Page 217 of Johnny

please. I understand you don’t care much for ceremony, but I will have to insist this one last time.”

She nods her head at the two chairs pushed up to the table directly in front of Megan and I.

“Come on,” I whisper to Megan. Not that whispering matters. The drones are still hovering around

us and I’m pretty sure they’ve got the best long-range microphones attached to their underbellies. She

resists a little. Planting her feet in the sand. But I tug her forward and she relents.

We thought we had this whole encounter planned out. She would spew threats, make demands,

trade places with her father. Then try and make me leave her here so I could take him to safety and…

find a cure for what they’ve done.

But I’m starting to get the feeling we’re not here because of some diabolical plan of her father’s. In fact, right now, I have no idea at all why we’re here. Except this woman—who still looks so very,

very familiar—wants to discuss my promotion.

We take our seats and the whole time this woman’s gaze is directed only at me.

Like she has no concern about Megan at all.

“Well,” I say. “We’re sitting. You wanna fill us in on what’s happening?”

“First, I would like to apologize for the dramatic nature of our… invitation last night. We needed to

make sure you showed up and so such drama was warranted. But I assure you, your family and friends

are fine. And will remain fine. If you choose the right path here today.”

“You tortured my father!” Megan spits. “He’s not fine.”

The woman glares at her. “He’s still alive isn’t he?”

I squeeze Megan’s hand. Signaling her to be quiet and listen before things get worse.

The woman sucks in a deep breath and lets it out very slowly. Nearly silent. And then she snaps

her fingers and says, “Samuel. The folio, please.”

Samuel appears, once again holding a tray. But this time there’s a black folder on it. Wrapped up in

a pretty satin ribbon. He places the folio in front of the woman and backs off.

She’s still looking at me. “It hasn’t been easy, has it?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Your job. Banking. It’s… difficult. Your father had a hard time too. I hear he went insane in the

end.”

I’m suddenly hot with anger. I want to scream at this bitch. I want to say, Yeah. He went insane

doing the bidding of this crazy cult.

But I don’t. Because I was the one who killed him. Not them.