Page 41 of The Last Morgan

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“So are you.”

He kissed her again — slower this time, deeper, as if memorizing the taste of her. And then he jumped out of the pool.

Lucy knew, without a doubt: She would never be the same again. As she dunks her head under the water to really cool off this time.

Byron didn’t say a word about what had happened at the pool, he jumped back straight into his role as security.

And Lucy?

Lucy was going mad.

Her body still buzzed from the memory of his hands, his mouth, the way he’d looked at her like he’d drown himself in her if she let him.

But now — now it was like none of it had happened.

She hated it.

She hated how much she wanted him to look at her like that again. ‘I need a distraction’ she thought as she walked to go check on Barnaby.

Lucy padded in, wearing soft leggings and an oversized hoodie, hair damp from the pool.

“How’s it going?” she asked, voice hoarse.

Barnaby’s eyes didn’t leave the screen.

“I found something,” he said tightly.

Lucy’s stomach dropped.

“What kind of something?”

He clicked a few keys, bringing up a grainy, flickering server map. “This.”

One server blipped red — buried under dozens of fake routes, dead-end IPs, and ghost firewalls.

Barnaby leaned back in his chair, rubbing his face.

“It’s an old offshore server. One of Rebecca’s old one, it just came online.”

Lucy leaned over his shoulder, frowning.

“That’s good, right?”

Barnaby exhaled slowly.

“Yes and no.”

He clicked on another window. Streams of data poured across the screen.

“She’s baiting us. Sending out dummy signals. Making it look like she’s everywhere at once.”

Lucy swore under her breath.

“She’s in the city,” Barnaby said grimly. “I’m sure of it. She’s close. But she’s hiding behind layers of garbage data.

He slammed the keyboard lightly in frustration.

Byron drifted into the room like a shadow, watching silently.

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