❝If there was one thing Anthony Lockwood was afraid of, it would be Carolynne Blair Lynch's pure, mere, terrifying beauty.❞
𝐃𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐝 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭? Perhaps a day that didn't go your way so now you'd...
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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐮𝐛𝐬 and cafes along the riverbank that the relic-men and woman often met and battered nightly hauls. After a couple of hours, they found Flo. She was outside an eatery in Battersea, picking at her evening breakfast of scrambled eggs and bacon in a grubby Styrofoam tray.
She glanced at them, nodded, and continued making fast work with the plastic fork. They drew as close as was comfortable, watching her shovel the yellow globules into her mouth. "Karim, Carly," she said, "Carlyle."
"Flo."
"Where's Locky?" The fork paused and pointed at Carolynne, "don't think I've ever seen one without the other. He hasn't moved on has he?"
Carolynne blinked, she didn't know what to say. It felt like he had, but he was still officially tied to her. I'm yours until you say the word. Was he just waiting for her to blow it? Cut the red string all together? She shrugged, conveying her options, "I don't know. Maybe?"
Flo scraped at the corner of the tray with a sigh,"predictable Locky, never knows what's good for him."
"Lockwood's busy working on the outbreak." George interrupted, "he's sent us to ask you something."
"A question or a favor?" Bright teeth gleamed, "either way, what's in it for me?"
"Aha." George ferreted in a dark corner of his coat. "I have licorice! Lovely tasty licorice…Or maybe I don't…funny, I must've eaten it." He gave a shrug, "I'll have to owe you."
