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However, he’s doing a decent job of making a path for us, including pushing people to the side, some of which flop onto the ground like he’s Hulk smashing his way through this shit.
Never mind the fact that I want to wring his neck.
The entire band decided to come back with me since we had to cancel the shows for this weekend.
I’m under strict orders to rest due to too many concussions in the past.
Even though I don’t have one now.
Which means that Lugh is with Mac and the others as they attempt to leave the same airport from another extraction point while we push through this bullshit at the front where people expect you to leave the fucking airport.
Forever the distraction.
Since I held my sobbing twin, I’ve learned a thing or two about the man in front of me.
Jordan “Jay” Kauffman.
The guard newer to Sentry who only has a job as long as Mac vouches for him.
He volunteered for this particular situation, which I’m convinced is a way to get away from my twin. I’m not ok with that.
Jordan “Jay” Kauffman can suck a dick.
“Rex! Look here!” I tuck my shoulders and press my nose to Jordan’s shoulder, effectively hiding my face.
Yeah, motherfucker. What’s it like to be used.
A pap falls into Jordan’s front, staggering us back and putting a painful amount of pressure on my aching nose.
“Fuck!” I curse and regain my footing, thanks to Ian’s wall of a chest pressing me forward.
“Sorry, boss,” Jordan says over his shoulder. I’m not sure who it’s meant for, so I give him a shitty look anyways.
“Suck it, Jordan. Do better or don’t volunteer.” My words are harsh and direct to his ear. So much so that he clamps his fucking mouth shut, gives a short nod, and presses onward.
We clear the rest of the sidewalk to the waiting car in half the time it took to get through the handsy press and I’m shoved into the backseat alone.
Jordan’s back slams into the glass as he pushes at people to keep them away from the car.
Ian slips into the passenger seat and clips his belt in place. Fists tap on the car, a desperate attempt to get my attention for a money shot.
“Let’s go.” He speaks to the driver, someone I’ve not met before and we ease out into the traffic without severely injuring anyone blocking our path.
I think.
I pull out my phone as we lap three streets over from Aria’s for the fifth time to make sure there’s no tail and type up a message.
Me: Be there in a few, babe.
There’s a response before I can even lock the phone
Aria: Fuck yes!
Me: You’ll definitely be saying that out loud, too.
Aria: The girls are here. They’re still pissy.
Me: Then I’ll just take that sweet ass upstairs and they can listen to me make love to you. Fuck ‘em, babe.
