find evidence.”

“I was just getting settled in and working on therapy. I haven’t found anything yet,” she told him.

“What?” he yelled, making her wince as she turned her phone volume down a couple more clicks. “You are doing therapy on the man?”

“That’s why I’m here, sir. If I don’t do the therapy, he certainly won’t allow me to stay in the home,” she pointed out.

“I don’t like this. You better not help him,” her father pointed out.

“I can’t purposely try to impede his therapy,” she said, the exasperation coming through in her voice, though she was trying to tamp it down.

“I might need to pay you a visit. It seems you are forgetting where your loyalty belongs,” he threatened.

A shudder passed through Chloe. The last thing she wanted was another lesson from her father about respect. Those sessions normally ended with bruises she had to work hard to cover up. If people truly knew what a monster he was, she feared he would have nothing else to lose and therefore wouldn’t need to hold back.

“I will keep you updated, sir. I’m sorry I haven’t been doing that,” she said, hoping the panic in her voice wasn’t coming through as loudly as she felt it was.

He was silent for several heartbeats, and Chloe could practically feel the smug satisfaction coming through the line.

“Very well. I expect to hear from you tomorrow,” he told her.

“Yes, sir,” she said. She just wanted the call to end.

Finally, it did. He didn’t bother saying good-bye. He just hung up. She wasn’t worth the time for him to waste words on. Chloe didn’t care.

With a heavy heart, she pulled her feet out of the water and dried them as best she could before slipping her shoes and socks back on. She was too worn out to begin jogging again, so she simply made her way back up to the house.

It was a new day, and she wasn’t going to let her father ruin it for her. She had enough stress to deal with―and a patient she had to keep at arm’s length. At least she couldn’t say her life was dull.


When a person was flying over the ocean with sixty-knot winds and raging seas, time stopped having any meaning. You weren’t going to rescue anyone if your helicopter had no chance of making it back to land because you’d been foolish enough to run out of fuel.

But when a person was held up at home due to an injury, time began to have a whole other meaning. Nick had never been one to glance frequently at a clock, not even in his downtime. But since the wreck, as a day turned into two, and then a week, and then a month and longer, Nick found that time seemed to be the one constant he was aware of.

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