LUCIAN "L" VITALE'S POINT OF VIEW
The jet door hisses open, and warm air hits us first-thick with diesel fumes, damp earth, and something sharp I haven't smelled in years. Home.
"Fucking hell—how long's it been? I forgot this place smells like smoke and rain and everything else wrapped up together!" Kidd bellows the second his feet hit the tarmac, loud enough to make the ground crew glance over. Of course he'd be the one to break the silence-always playing to an audience.
Kieran smacks him on the back of the head, hard enough to make a dull thwack. "Will you shut up? You're yelling like you just won the lottery." He snaps it like he's annoyed, but I catch the curve of his lip before he hides it.
"Bitchier than a bear with a thorn in its paw, Kier! Go find yourself a woman and work that out-Christ." Kidd rubs his skull, scowling.
