The chopper was ready within the hour, blades carving the night air into something loud and alive, and when I stepped onto the helipad, I felt my blood wake up, because helicopters do something to a man’s sense of gravity; they remind you that the ground is optional if you have enough money and enough nerve, and I watched the city shrink beneath us as we lifted away, Manhattan falling back into its glittering grid like a board game that someone else could play for once.
Zane joined me mid-flight, sliding into the seat opposite mine with the kind of casual confidence only a man who has followed you into too many messes can wear without shame, and he didn’t ask me why I needed this, because he didn’t have to, because he’s seen my patterns and he knows that I don’t chase leisure, I chase con
