Embarrassment roared through Ellie and she punched Connor in his rock-hard arm. “Shut up,” she hissed. When he glowered, she took a measured step back from the soldier. “I can act normally,” she said, her voice only shaking a little bit.
“You slept with him?” Deke barked, his Scottish brogue emerging deep.
“None of your business,” Ellie answered, lifting her chin. She wanted to die right then and there. Yep. She sure did.
“It’s my business if he’s a bloody terrorist,” Deke bellowed.
Ellie winced. “He’s not.” No way in hell. “Now let me get back to the computer so I can figure out what the hell is going on.”
Connor glanced down at his phone. “Orders?”
“Bring him in. If he gives you any problems, shoot him,” Deke said evenly before clicking off.
Connor shut his phone. “You sure you can do this?”
“Yes.” She started typing. There was no way the sweet kid she’d known in college had turned into a terrorist she’d just had the most amazing night of her life with. Hugh had to be innocent.
He just had to be.
Chapter Seven
I’m not sure who’s the bigger threat—my friends or my enemies. This world sucks right now.
—Hugh Johnson, Brigade Notes
Hugh settled back in the seat of the private plane, his spidey senses clamoring. Connor had been even quieter than usual as they’d driven to and boarded the plane, which was nearly impossible, and Ellie wouldn’t look him in the eye. Was she regretting the previous night?
God, he hoped not. He really wanted to do it again. As soon as possible.
Connor sat behind him, while Ellie sat across the aisle. Within minutes, they were lifting into the sky.
Tension rolled through the interior. He cleared his throat. “How about somebody tell me—” The cool press of metal against his neck stopped his words. What the fuck? “Connor? Any particular reason your gun is against my jugular?” he asked, his own hand inching toward the gun still on his thigh.
“Hand it over, barrel down. Or I shoot you,” Connor said, his voice a deep echo behind Hugh.
Hugh eyed Ellie, who was watching with wide eyes. Ah, shit. She looked scared. “No problem.” He grasped the gun and held it over his shoulder, where Connor easily took it. “It’s okay, Ellie Mae.” Why he was reassuring her when she obviously knew what was going on was a mystery he didn’t really care to explore.
Something cold and silver encircled his wrist, and within a second, he was cuffed to the chair. “Seriously?” he asked, partially turning to face her after Connor had secured him. “What’s going on?”
“We found your file.” Connor slapped him almost congenially on the arm and crossed around to face him in the seat in front of him. He smiled, his teeth a white flash against his dark skin. “It looks like I get to use you for target practice.”
Hugh sighed, his chest filling. Figured. It just fucking figured. What the hell should he do now? “I’m not dead, so I’m thinking there’s a question or two out there.” Hopefully.
“No.” Connor kicked back, no expression in those hard eyes. “Eleanor argued effectively to keep me from leaving you behind the hotel in a heap of death, so we’re bringing you along. It makes no difference whether you push up flowers in Arizona or Missouri. Different flowers, I guess,” he mused.
This guy was a bucket of fun, wasn’t he? Was he slightly insane? Hugh leaned forward. “Have you survived Scorpius?”
“Nope. I just do what needs to be done,” Connor said, his voice a deep baritone. “You might need to be done.”
Jesus. “Here I thought we were forming a brotherhood,” Hugh murmured, wanting to kick Connor in the head but not wanting to upset Ellie. He cut her a look. “Thanks for keeping him from shooting me in the back.”
She gulped and nodded, her eyes huge. “You have some explaining to do.”
Connor coughed. “That wouldn’t have happened, by the way. When I shoot you, you’ll see it coming. I give you my word.”
Hugh slowly turned his head to view the soldier. “You’re all heart.” This guy was colder than cold. Or maybe just messing with him to get information. Either way, Hugh could see how it’d be damn effective.
“So?” Ellie asked. “Explain.”
