Page 59

Flynn

I slumped further into the spare office chair Felix had dragged out for me. The hum of multiple computer fans created a white noise that made my eyelids heavy. If my right hand wasn’t still in agony from the burning incident, I could have fallen asleep.

Felix’s workspace was impossibly tidy—every cable zip-tied and labelled, monitors positioned at perfect right angles. The rest of the basement might be chaos, but Felix’s domain was a temple to organisation.

The door banged open, making me jump. Felix stormed in, clutching a metal lunchbox decorated with stickers.

“He’s done it again .”

“What?”

“Rory’s eaten half my kimbap, the absolute prick. I spent hours making them last night. They were all… They were perfect.”

He thrust the box at me. Inside lay neat rolls of rice and vegetables wrapped in seaweed, arranged in precise rows, though several spaces were conspicuously empty.

“Here, you might as well have some. Then I’m building a wall of oat milk cartons in the fridge to hide it.”

I picked up a piece with my good hand. “Sounds like a productive afternoon.”

Felix dropped into his chair with a huff, pausing to adjust his keyboard, even though it seemed perfectly aligned to me.

His fingers hovered over the keys, tapped once, then pulled back.

He shook his head slightly and started again, this time seeming satisfied with whatever internal criteria had been met .

“Do you ever get jealous?” I asked, spinning the chair slightly. “Having to stay here while they go out and have fun?”

Felix’s fingers paused over the keyboard. He turned to me, eyebrows shooting up behind his messy fringe.

“Have… fun ? You mean get stabbed, shot at, and covered in various bodily fluids while fighting the forces of evil?”

“Well, when you put it that way…”

“Trust me.” He pushed his giant headphones back from one ear.

“I’ve seen the state they come back in. Once, Rory returned with half his intestines hanging out.

And before that, Kit had to get thirty-seven stitches.

And Seb…” He shuddered. “The things I’ve had to watch him heal from?

No thanks. I’ll stay here with my nice clean keyboards and zero percent chance of dismemberment. ”

“So you don’t feel left out?”

“Left out of what? Getting thrown through windows? Having bits of you catch fire?” He gestured at his screens. “I see everything anyway. Multiple angles, usually in HD. Sometimes I even add dramatic background music.”

I snorted so hard I choked on my own spit.

Felix continued tapping away, and I stood up to stretch. Something snagged my attention—a wad of paper fresh from Felix’s printer that looked like… someone’s social media feed?

My uninjured hand snatched it up. The top photo was a distinguished-looking man in his late fifties, grey peppered through his dark hair.

He was crouched in a park, attempting to wrestle a miniature dachshund into a tweed jacket while wearing an expression of utmost academic seriousness.

The caption read: Can tweed protect against squirrel attacks?

Early results inconclusive. Poor Aristotle remains traumatised.

“Felix, what on earth is—”

There was a name above the photo: James Stott.

“Hmm?” Felix spun around. “Oh. That. Put that back, please. I need to give it to Seb later. He makes me print stuff because he just can’t with email attachments.” He rolled his eyes, turning back to his screen .

“But… what is it?” I whispered.

Felix threw me a glance. “It’s quite sad, actually.

It’s his ex-boyfriend from like, decades ago.

Seb likes to know how he’s doing. I offered to make him his own profile, but he didn’t want one.

James Stott is an Oxford professor, so I made a fake account looking like someone in academia, and he accepted me straight away. ”

“An… Oxford professor? You’re joking!”

“Nope.”

“So this is his type?” I waved the paper at Felix like it had personally offended me, which only served to deepen the poor guy’s confusion. I was surprised Rory or Priya hadn’t told him about our… whatever it was.

I stared at the photo, my stomach churning more violently than a stormy sea.

Of course Seb’s ex was an Oxford professor.

Of course he had a cute dog, was distinguished and successful and funny, and probably knew which wine to order at fancy restaurants.

And here I was, a failed boating tour guide who’d run away from a tourist village with nothing but a backpack and mounting guilt.

The gap between who I was and who James was yawned wider than the Atlantic.

What could Seb possibly see in someone like me when this was his type?

“Umm… I guess so?”

“When did Seb ask you for this?”

Felix stared at me. Some level of understanding was starting to dawn on his expression.

“Felix! When?”

“Umm… it’s sort of a rolling monthly thing…” Felix bit into his lip, as if he knew he should stop talking.

His eyes kept darting to the paper in my hand, his fingers twitching against his keyboard. When I finally set it back in the printer tray, he leaned over and carefully adjusted its position, aligning it precisely with the edges.

“But really, monthly ?! Well he’s not over him, then, is he?” I wanted to snatch the paper back and crumple it with my fist. I desperately tried to ignore how my heart was pounding. Twenty years. Twenty years, and Seb still needed monthly updates.

With a groan, Felix jumped up from his chair, his headphones clattering to the desk. “No, no. I didn’t mean to—” He tore his hands through his hair. “Look, I don’t even know if Seb actually even looks at the printouts I give him.”

I crossed my arms. “Right.”

“And anyway, James is… Well, he’s boring.

Really boring. All his posts are about his kids passing their driving tests, medieval literature, or his dog’s anxiety issues.

” Felix moved closer, lowering his voice.

“He’s married to some historian. They collect antique maps together.

” He made a face. “Trust me, it’s as thrilling as it sounds. ”

“But Seb still wants to know about him.”

“It’s… complicated, though, don’t you think? When you live as long as Seb has, I think you need to know the people you cared about are okay. That they’re happy. Even if you’re not part of their lives anymore.”

Felix earned a glare for his logical wisdom. The idea of watching someone you loved grow old without you, knowing you’d stay frozen in time while they moved forward—it must be torture.

Felix leaned back against his desk, fiddling with a USB stick. “You know, Seb has been acting strange of late.” His tone held a teasing lilt.

“Oh yeah?”

“He keeps smiling way more. It’s weird.” He shuddered dramatically. “The other day, I caught him humming. Humming . I’ve been here over a year, and I’ve never heard him make any noise that wasn’t a sigh or a threat.”

A warmth spread through me, pushing back some of the cold doubt. “Thanks, Felix.”

My phone vibrated. Katie’s name lit up the screen, and I sighed, already exhausted.

“Hello?”

“So, don’t be mad, but I’m outside your bakery. The one where you work. ”

“ What ?!” Through the phone, I heard the unmistakable rush of London traffic. She wasn’t lying. “Why would you—”

“After that cryptic phone call? Of course I had to come. I told Connor to book us on the first flight.”

My stomach plummeted. “ Connor’s here?”

“The girl at Rising Dough said you were off work sick?”

“Emma?”

“Yeah. Though she doesn’t believe you. She thinks there’s something going on with you and this dangerous stalker? Apparently, the other day, she left you alone with him in the bakery and then ten minutes later the building got broken into?”

“That happened after we left,” I said, squeezing my eyes tightly together as if I could magic Katie back to Ireland.

“She said she thinks he could be in a gang.” Her voice sharpened. “That he won’t leave you alone. That he could be threatening you?”

“Urgg!” Goddamn Emma and her caring personality!

Next to me, Felix seemed to be vibrating with suppressed laughter and I kicked his leg. Hard.

“Message me your address,” Katie demanded.

I pressed my hand against my forehead. “I’m… not at my London flat. I’m at… a hotel.”

“A hotel?” Her voice dropped to a hiss. “Have you gone into hiding?”

“No! It’s sort of… his hotel. But he’s not a dangerous stalker, Katie. Honest.”

“So there is someone!” She sighed, that familiar big-sister sigh that made me feel about twelve years old. “Look, Flynn, I know the attention of this man probably feels exciting—”

“Stop talking. Now.”

“Flynn, you’ve got two choices. Text me your address, or I’m calling the police. I mean it. You’re scaring me.”

I glanced at Felix. Could I give her the name of the hotel? Not without talking to Seb …

“I’ll come meet you. Just let me sort some stuff out. It might take a few hours.”

She made a noise of exasperation. “I’ll give you thirty minutes to give me a time and place.”

I ended the call with Katie. The phone nearly slipped from my grip as I found Seb’s contact, heart pounding.

Katie was here, in London. With Connor .

Seb answered almost instantly. “Flynn? What’s wrong?”

The concern in his voice made my chest tighten. “I’m so sorry, but Katie has flown to London. She’s going to call the police unless I come see her.”

“That’s… not ideal.” There was a long pause, followed by a sigh. “Okay.”

“Can I go?”

“Not alone, obviously.”

I glanced at Felix, watching me with wide eyes. “With… Felix?” The memory of being dragged into that van by deadwalkers flashed through my mind. Maybe Felix was about to get the adventure he never wanted.

“With me . I’ll be back in an hour. Tell her to meet you at Fat Cat’s at 3:00 p.m.”

“One more thing…” I bit down on my lip, hard enough to hurt. “Connor’s with her. You know… her husband…”

A string of curses crackled through the phone. “I’ll be there as soon as possible.” He hung up.

With one hand, I typed: