"What the hell are you doing in Scotland?" Jack demanded, his voice on the phone hard to hear over the music in the pub.
Falling in love, Connor thought, but he didn't get a chance to answer his friend.
"I just put John on a flight in Marrakesh," Jack was saying. "He gets into Newark tomorrow afternoon, as planned."
Connor's fingers clamped down on the phone as his guts tightened in fear. Nothing had been planned. He hadn't spoken to Jack in nearly a month, when Connor had left John in Jack's care.
"Something wrong with your memory?" Jack inquired caustically.
"No problem, Jack," Connor said, even though his mind was screaming "Kane!" in rage, and every muscle in his body was clenched in dread. "I'll pick him up.
"I have to leave," Connor told Alex when he got back to their table in the main room of the pub. Her mouth opened in surprise. "You coming?" Connor demanded.
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