“And I’m right behind them,” Mac said, glaring at the stranger and gripping Allister’s shoulder.
“He can press charges,” Allister said stubbornly.
Mac’s face turned red. He’d obviously had enough of this nonsense. “Let’s all travel together. For once think of Ellie.”
Allister snarled. “When don’t I think of Ellie?”
“The trip is important to her, hon.” Markie played devil’s advocate. “Everyone is here now and most of ’em are already on the plane. You can stay behind, and chances are this dude will press charges. You’ll go to jail. Make bail. And maybe tomorrow or the next day you can join us.” Deciding to add a touch of theatrics, he quickly added, “That is if you’re even permitted to leave the state. Assault charges are nothing to balk about.”
“Ellie’s not getting off that plane. You know how stubborn she is,” Mac pointed out. “And chances are, this fella can have you hauled out of here and he’ll still board without so much as delaying the flight.”
“He’s right, baby boy,” Markie said, nodding rapidly in agreement.
Allister snarled. “I swear, if he so much as lays a hand on her, I’ll—”
“You’ll let us handle it,” Mac told him in a firm voice. “Now come on, bro. Let’s start this vacation. It’s party time.”
The stranger saluted Allister with one finger, a mocking and quite rude gesture. “No worries, Mr. McCall. It was an accident.”
As Allister walked ahead of them, Mac and Markie looked back at Mr. Jones. He had a peculiar blank look on his face. The only way to describe the man then was downright suspicious. All play had immediately left his expression. The charade was over.
It was then when Markie realized—the man possessed two faces and many plans. Markie had a terrible feeling they’d soon find out all about them.
Chapter Two
They quickly gained altitude and the pilot’s voice filled the aircraft. “Looks like it’s about sixty-eight degrees on the ground in Atlanta. We should be pulling up to our gate in about seventy minutes. Thank you for flying with us today. Sit back and enjoy your flight.”
It would be a cold day in hell before Allister remained in his seat. He’d warned Mr. Seth Jones before he ever made a scene at the gate.
He’d told him plain and simple. Ellie had her hands full. Son of a bitch had actually told Allister she could easily handle one more.
Fuck that. He shifted in his seat, growing more impatient by the moment.
“We were over here making bets,” Curt told him, leaning in the center aisle but keeping his hand on Heather’s knee. “Lavatory is empty, ya know.”
Allister snarled. “And Draegan is seated right next to it.”
“You guys act like you’ve never been laid before,” Heather said, shaking her head.
If Heather hadn’t been Bradley’s little sister, he might have made some off-color remark. He hadn’t fucked Ellie in the last two days which was part of the problem.
His testosterone was all out of whack.
“At least wait until we’re on the 747,” Gabe said, pulling down the shade as soon as a bright ray of sunlight shot across their row.
Allister turned sideways. “I seem to remember a man holding up an entire investigation because he couldn’t wait an hour to fuck his woman. Sound familiar?”
Gabe leaned forward and shot Heather a wink. “Sure does.” He settled in again, clasped his hands over his stomach and closed his eyes. “Do me a favor and hurry. I might need to show Heather the facilities when you’re done.”
“I may be a while,” Allister said smugly, leaving his assigned seat.
Seconds later, he stood next to Ellie’s row. He motioned for her with a simple crook of a finger.
“Mr. McCall.”
“Mr. Jones.” Allister didn’t look at the sorry son of a bitch.
Ellie stared up at him as if she were ready to give him an earful. Then, she flipped her seatbelt out of the way and quickly rose. “Excuse me.”