Page 49 of Pretty Nightmare

“I don’t know,” I tell Nate.

Nathan is trying to get to his feet, but I walk over and place a hand on his shoulder, pushing him back down. “Did he take Indie, McKay?”

“No. And sit your ass there. Don’t move. Donovan sent me out here to dispose of your body. He thinks you’re dead. I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Why do you take orders from him?”

I glare down at Nathan. “I don’t take orders from Donovan. No one takes orders from Donovan. Not even Indie takes orders from Donovan.”

He huffs and whispers, “Whatever.”

I consider Nathan’s earlier words about Donovan as I watch his car disappear through the Old Home gate and turn left, in the direction of New Orleans, and not Pearl Springs. Do you have any idea what kind of monster that man is? But then my phone buzzes in my pocket and I turn my attention to things I can control. I answer it with a curt, “Yeah,” then listen to the voice on the line as I stare at the mansion. Indie is still in there. Donovan left her. Why? “We’re ready,” I tell the voice on the phone. “And you can pull down the driveway. No one will see you.”

I end the call, then help Nathan to his feet. The car arrives long before I get him back to the cottage. But my men wait patiently, inside the car, until we’re upon them. Then both the front doors open at the same time.

Beck is closest on the driver’s side, so he grips Nathan with one meaty hand on his upper arm and then Moore is there, opening the door to the back seat. They’re shoving him in without ceremony when Nate places a hand on the edge of the roof, resisting. “Where are they taking me?”

“Just go with it, Nathan. You don’t have any choice now. The deal has been made.”

Moore pries Nathan’s grip loose from the edge of the roof, places a hand on his head, and pushes him inside the car.

Beck slams the door and then turns to me as Moore walks around to the passenger side and slips into the back seat next to Nathan. “What’s the plan with this one?”

“Same,” I tell him. “Same as always. Get him ready. He’s not up to par, but he’s close. I know what he’s capable of, so don’t go easy. Full ride for this one.”

“Got it,” Beck says, sloppily saluting me with a finger. “Talk soon.”

I don’t wait for them to pull away before I start walking back to the house. I don’t even look back.

Indie. That’s all I’m thinking about now.

Then I huff out a laugh. Because she is all I’ve thought about for the last ten fucking years.

I do it for you, Indie. Everything. It’s all for you.

The minute I walk through the screen door and enter the foyer I feel it.

I can’t describe the feeling. But it’s there.

I walk down the hallway towards Adam’s office. But the moment I see that the door is open, I know she’s not in there.

Still, it’s good practice to check. There is a recording device on the desk that I recognize as Donovan’s outdated mini-tape player. But there is no tape inside. Just the empty machine with the cartridge door left open.

The couch on the long end of the office is empty. But even if I didn’t know Indie was in here with Donovan, I would know. I can feel her phantom presence and smell the lingering scent of her shampoo.

I retreat to the front stairs and take them two at a time. This time the door I approach is closed. But I can feel a whoosh of wind coming from under the door as I stand in front of it with bare feet.

I open the door and the curtains on the far window billow out from the wind.

The screen is gone and so is Indie.

I take a deep breath and force myself to remain calm as I walk over to the window and peek out towards the woods. A rush of panic fills my chest. Tightens it. Like a vice on my heart. And then the questions come rolling in, unbidden.

How long did Donovan have her in the office?

When did he bring her up here?

How long was she alone after he left her?