This time, Ethan chuckled and shook his head. Tears were dying to escape, but he closed his eyes and willed them back.The only way through is forward.
“I think you’re crazy, Mr. Blayne Dickenson. But for some reason, I love crazy.” Ethan let Blayne pull him in for another hug and laid his head against his chest. Ethan closed his eyes, took a deep breath and smelled the comfort of Blayne’s scent around him. He let out a whistle, pushed away from Blayne and shook his head, like he was shaking out the morning fog. “Now what?”
“We get ready and go see what Ms. Ponytail wants?”
“Her name is Richardson.” Ethan stopped for a second. “At least, I assumed that’s Richardson. God, what if that’s not even Richardson?”
“I’m pretty sure that’s Richardson. If it wasn’t, I don’t think my brief outburst wouldn’t have gone over as well as it did.”
“How so?” Ethan asked.
“I tested a theory I had yesterday when I met Denzili. Something Dr. Hennigan said made me realize their group has a code. They don’t kill indiscriminately—”
“I know about a plane full of people who would disagree with that.”
“I mean, they don’t just kill for the sake of killing. In fact, killing is the last step for them. They won’t shy away from it but must have a reason to do it. Not only that, but there also seems to be a clear hierarchy related to who gets to decide who lives and dies. And those people down at Denzili and Richardson’s level don’t make those decisions. They’re the pawns.”
“A chess metaphor? Really?”
“Think about it. Denzili and Richardson are pawns. Her grandmother’s the queen. Her mother’s clearly the king.”
“What does that make Hennigan, a bishop?”
“Nah, a knight. Bishops are great and can do a lot of damage when they’re on their own. Knights rely on their pawns to get in the bishop’s way and form points of support for the knight.”
“You realize I’ve never played chess, right?”
“Uh, now I do. We’ll have to rectify that at some point. It’s all about strategy. And right now, we’ve found ourselves in a chess game played by some scary talented players.”
“Are we sure they’re even playing chess? I feel like I’m playing Chutes and Ladders.”
Blayne chuckled. “Oh, they’re playing chess.”
“So, are we pawns or just cannon fodder in this little analogy of yours?”
Blayne’s brow furrowed, and his gaze went distant for a couple of seconds before he slowly said, “We’re new players on the board. We’re neither the black nor the white side. We’re a complication. The question becomes, whose life are we complicating? We complicate things for this domestic terrorist group, the CLA. I’ve never been a big fan of right-wing extremists, so they seem like the worse of two evils.”
Ethan shook his head. He wasn’t sure if he ultimately agreed with Blayne, but he couldn’t find fault in the man’s logic. “What now?”
“Let’s pull ourselves together, get dressed and make nice with our new favorite assassin.”
Blayne stood up and pulled Ethan up with him. They brushed their teeth, completed a quick shit, shower and shave before getting dressed and heading into the living room.
Ethan’s nose was met with a fantastic fragrance. “Whoa!” he said absently as he walked toward the kitchen.
“I made a big breakfast,” the woman said. “Your room still had their air of sex in it, so I figured you two needed to replenish your energy.” The woman gestured to the kitchen table, which had been set. “Please take a seat. Coffee?”
“Yes,” Ethan said before quickly adding, “please.”
The woman smiled at him. “So polite. That’s one thing I love about you Southerners, your politeness. Faced with almost anything, you’re going to be polite.”
Ethan noticed the hint of an edge in the statement that worried him, but he smiled and said, “Thank you.”
She poured them coffee and set down plates with omelets, toast and jam.
“Bon appétit,” she said, sitting at the table and taking a swig of her coffee. Ethan and Blayne hesitated for a second. “Don’t worry. They’re not poisoned.”
Blayne cut into his omelet and forked a piece into his mouth. A sound came out of Blayne, one Ethan had only heard when they were in bed.
