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“Do you feel better about following me to the house now?”
“No,” Felicity shook her head, “I really, really don't.” I don't trust the Bratva, so I don't trust you, and I certainly don't trust your boss.
“Ok,” Digg scooted out from his side of the booth, “How about I follow you home, make sure you get in alright, and tomorrow I'll take you for breakfast and we'll talk some more about it? You can sleep on it? Right?”
“Mr. Diggle, while I appreciate the offer I don't think this is really nec-”
“Your mother thought it was,” Diggle tossed the last of their trash into a bin by the door. “She thought it was necessary enough to call in a favor.”