The second she said the last word, her phone rang, and she realized she manifested this destiny.
The husband destiny where they lost their shit.
“Oh, fuck,” she muttered. “I put it out in the universe, and now, they know. I swear to God, they have my tits and ass LoJacked.”
Rogue actually laughed.
Yeah, that sounded about right.
Boone looked over her shoulder to see the phone so he could figure out which one was hot on her ass.
“Which one is‘the hot Native’?” he asked when he saw that was what she called this husband.
She sighed.
“It’s going to be Callen—the worrier.”
In his defense, there was likely a good reason he worried about his wife. She was, after all, out in NOLA with mercenaries, rolling around without a babysitter.
Answering the phone, she was in for a little surprise. It wasn’t just Callen.
No.
He conferenced in all of them.
Ethan.
Gene.
Chris.
Well, this threw a bucket of water on her fun. There was no doubt why they were ganging up on her. There was only one person dumb enough to poke her with the husbands.
Her bodyguard.
“Let me guess. Ivan the terrible can’t keep his piehole shut,” she stated.
The men sighed.
Yeah, she heard each one.
“Elizabeth, do I need to turn this jet around and head back?” Ethan asked, going there. “Here I was, going to have a nice little vacation with Gene, and we get a text from Ivan saying you’re without a bodyguard and inNew Orleans. I know that can’t possibly be right.”
She protested.
“Uh, one, I’m a grown ass adult, and last I looked, I was the best one atNOTgetting hurt. Chris was hurt last.”
“HEY!”he said. “I was in a car when Saint and Raphael were abducted. That was not my fault. Don’t point this at me.”
Well, she had other things then.
“Oh, well, then, how about when Ethan was shot in the…”
Her husband shut that down.
Blackhawk wasn’t playing.
“Go back to the bunker.”
