Page 109 of The Defiant Curse

Granted, he wasn’t sure how it would go.

Did she want to see him?

Would she send him away?

Would she punch him in the face?

That was yet to be seen, but granted, he deserved each one of those outcomes for not having her back when she needed him the most.

What he also did know was he’d do anything to get her to forgive him. While she said she wasn’t angry, what he’d heard from Raphael said otherwise.

Now, he had to hope and pray she’d forgive him for making a bad choice to go behind her back when she’d clearly had it in control.

He just didn’t want her to die. It was a tightrope walk, and it was perilous as fuck because there was no net on this one.

As the jet landed and they came to a stop to disembark, thankfully, he shook the pilot’s hand.

“Sir, we have to head to England to head back to pick up some delegation heading back to DC. Do you have it from here?” the pilot asked. “We can swing back in a few hours for you if need be, but that’s the only leeway we have.”

He stopped him.

Ethan wasn’t leaving Elizabeth’s side, so he didn’t need a flight home. SHE was his home.

“That’s fine,” he admitted. “You can head out. I’ll be good.”

Clearly, that worked for them, and they asked no questions, but then again, that was for the best.

They said goodbye, and Ethan headed off of the flight. The airstrip was semi-busy, and when he headed toward the hangers, he found someone working inside.

“Hey, I’m looking for the storage area for Jackson James,” he stated.

The man took off his sunglasses.

“And ya are? Because I’ve never seen ya around here,” he admitted.

Ethan went there.

“I’m his brother. Can you point me toward them?” he asked.

The man still looked skeptical.

So, he went there.

“Do you have a phone?” he asked, because by now, Ivan was losing his shit, and he wasn’t turning his back on no matter what.

The man pulled it from his pocket and held it in his hand to show he did.

“Google me. Ethan Blackhawk.”

The man did, and when it popped up on the screen of his phone, he saw the photos. There were him and Callen side-by-side, and plenty of articles on him being his brother.

“Does that help?” he asked. “I came in on that fancy jet.”

Oh, it wasn’t Callen’s but he hoped the man didn’t know that, or care. If he called Callen, the jig was up.

“Aye, sorry, sir. You know how we have to be careful. Mr. James has some valuable things in that storage area, and he pays me to keep it safe.”

He brushed it off. He was well aware of what was in there, and how Callen liked fancy things.