The final book in the trilogy of YN x Scarlett Johansson books.
The family are finally starting to heal following the apparent death of Scarlett's wife, Y/N. But is all as it seems? Does the mess get any less tangled?
Kennedy: Y/N, you're having a nightmare, wake up dude!
I wake up sweating, the same as every night. The same nightmare playing over and over, the night I said goodbye.
Me: Fuck, sorry man.
She hands me a bottle of water and leans back against the wall the bed's pushed against.
Kennedy: Same thing? Me: Yeah, I think seeing her again just triggered it worse. D'you think I should've just left her? Kennedy: It probably would've done her good to not involve her and let her go on believing you're dead, but what would you be sacrificing to do it? Me: Yeah true, that's kinda selfish though. Kennedy: Ever the selfless twin, no surprises there. Me: Shut up, moron. Kennedy: For what it's worth, I think you did the right thing. Me: Thanks, Ken. So what would be the deal about getting her here? I'm just a bit worried that she's only with Ollie, what if they find out she's involved too? Kennedy: We've had a team surrounding the house since she got here, Y/N. Not even she's noticed that, and she's very vigilant apparently. Me: She sees everything before it happens, it's actually weird. Kennedy: I don't think it's a good idea having you two in the same place at the same time. I know we have this place crawling with SS and undercover agents, but it's too risky to move her, especially now we're starting to uncover some rats. Me: You found something. Kennedy: Not much, actually it's barely a lead, but it seems them believing you're dead made them relax a little. We found a way into one of the foot soldier's call list. It does show much, but Ollie's following up with Max. Me: Max? Kennedy: Some dude at the Security Service. The kid's a small time dealer in LA, a punk really, but it could be something. Me: Who? Kennedy: You know him already. Me: Ryan? My old dealer? Ryan's a dumb fuck, there's no way he'd even know how to use a smart phone, never mind work with one of the biggest criminal cells in America. Kennedy: Well, you'll have an update when I do. You gonna be okay? Just it's 5am and I have a meeting in 5 minutes. Me: Who the fuck has meetings before at least 9? Kennedy: That would be me. You getting up or sleeping? Me: Gonna hit the gym, don't think I can sleep anymore. Thanks, for the water. Kennedy: You got it. I'll see if I can get her here, no promises. Me: Cheers.
I head out of bed and wander to the bathroom, washing my face and brushing my teeth, then walk down to the gym. If anything, the safe house is the fanciest place I've ever stayed in, including my own house. It's situated on a bend in the lake, nothing surrounds it, and the houses that are nearby, all NSA owned.
After sweating it out for when seems like hours on the treadmill, I head to the pool, swimming laps over and over until I basically can't breathe.
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Same process every morning.
???: Don't die again, will you?
I dip my head back in the water to slick my hair back, not bothering to look back at the woman stood behind me, definitely with her arms folded, and a judgemental look in her eyes. I can feel it burning in the back of my head.
