Page 59 of The Rut in the Road

I nodded.

“You know they filled it in?” he asked, softly.

I nodded again. It didn’t matter that the real well was now just bricks sticking out of solid earth. The well that mattered, the one I found myself trapped in again and again, was entirely of my own devising. If I wanted to think seriously about why, I probably could have come up with a dozen reasons.

I felt trapped by my past, my magic, my job—although I really didn’t want to resent that—and even, sometimes, by Raj’sconstant worry about my physical safety. And it wasn’t that I even wanted to change all those things—or could, I suppose. I couldn’t change my past, of course. But I was working on my magic, trying to control it rather than letting it control me. I did actually like my job, even if I didn’t like the fact that I felt obligated to the men who had given it to me because there was absolutely no way I’d ever be able to repay them. And I didn’t want to get out of my relationship because I did feel safer with Raj—safer, cared for, protected. With Raj—and also with Vi, although in a very different way—I felt like I could stop constantly trying to be someone that I wasn’t in order to make other people happy, and I liked that.

So I guess I didn’t want to fill in my well. The psychological one that haunted my nightmares. I sighed heavily, and Raj’s arms gave me a little squeeze.

“You want to talk about it?” he asked.

“No.” I didn’t like talking about things that I hadn’t thoroughly thought through yet. If I tried, the words got all knotted and tumbled together and didn’t make much sense, to me or to anyone else.

A squeak came from somewhere near the door.

Raj stiffened behind me, then pushed himself up on his elbow.

“I—” I heard him swallow, my own body tense as adrenaline re-flooded my muscles. “I think your new friend might be worried about you,” he finished.

“What?” That made no sense.

“Your rat. Victor. He’s… sitting in the doorway.”

I squinted through the darkness at the doorway. “He’s… in the doorway?”

“Yeah.” Apparently satisfied with the fact that there was an undead rat sitting in the doorway, Raj’s body relaxed, although he stayed propped up on one elbow behind me. “Although Idon’t think I want to share a bed with him.” A pause. “No offense, little buddy,” he said, and I thought he might have addressed that last comment to Victor.

I couldn’t really blame him for not wanting an undead rat on the bed. I wasn’t really bothered by Victor, and I wasn’t sure I wanted him on the bed, either.

“I’m okay,” I told the darkness of the doorway. Then, remembering what Mason had said about me having some sort of metaphysical connection to the rat, I tried to send calming thoughts through the aether—the magical space between people and things that was sort of like air, but also not at all like air. I only sort of understood the concept.

“Not on the bed,” Raj told the darkness, presumably talking to Victor.

“He’s not going back to his box?” I asked.

“No,” came the response, but Raj didn’t sound particularly upset. “He just curled up in your shirt on the floor.”

I thought about that for a second, then decided I didn’t care, since I wasn’t going to re-wear my shirt without washing it anyway. “Okay,” I said.

“He probably likes the smell,” Raj remarked as he lowered himself back to the mattress, then pulled me against him. “Can’t blame him,” he murmured into my hair.

“Do I smell?” I asked him.

He laughed softly. “You smell good,” he replied, sticking his nose in my hair and inhaling.

“You like how my shampoo smells?” I’d never really thought about it much. I used cheap shampoo. It smelled more or less like soap to me.

“No,” came the response. “I like howyousmell. Your shampoo is at least non-offensive, but it’syouI want to smell.” He nuzzled against the back of my skull, breathing in again.

This time, when I tried to settle back into his big, warm body, I found my muscles were willing to loosen.

“Mera ravi?” he murmured against my hair.

“Yeah?”

“You need a better rat cage than a cardboard box,” he told me.

“Um.”