“Jesus Kara.”
“We’ve not spoken about that, or the fact that we slept together this morning, or the other messy stuff. So now we have another elephant in the room.” I groan and rest my head inmy hands, shaking them. “I honestly thought Lucy was dead, Andrews.” I rest my chin in my hands, my eyes meet his blue ones, full of concern and care. “But the more I’m around him, the more I’m with him. I remember. I just, I don’t know.” I puff out a breath and sit back. “Maybe Lucy is still very much a part of me, like Owen King is a part of him. We are very much two broken souls thrust back into each other’s lives.”
“Do you ever think these things can sometimes happen for a reason?”
“You mean fate?” He nods, and I roll my eyes. “C’mon, Andrews, in our line of work? And you start spouting bullshit about fate? Are you going senile on me, old man?” He grins, and a small smile tugs at my lips.
“Of all the agencies, of all the people, he comes to ours.”
“He was told to, and you put me with him. That isn’t fate. That’s strategy.”
“This is your last assignment, little one. Maybe this is all happening for a reason. Maybe, just maybe, he is the happy ever after you’ve been searching for all these years?”
I furrow my brow, head moving from side to side. Because of all the people, I couldn’t. Not Owen.
But even as I shake my head, I turn to look at the man who once kept the monsters away. I ask myself the question,could he by my happy ever after?
24
Lucy - Age 16
It’s4:00p.m.onFriday. Gemma talked me into joining her for this ridiculous initiation.
I’m supporting her. That’s what best friends do, right?
Truth be told though, I’m intrigued.
Owen will be going to the party, and apart from the brief encounters at school, I never see him with his friends. I’ve never seen him at a party, and I want to. I want a glimpse of the carefree version of him that he portrays at school.
Not the troubled protector he has to be at home.
His mask has become so good, I question who the real him is now. Sometimes I wonder whether he’s even fooled himself. Just like I trick myself.
“Ladies. Thank you for joining us,” Harry stands with five of his minions.
The two directly next to him are Carl or Steven, or something. They flank him on either side, their arms crossed over their chests. They’re not un-attractive, but there is something smarmy about them. Harry, on the other hand, is hot.
Tall, muscular, solid.
Dirty blonde hair and dark brown eyes. I know that if you stand close to him, you can see his slightly crooked nose. Along with the scar that runs faintly along his cheekbone, another on his eyebrow. The scars that Owen gave him. The crooked nose Owen gave him.
Girls stand next to us, all whispering and shifting nervously on the spot. Some are in their PE kits having just finished netball training, others still in their school uniform.
All of us young, naïve, and desperate to go to the party.
“I wonder what the task is going to be,” one of them whispers.
“I heard they have some sort of obstacle course,” another replies.
“You’ve been hand selected by my boys and I to join us at my party tonight. If you successfully complete your task, you will be the first ever year elevens to come,” Harry says, walking up and down the shower room, his voice echoing off the tiled walls. “In a minute, each one of us will select one of you. From there, you will go with your partner to a cubicle.”
“This doesn’t sound at all dodgy,” I whisper to Gemma, who is staring at Carl, her eyes full of admiration. Oh shit, I forgot she fancies the pants off him. I bet she’s silently hoping that he chooses her.
“Then what?” one of the other girls asks, as two of them shake their heads and turn to leave.
“If you walk out the door, you can say goodbye to your reputation,” Steven says, and the boys all laugh. It’s enough to make them slow their steps.
“You will be blindfolded.” One of the minions turns around and grabs a black shoe box off the side and passes it to Harry.
