Page 132 of Pretty Nightmare

She was my world for four years. Four beautiful, peaceful, blissful years.

I never actually left her healing center. We settled down in that cabin and fucked. We ate. And laughed. And had afternoon tea.

Of course, I did go back to LA all the time. But LA was never my home. Old Home was never my home either. Hell, my actual home wasn’t even my home.

That cabin in the woods with Ana Avery, that was the only place I ever felt at home.

I pet Indie’s hair. But my eyes are closed, so I imagine I’m petting Ana instead.

I miss her so damn much. And if I could make a trade—come up with some… sacrifice to give to the fucked-up gods running this place—I would give anything. I would trade anything to be with Ana again.

Sometimes when I think about her, I want to cry.

But we don’t cry.

That’s what Ana’s will said. There will be no crying at my funeral.

We don’t ever cry.

We only celebrate.

I get up and go out into the great room, looking for my shorts. I’m not tired and I doubt I’ll get any more sleep tonight. I’m just about to turn around and go into the kitchen to make a snack when I see a flash of movement through the long wall of French doors that open into the neglected back gardens.

Someone is here.

I can’t go through these doors. The alarms will wake up the whole fucking forest. I go back to the other side of the house, disarm the security system with my master passcode, and slip outside, closing the door behind me.

I stand on the porch for a moment. Listening. Waiting.

And then I hear it. Someone is walking through the trees off to the right. “Hello?” I call. “If there’s anyone out there, you better get the fuck out of here.”

I walk down the porch steps, stop at the bottom to listen and look, and hear it again. “I’m fucking warning you. I have a gun and I will blow your fucking head off.”

And then he steps out of the woods.

And I almost lose my breath. “Carter?”

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT - INDIE

I feel Donovan get out of bed, but I’m so comfortable, I don’t care. My dreams are sweet for once. Filled with love and warmth. I half remember the night before. The sex, yes. But afterward too. Because we all sank into that couch like a heap of best friends, and then Donovan cracked a joke, and we were all laughing.

It felt like… finally. Finally this is right.

This is who we are and where we belong.

And it’s real. It’s something that lasts.

I let myself replay it all in my head again. The whole day. Even though it started out confusing, it ended just perfect. The whole afternoon on the river was fun. Sitting in the sun, and just enjoying each other.

We’ve never done that before. Life before today has always felt like a struggle.

And then, all of a sudden—it’s easy.

Just easy.

I hear some noise coming from the other side of the house. The sound of the front door opening and closing.

I sigh, forcing my eyes open. I should go see what’s bothering Donovan. He would do the same for me if I was the one wandering the halls of Old Home. So I get up, find my clothes in the great room, and walk quickly down the breezeway, stopping for a just a moment to push open the mostly closed door of the other bedroom where Adam and McKay fell asleep.