Page 144 of Johnny

I open my eyes and everything is on repeat. The same cabin where I woke up just a few days ago.

The same darkness outside. The same quiet dread.

Only this time my head is pounding like a motherfucker.

I unexpectedly laugh.

Swearing. Did Johnny Boston have a conversation with me about swearing?

I laugh again, only this time hidden deep inside the laugh is a small sob.

“You awake?”

I look over at the open door and find him standing in it. His face is backlit by the lights from the

hallway so he’s nothing more than a shadow.

“How do you feel?”

I close my eyes and turn over on my stomach. Burying my face in the pillow.

The soft sound of bare feet on the floor let me know he’s coming towards me.

I turn over again. Showing him my back.

“I think you fainted out on the beach. Probably heat stroke? The tactical gear was pretty heavy. So

they started taking your clothes off—”

“Fuck you,” I whisper.

He sighs. “They took your clothes off and you freaked out. So they gave you a sedative.”

I close my eyes and say nothing.

“I had them bring you back to my yacht. We’re not done yet.”

“Oh, we’re done,” I say. “We’re absolutely fucking done.”

“Megan, I need you to help me understand—”

I turn over, fuming. Practically on fire with rage. “Help you understand? I need to understand! Me!

You… you are some kind of psycho-killer! Did any of them make it out alive?”

“One,” he says. “The teenager.”

“Oh, my God. You killed them, didn’t you? You killed that entire lab!” I sit up in bed and point my

finger at his face. He’s very close to me now. Too close to me. “They were just doing their jobs!”

He grabs my wrist and holds it. “So was I.”

“Really? You’re what? A scientist exterminator now?”

“Do you have any fucking idea—”

But that’s as far as I let him get. I scramble to my knees on the bed, wobbly and lightheaded still,