Ollie Mylor was thinking, which was dangerous.
He wasn't particularly known for strategic brilliance under pressure, but right now, Ollie was desperate.
Because he had a plan.
A crazy yet currently inexplicable plan.
He wasn't planning to abandon the man next to him—far from it. But he did need to leave, just for a little while. He just couldn't explain how or why. Not without sounding completely insane.
Or blowing the lid off a very, very big secret.
And the guy already looked like he had enough problems.
Ollie glanced up at him—the tall, ridiculously well-dressed man whose features were now obscured by a flickering distortion field, the kind used by people who definitely weren't average citizens. Before the tech kicked in, Ollie had caught a brief glimpse of his face.
Not everything, with his limited point of view. But that alone was enough to tell.
The man was chiseled. Expensive.
