Details

Chapter 11: Operation: Save a Hoe

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Welcome to the (extra) eleventh chapter of 'Details'.

This is not really a continuation of the story, but more a flashback. Apparently some of you wanted to know about the skirt incident, so I figured I'd include it in Details.

We're working with challenges in the group now, and since I was out of the game for the past few weeks (life around here came to a stop when everyone seemed to come down with the flu, including me), I missed the deadline for the first challenge.

To make up for it, I decided to incorporate all nine of the new challenge words/concepts, instead of just the four.

If you know what they are, feel free to call them out. Or guess ;) They fit perfectly with what I'd planned for this one shot, so I hope it doesn't feel forced.

Thanks for your patience!

And thanks to BLTS2004 again for correcting all my mistakes! :)

Hugs,

0Restart

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Chapter 11: Operation: Save a Hoe

Owen's P.O.V.

Left after the second Starbucks, then right after the USPS office; it should be the blue house on our right-hand side.

"There it is!" Mr. Taylor exclaimed, pointing with an arm through the lowered car window. There it was.

Our arrival had not gone unnoticed, and a tall, greying man stepped off the porch to greet us as I parked the car. A younger man followed him but stopped at the wooden steps, his hand over his eyes to shield them from the sun.

When Liam Styles personally asked me to help his teammate with a secretive impersonation assignment, I had to accept; I owed the man much more than favors or funds after what he'd done for me.

Even so, I was a bit uncomfortable meeting his teammate without knowing what was expected of me. Mr. Styles had been deliberately vague in his request, and while I disliked taking an assignment before knowing the particulars, I knew that I'd do it regardless of what he asked for. He wouldn't ask me to do anything I'd object to, after all. I trusted him with my life.

Mr. Taylor and Mr. Coleman, in turn, trusted me and were content to come along without questions. Mr. Styles had insisted that they'd be helpful, but had not given me any further details.

"You must be Owen Blackbourne," the gentleman said in a gruff voice after I stepped out of the car, offering me his hand. "Jeremy Hughes; this is my son, Ryan. Thank you for coming."

"We are glad to help, Mr. Hughes," I responded, shaking his hand. I introduced Mr. Taylor and Mr. Coleman, who were quick to ask the Hughes to call them by their given names.

We were shown to the living room without further delay, and I couldn't help but notice the tension in their movements. The room was welcoming and warm, and there was an open box of toys in the corner. Happiness and laughter were apparent in all the pictures on the walls, leading me to believe that the inhabitants of this house were not usually so serious.

Even my brothers kept silent as we took our seats, waiting for our hosts to explain the situation. The Mr. Ryan Hughes remained standing, crossed his arms, lowered them again, then started pacing the room.