Page 43 of Pretty Nightmare

I don’t answer him. Just continue walking towards the house. I go inside and when I walk past Adam’s office to get to the kitchen, I can hear Donovan talking in a low, calm voice on the other side of the door.

But I don’t stop to listen or go in and ask him what’s up. I just continue to the back of the house where the kitchen is and stop in front of the cupcakes and empty champagne bottles.

I know she drugged the mimosas. I think I knew that before Nathan even left with Maggie this morning. But I am truly stunned to notice the little bits of—what are those things?—in the frosting of the cupcakes.

I pick one up, swipe my finger through it, and then I get that feeling in my gut. That feeling that says something has gone terribly wrong while I wasn’t looking.

Daphne berries.

That’s when everything truly comes back to me. Why Adam was in the truck with Maggie.

She ate the berries.

That’s what sent Indie into a frenzy. It wasn’t Nathan catching us having sex. It was just… her. Indie. Reacting. Or overreacting, as per usual.

She didn’t just try to kill us. She tried to kill her daughter too.

I pick up the cake plate where she had arranged the cupcakes in a neat circle and I dump the whole fucking thing into the trash.

When I go back outside Nathan has managed to get to his feet and is limping through the garden in the direction of his cottage. Which is a pretty impressive accomplishment, all things considering.

He’s tougher than he lets on, that’s for sure.

I jog after him. My head is straighter, but not wholly well. So I have to stop and bend over when I get dizzy.

But Nathan isn’t moving very fast either. And he waits for me to catch up before he even gets halfway to the little path that cuts through the trees.

He bends over, the palms of his hands braced on his knees to keep himself from falling forward. “Whatever you’re gonna do, do it then. I’m fucking done with you people.”

“You people?”

“Company.” He spits on the ground and then looks up at me without straightening his body. His face is turning into a purple fucking mess right before my eyes.

“What do you know about it?”

He laughs. Well, tries to. Then forces himself to stand back up so he can glare at me through that one half-good eye. “I know what I was told.”

“And who told you? Your grandfather?”

“Did you think someone who was not Company would just be given a little house next to the Boucher family?”

I knew this. Have known it since—well, always. I am well aware of who the Bouchers are. I understand them better than anyone. Probably better than they understand themselves. It’s hard to see what’s right in front of you sometimes. You need to take a few steps back to get a clear picture. And even though Adam and I hardly ever talked about Nathan and his grandfather, we didn’t have to.

This big revelation of Nathan’s right now? It has been an unsaid fact since the day he showed up back when he was still too young to even go to kindergarten.

Nathan spits again, this time off to the side. “So if he wants me dead? Fuck it. He’s always wanted me dead.”

I frown at him. “Who?”

“Who the hell do you think? Adam, of course.”

“Look.” I shake my head and sigh. “We haven’t liked you in a long time. But we never sat around plotting your fucking demise, Nathan. It’s just not like that. We don’t have time to hand out fucks to people like you.”

He chuckles a little. And I can tell it hurts him. It’s quite probable that Indie broke a few ribs when she was spinning out of control. “I guess we’ll have to agree to disagree about that, McKay.”

“Whatever. I’m not interested in your cryptic secrets. I’ve got enough of my own.”

“I bet you do.”