Page 141 of Enigma: The Complete Collection
I huff in disbelief. Other than when Hugo was faking being my friend, I never saw him out of a suit. Nothing against this man, but he doesn’t seem the type to wear a suit. Lumberjack, yes. Head of security for the most fascinating man I’ve ever met—unlikely!
Sensing my silent grilling, his brow arches high into his hairline. “Hey, don’t judge a book by its cover, remember?”
As he assures me he’s worthy of my time, I examine the space, seeking any exits that won't require me to walk past the man claiming to be the head of Isaac’s security. My heart beats wildly. Because soot and dust cover the windows, I can’t make out anything but shadows milling in the moonlit night. For all I know, I could be walking straight into a trap by leaving, but I don’t have much choice.
Anxiety plays havoc with my vocal cords when I say, “I'm carrying a weapon. If you attempt to stop me from leaving, I'll shoot you.”
The bearded man referring to himself as Hunter smiles while standing. Although I’m warning him to stay away, he takes a step closer to me. Meaning I have no choice. I must protect myself.
In less than a heartbeat, I snag my satchel off the counter, shove my palm against the bridge of his nose, then bolt for the exit door as quickly as my quivering legs will take me. His groans sound through my ears as I break through the barn-style wooden door. The coolness of the night gives calming relief to my overheated flushed cheeks, but nothing will ease the panic curling around my throat.
As my eyes dart up and down the deserted street, endeavoring to find a secure location to hide, I’m grabbed from behind. Their hold is so powerful, my feet lift from the ground at the same time my satchel skids across the concrete path. When my frightened screams are muffled by a hand, I kick out my legs wildly, ensuring the heels on my boots connect with my attacker’s shins. I dig my French-tipped nails into his exposed arms before biting at his hand, my furious battle only simmering when the rugged voice of Hugo whispers into my ear. “It’s me, Izzy. It’s okay. Don’t scream.”
My lungs hunt for air when he removes his hand from my mouth, but their campaign is cut short when my eyes lock in on the bearded stranger briskly pacing toward us. Blood is dribbling from his right nostril, and his eyes are narrowed into tiny slits.
Sensing my panic, Hugo pivots around while discreetly removing his gun from the back of his jeans. The worry straining his face eases when he spots the bearded stranger. He returns his gun to the waist of his jeans before greeting him with a pat on his back. “Hey, Hunter, what happened to your nose?”
Hunter’s heavily shadowed eyes shift to me. Even though he’s angry, his dark eyes still have a sparkle of amusement in them. “I had the pleasure of meeting Izzy without a formal introduction.”
Cringing, I mumble, “Sorry.”
Hugo muffles his chuckle with a cough when Hunter glares at him.
Certain he has the situation under control, Hunter snatches my satchel off the concrete sidewalk and rummages through it.
“Hey!”
Hunter’s eyes snap to mine, his vehement gaze cutting through me like a knife. I’m tempted to hit him for a second time when he yanks my sleek black iPhone out of my bag before smashing it onto the ground. It shatters on impact, but that’s not good enough for Hunter. He has to get his boot in on the action as well. He stomps on it three times, rendering it as useless as he’ll be once I rearrange his nose for the second time.
Hugo seizes my elbow, halting my angry strides. It’s for the best. If he hadn’t stopped me, I would have never witnessed Hunter removing a small flat device from my phone. It looks very much like a bug. After assessing it under a street light, he drops the offending product into a half-empty glass of beer discarded on a table outside the pub.
“How did you know she had a listening device in her phone?”
Hunter shifts on his feet to face Hugo. “The scanner in my pocket was picking up a signal.”
So that’s why he was obsessed with checking his phone.
“It looks similar to the one I removed from Izzy’s phone yesterday morning.”
My eyes snap to Hugo. “You what?”
He coughs to clear his throat. “You had a bug in your cell. We don’t know how long it’s been there, but we believe it may have been how the FBI discovered Isaac’s private residence.”
“We?” Nothing can iron out the hope in my tone.
Air whizzes out Hugo’s nose. “Yes,we. Isaac was the one who suggested I scan your apartment for bugs. Unfortunately, blondie didn’t distract you long enough for me to do a thorough search.”
My heart rate quickens. Does that mean Isaac believes I didn’t divulge any of his private life to the FBI? I wonder why his opinion on the matter altered so quickly?
My deliberations stop when Hunter digs his fingers into the glass of beer to remove the bug. He places it into a plastic bag he pulled out of his jeans pocket. Once he has the device secured in the top pocket of his plaid shirt, he moves to stand in front of me. “Who’s been in your apartment since yesterday morning?”
Before my brain can sort through any facts, Hugo answers on my behalf. “Only one person.” His tone is low and dangerous. “Blondie.”
He strides down the street, his steps quick and precise. After snatching my satchel out of Hunter’s grasp, I take off after him. “Hugo, wait!”
Because his strides are so long, I have to sprint to catch up with him. I call his name several times, but he ignores every request I make for him to calm down. My eyes dart back to Hunter to seek his assistance. He's following us but doesn’t offer up any support.
I gasp when Hugo draws his gun from the back of his jeans before kicking open Brandon’s hotel room door. As he enters the room, he aims his gun to Brandon, who is sitting on a hideous green floral bedspread, talking on his cell phone.
