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Luke Turner ambles over to the long table and sets a small suitcase on it. He unzips the bag and starts removing items from it—a laptop, electrodes, a blindfold, and some other electronic doohickeys I don't recognize.
Jack raises his arms and shouts, "Quiet, please."
All remaining murmurs from the crowd cease.
"Everything is ready," Jack announces. "The radical intervention is about to begin."
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Hugh
Am I frightened? No. Despite Jack's announcement, I do not give a toss about whatever he and his cohorts plan to do to me. They mean to chase me away from Kate, I'm sure, but they needn't bother. I know Kate doesn't want me. Maybe she's right that my anger toward Callum isn't about her and has more to do with how I view myself.
Doesn't matter. Callum is a lyingcacan. Yes, I've learned some Gaelic after years of friendship with a Scot. Am I jealous that he got the girl? No, of course not. I am not upset because, for the first time, I haven't gotten what I wanted—who I wanted. That's rubbish.
I glance at the two tables set up in front of us. "Electrodes and a crystal ball? What do mean to do, rearrange our brains and then tell us our fortunes?"
"The crystal ball is strictly decorative," Damian Petrescu says. "Kirsty and I have something else in mind."
"Yes, whatever. Would you lot get on with your barmy plan?"
Luke Turner waves at his long table. "Have a seat at the other end, and we'll get started."
Callum and I take the chairs at the far end. The way these lunatics have arranged things, we're forced to face each other. I have a mind to move my chair, but I suspect Logan or one of his clan will rearrange me against my will.
Luke rises to approach us and attach electrodes to our fingers. "You guys are all set."
"For what?" I demand.
He chuckles. "You'll see."
Luke returns to his end of the table and brings out his laptop computer. He taps the key and moves his fingers over the touch pad, seeming engrossed by his task. Finally, he lifts his head. "Ready to go. I'll measure your skin conductance response while you two talk through your issues."
"Talk? That's your amazing plan?"
"I'm a psychophysicist. That means I'm qualified to assess your mental state and measure the physics of your reactions."
"Wonderful."
"Time to start talking. Hugh, why don't you go first? Tell Callum why you're mad at him."
I snort. "Why? He knows the answer."
Callum folds his arms over his chest. "Aye, I know. You are an arroganttolla-thonwho's pouting because, for once, you lost."
"You cheated. Seducing Kate behind my back was—"
"Falbh dàirich fheinbecause nobody else will."
Yes, he just told me to go fuck myself. Lovely.
I fold my arms, mirroring his pose, though I didn't do that on purpose. "You knew I liked Kate, and you swore you had no interest in her. 'She's a harpy,' you said. 'Save me, Hugh.' I rushed to Scotland to helpyou."
"When did I beg you to save me?" He jabs a finger in my direction. "Never, that's when. Yer off yer head, yebod ceann. The only reason you're angry is because Kate wants me."
The woman herself stomps over to our table, halting at the end. She plants her hands on the surface. "Does either of you care what I think? Or would you rather measure your dicks?"
"It's his fault," Callum says while glaring at me. "Hugh cannae stand that a woman chose me over him."
