Page 104 of Hounded
Indy tracked the gesture, then gave my fingers a squeeze. “It’s okay, baby. I’m okay.”
I wished I could believe him.
Sully had no right to do this. To risk so much for an unknown reward. That made twice she’d gone behind my back and betrayed me, thinking she knew my business better than I did.
“Don’t blame Sully,” Indy said, further evidence he was reading me clearly. “I wanted to try. I would do it again.”
I nodded, but only to assure him I heard. Not that I agreed. Pulling away, I closed the door and put my back to it for a short, shaky moment.
It took longer than it should have to walk around the truck and climb inside. I started the engine and turned on the AC, aiming the vents at my clammy face.
On the other end of the bench seat, Indy rolled onto his side and watched me with hooded eyes. He expelled a fluttering breath.
“Before we go home,” he began.
There they were again: “we” and “home” together.
“Can we stop at the lookout?” Indy asked. “I wanna watch the sunset.”
The lookout was a wide-shouldered spot on the highway far from the city, headed upstate. It perched on the side of a hill with a bit of elevation and only a guardrail between it the valley below. We used to find ourselves there on lazy afternoons, sometimes with a picnic or a few snacks Indy threw in a bag. It was remote, largelyuntraveled, and it offered ample airspace for long talks or cozy make-out sessions.
I nodded. “Sure, Doll.”
Indy held my hand the whole way there, and the drive was quiet. Questions filled my brain, but I didn’t know where to start, so I focused on the road and the feeling of Indy’s fingers winding idly between mine.
When we got to the lookout, I killed the engine then went around to open Indy’s door. He was lethargic and unsteady on his feet, causing him to lean heavily on me as we walked to the truck bed. I let down the tailgate, then grabbed his waist and lifted him up onto it. He smiled and hooked one leg around me, pulling me in between his thighs. I stood there, gently pinned, while he tucked loose locks of hair behind my ears then cupped my cheek in his hand.
“Hi, beautiful,” he murmured, and I felt my face warm against his palm.
I ducked away, and he laughed softly.
“Get up here.” He slid his legs apart, then patted the metal truck bed beside him.
My emotions went to war as I climbed up onto the tailgate. Indy scooted backward and motioned for me to follow toward the cab where we could sit in the corner beside the stacked plastic totes. I glanced at those, feeling ashamed and wondering if Indy noticed the clothes and personal effects stored inside. If he really did remember this life and the others before, then he knew I’d moved out. Knew I’d left him at Hopeful Horizons and told him I wasn’t sure if I still loved him. Of course, I still loved him. I was just… hurt.
I had barely gotten situated before Indy climbed into my lap. He put his back against my chest and nestled his head into the hollow of my shoulder. It should have felt right, but instead, it ached. Pain thrummed so deeply in me that I didn’t breathe as we faced the horizon.
Tension strung my body tight as we sat in quiet. The questions from earlier marched through my mind like an ominous parade. Leading the charge was the most pressing concern, the source of the blame and bitterness that had plagued me for months. I couldn’t ask, couldn’t get it out, but Indy answered anyway.
“It was an accident.” He shifted around to face me, and tears shone in his eyes. “I didn’t mean to leave you, Lore. I’d stay with you forever if I could.”
It was what he’d tried to say at the gallery. Information I wasn’t sure how to receive. Sully asked if the overdose could have been unintentional, but I’d been determined. So eager to lay the blame at Indy’s feet for a century of loss and grief. I couldn’t fault him for his cyclical nature, but I may have indulged myself in this.
If he left me on purpose, I could be angry. Indignant. And spiteful, and wicked, and terribly selfish, and all the things that made me feel more demonic than ever before.
Indy’s eyes flicked across my features and ended on my collar. He frowned at it, then dragged his delicate fingers along its steel links. It was a ginger touch, almost apologetic.
“You know I love you, right?” His brows knit together as he added, “Every time. All the time. I can’t help myself.”
Swallowing, I cupped my hand over his. “Why?”
Indy frowned. “Why do I love you?”
I shook my head. “Why the accident? What did you do?”
I knew what he did. He choked down a handful of amphetamines then burned to death. But that wasn’t what I meant.
His lips pinched, holding back the explanation I asked for—the one I needed. I waited, impatient with the truth so near, while he worked his way through a halting response.
