"Any news about Captain Asshole?" Fiona tossed pizza crust on her plate and leaned back in her seat at the dining room table.
Tristan grunted. "He left the hotel room late last night, but no one's seen him come back. It's possible he slipped past my watchdog. I might have his room searched despite the Do Not Disturb sign. We'll see."
Brady rolled his head to stretch his neck, exhausted from the workout routine. He jogged two miles three times a week, but he wasn't accustomed to vigorous exercise. Not on this level, anyhow. They'd gone at it hard in their home gym with weights, equipment, and defensive techniques. Usually, Riley preferred swimming laps and Tristan did martial arts to keep in shape, yet they appeared just as sluggish as Brady. Stress, no doubt.
"He could be anywhere on the island." He frowned, concern and uncertainty making concrete of his muscles all over again. "What if he catches one of you off guard?"