James
“Bradley Connors?” I said as I recognized the man standing in front of me.
“Yes,” he sighed and lowered his hands to his shoulders, keeping them open and in sight. “I came to talk to Hilton about Andrew Riley, as I’m sure you’re aware of what happened earlier. But I swear, when I got here, I found him just like that. Then I heard you guys coming up lthe elevator, so I hid.”
“Why were you coming to see Hilton?” I asked.
“Because he just f****d me over! I donated my genes to him so he could make his serum and then he gets this crazy hare-brained scheme to inject Riley with it so we can shift together at the trial,” he said. “He wanted to show what he could do with donated genetics.”
“You’re both f*****g idiots,” one of the agents snarled. “What did you thi
