Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 127712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 639(@200wpm)___ 511(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 639(@200wpm)___ 511(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
“Yes. I would like to make someone dead.”
I pull out my phone and start texting Mercer. “Are you sure?” I don’t even look up when he answers.
“I’m sure.”
I wait for Mercer’s response. Then I open Olsen’s file, pull out his contract, make a few amendments, initial them to make it feel legit, in Olsen’s eyes, anyway, then slide my pen and the contract across the table at him. “OK. Sign here.”
And that’s how we started.
That’s how it all started.
Olsen with a death wish for his former partner in crime, and Mercer and I making it happen.
Years later I was standing in Olsen’s cottage living room, watching Nova Ryan’s surprised expression, and thinking about how he was just kissing me thirty seconds ago and she had her hand down my pants this morning.
It’s a new experience to wake up with Nova in her own bed. It’s something we haven’t done since she left the Institute. Normally I stay in the guest room when I’m here. And while most of last night still has the feeling of a dream, this one simple fact—being in her bed—is a clear indication that we are at a fresh start and new beginning.
She’s still asleep when I throw the covers aside and get up. The sun is just barely rising. This is my typical waking hour, but Nova likes her sleep. So I take a shower, change into a clean pair of jeans and a t-shirt, then go out to the kitchen to make some coffee.
I am not snooping when I find her journal. It’s just lying there on the kitchen counter. The cover is made of leather and it’s held closed by several long, thin leather straps. Its thick ragged-edged papers are spilling out of it. Like she keeps mementos in there.
I side-eye it the entire time I get a mug and make a single-serving cup of coffee.
I’m surprised that she keeps a journal. Because Mercer keeps one too, and Nova Ryan knows this.
But I don’t have room in my head for Mercer right now, so I leave the kitchen and step into the back garden, barefoot.
This is a private garden just for her and Veda. No customers are allowed back this way. Still, it’s overflowing with lavender and the scent—it’s almost overpowering. But there are other flowers too. Tall, giant, fluffy-headed sunflowers, lots of pink ones, and a smattering of orange and blue.
Flowers.
I can’t say I was surprised that Nova left science when she left the Institute, but I would’ve never imagined her as a flower farmer. I step through a little wooden gate and out into an expansive green space. My toes sink into the lush, green grass as I take in the view. This is all private too and there is a four-rail fence with wire attached to the inside to keep people and small wild animals out, but still allow full appreciation of what she has built here in just a few short years.
The beauty of the Midnight Ark is breathtaking. And I give myself permission to enjoy it as I sip my coffee.
Of course, I’m not a stranger to beautiful. Mercer and I still live on the island. He still works on the project, though I have since retired from the whole mess. Now I just… I don’t know. Exist in some weird in-between stage of life where I want things—people—and can’t have them yet. So I spend my time planning, and plotting, and dreaming of the day when it might actually happen.
I know what Olsen thinks. He thinks I’m Mercer’s lackey. I’m his minion, or whatever. That I am a follower.
But that’s not it at all. I’m just loyal.
And Mercer’s loyal to me too.
That’s why we’re still together. I mean, if I gave him up who would take his place?
Not Olsen, that’s for sure. I like him, but love him? Die for him? Fuck that. I would not die for Olsen and he wouldn’t die for me either.
But Mercer? I don’t care how pissed off we were with each other, if someone threatened me, he would have my back. And I would have his.
So why are you here, Locke?
Why, indeed.
It’s not because I’m going to leave Mercer for Nova. I’m not. It’s never going to happen. But I hope, I guess. That she will come back. That she will listen to him. That she will forgive him.
And I can see that happening. I really can. Nova is a practical person. She’s not overly emotional. And she’s not hateful. She’s just not. It’s as simple as that. She would forgive Mercer if he said the right things. If he would just give her the answers she is looking for.
But he won’t. And even though I could answer all her questions to her complete satisfaction, I already know that in the end, she would not be satisfied.