The wheels hit the runway and bounced. So did my stomach. Cy had stayed close through the entire descent. His thigh pressed against mine. He didn't say anything. Neither did I. Shade noticed. I knew he did. But he didn't comment, didn't look over. Just kept staring straight ahead as we taxied toward the private hangar.
The moment the door opened, heat poured in from every angle. The air clung heavy and wet, thick with humidity that turned every breath sticky. Florida was something, but the Deep South was something else altogether.
This was where we'd grown up. Shade, Cy, and me. Red dirt roads. Blinding sun. Heat so thick it made you forget what cold felt like. "This f*****g heat," Deonte muttered behind me, already tugging at his collar. He'd hated it since the day he arrived at fourte
