Page 65 of Boneyard HEA

I’m so so sorry Juniper. I was afraid to say this in a straight text or email. I knew you’d figure it out. You are and always will be my bestest ever friend. I’ll see you in the afterlife with wings on, black or white, hey? Or red just to be different.

That’s so her. The idiot. Making fun of whatever comes after death. We always thought it was a void, hopefully one with clowns and rollercoasters.

I close my eyes, smile weakly, and stop reading, because I didn’t figure this out. I bump my head into Mr. Loxland’s shoulder.

“Fiyun?” Tomás says. “Does that make sense?”

I peek and read the rest. A final note.

Might mean nothing but I remembered this from THAT DAY – someone called someone Fiyun. I don’t know the name but if you see a man called that, run.

Goodbye juniper, live long and prosper, girl. Teardrops, remember that?

Teardrops is a song we loved on Eurovision, way back when. Only Teardrops by Emmelie Forest. Good times. She doesn’t say why she suicided, and tears are indeed running down my face. I rake in a shuddery breath.

“Are you okay, little psycho?” Mr. Loxland kisses my forehead.

I pat his shoulder and sniffle, then succumb to temptation and lean into him. “I’m okay. Just memories.”

“We’re here for hugs, remember that. As well as sex.”

“You sure about that?”

He chuckles.

“Do we know of a Fionn?” Tomás asks.

“I don’t, and there’s no one of that name on our fraternity membership list, Tomás.”

“Huh. Thought so.”

“Also, that travel info on all the members and Nathan will take at least a week to sort out, according to the hacker I have doing it. So that’s it. We will sleep on this and decide tomorrow…all three of us.”

I lift my head off his shoulder. I get voting rights on this. It’s a sign of how this relationship will work out. I like it. Being dominated is fun, but sometimes I need a vote.

Or a shoulder to cry on.

I wipe away tears and go to shower before we have dinner downstairs.

It’s when we return, me in the little black-and-gold dress from the shop, them in casual pants and shirts for this semi-tropical weather, that we find an envelope on the bed, with a note inside it.

It’s me. S. They let me in to drop this on the bed. No one else saw it. I have important information. You may be in danger tomorrow. I’m told you know Little Corella Beach? Meet you there at 11PM. If you’re not there, I cannot be sure I can say anything tomorrow.

Little Corella Beach is where we took Lucy, where they chased and ran me down.

“Oh, fuck.” Tomás drops onto the bed, holds his head. “Is this a trap? I hate late-night meetings.”

“I don’t think so?” I look to them both for answers. “I kinda liked Shawn, but I’ve no idea, really.”

“We have no weapons. I’m no John Wick, anyway. Do you know him at all?”

Tomás shrugs. “Not really.”

“But he has said something that tees up with what we are angling toward. That there may be something odd and dangerous going on. We need to know more. We go? Yes or no?”

After a few seconds, both I and Tomás nod. “We go,” he says.

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