Omar smiles. “Of course. The tripod is in my go-bag.”
Anders gleefully skips to the bag and rummages until he finds what he’s looking for. “I’ve gotta call Hop!”
“Fantastic idea. You know how he loves to watch.”
With a shoulder shimmy, Anders hums to himself as he sets up the tripod, updates from the Wimberley office filling his screen. This younger team really is very quick.
OBT’s eyes track the phone as Anders pulls up the video chat.
“Anders, my brother!” A tattooed man with a rough Mafia-infused accent appears on the screen. He takes in the decaying cabin and smiles.
It is not a comforting smile.
“Well, well, well. What do we have here?”
“Hop, buddy! Remember that guy who’s been following Rami?”
“Orange Bow Tie?”
“Yes!” Anders pans the camera to show Hop—full name Hopper Hughes—the bound man, along with the tools he has stashed in his cabin. He points out the man’s makeshift gag, and Hopper giggles.
“Can you believe this asshole was following Rami around the Pecan Street Festival?” Omar asks.
“That wasn’t very nice of him,” Hopper answers, then takes on a serious expression. “Was Rami aware of him?”
The dads share a disappointed look. “No, but we’re working on that.”
“I’m happy to come down there if the Wildlings need a refresher.”
Omar chews at his lower lip, then nods. “Honestly, Hop, I think you’d be the best one for it.”
“Anyway,” Anders says, returning to the main show, “Omar says I can use my imagination, and I figured you’d want to watch. You know, to take notes.”
“Whatever,” Hopper snorts. “I’ll be sure to call out suggestions. Don’t want you tickling his senses with your weak-sauce skills.”
Anders’ mouth drops open. “How very dare you.”
Hop throws his head back, laughing. “Nah, brother. Thanks for dialing me in. People up here have been too well-behaved for my liking. Haven’t been part of a good bloodletting in at least a month.”
Omar whistles softly. “Far too long, my friend.”
Liam, Hopper’s handsome husband, joins him on screen. “What’s happening, love?” he asks between sweet kisses along Hopper’s jawline. “Ooh, did Anders catch a good one?”
Hopper nods significantly. “Some dweeb thought he could hurt Rami.”
Liam gives a low whistle. “Who the fuck goes after aWildling?”
“An idiot,” Hopper provides. “A dead one at that.”
OBT goes whale-eyed as sweat pours from his hairline.
Anders twirls the wickedly sharp knife in his hand, contemplating. “Hey, Hop? You ever see me do the pain point thing with just the tips of my fingers?”
“LikeKill Bill?”
“Eh, kinda. But my way keeps them alive.” He grins. “And it’swaymore painful.”
“Nah, man. Can’t wait to watch you do your thing.” Hoptilts his head, then leans in, framing the scene with his hands. “Wait. The light in that space isperfect. I can practically smell the mold and rotting food. Do you mind if I grab my sketch pad?”
