Page 17 of Lovely Darkness

I can’t promise that. I doubt I have any real say in what’s happening here. But I nod anyway. “Right. Not killing him.”

Then we both go back to our rooms and I listen to the occupants of Old Home as the creaks, and whispers, and rattling of doors makes a soothing sort of conversation. Lulling me to sleep.

CHAPTER FIVE - ADAM

It’s almost seven AM by the time we ease the boat back up to the worn-out dock on the river. We take our time putting things right, then silently carry the fish we caught into the woods.

I know what’s waiting for me when we get home. I know McKay followed us last night and I know that Indie probably followed him. At the very least, she woke up at some point and discovered that Maggie and I were missing.

She’s getting pissed about our little adventures. In fact, this might be the last time that Maggie and I will ever get to sneak out in the middle of the night to be alone, so I don’t care if Indie is mad.

I’m kinda mad too. And even though I won’t admit it out loud, I’m also having second thoughts. It’s not exactly about saving Donovan, but it is about saving Donovan. I love the guy. I do. I owe him. He’s kept Indie safe. I count him as a friend and, on occasion, even a lover.

My call to Sasha wasn’t disingenuous. When I made that call I was all in. We were gonna do this. We were gonna save him, and keep Indie sane, and everything was gonna be OK. It would be like the old days, only better. Because we’re all adults now, we’ve been through some shit, we learned our lessons and we’re smarter. We know better.

And that’s the problem.

I know better now.

I want Indie to be a good mother, it’s just I don’t think she ever will be. I don’t think she has it in her to put Maggie first, above all else. There is a reason girls like Indie and Wendy live this long. And that reason is their sense of self-preservation. Their willingness to get things done, regardless of the cost. Indie wants to believe in herself, and so do I. And it’s possible—with Nathan’s help, with my help, and McKay’s help, and, of course, Donovan’s help—it’s possible that she learns how to do this.

But then again, it’s just as possible she doesn’t. In fact, it’s highly likely that she’s so used to not being a mother, that role will never really fit her.

And then there’s Donovan’s chances. I’m doing my best to make sure Donovan has a fighting chance, but do I really believe that Merc is some kind of special miracle worker? Do I really believe that he can pull this off? That he can undo what has been done?

No.

Right now, I’m going through the motions just like everyone else.

Add in Nick’s confession last night and what we have here is the closest thing I’ve ever come to a futile act of desperation.

Wendy isn’t gonna make it either. And Wendy, creepy as she is, is a helluva lot better adjusted to normal life than Indie. Wendy, at least, has been living on her own for seven years now. No handler—and Nick doesn’t count. He says they’re married. Fine. But they are the furthest thing from husband and wife there is. McKay and I are closer to a married couple than they are.

But Nick doesn’t matter. He’s not the point. The point is Wendy can function by herself. She has limits, sure. But in reality, Wendy is a business owner. An entrepreneur. She doesn’t pay taxes or anything like that, but she does work. People like me come to her with problems and expect her to get answers. Wendy delivers the goods, too. On time and everything.

Maybe Wendy’s not as normal as Sasha, but Sasha is an exception. There are a dozen asterisks after her name when it comes to integration into the normal life she’s living. Death count aside, a revenge scheme when you’re thirteen to get retribution for the Company killing your entire family doesn’t even live on the same planet as what Indie and Wendy did as children.

I’m like ninety-nine percent positive that Wendy hasn’t killed anyone in years. Indie, on the other hand? I have no fucking idea what she’s been doing for the past four years. The only person who does know is Carter.

And that’s not good.

None of this is good.

I only have myself to blame because Gerald Couture warned me that night of the auction fourteen years ago. He warned me. We paid a price.

He was right. None of this life with Indie was what I thought it would be. Most of it was better, if I’m being honest. She did good. She was real good. And we love her. But we’ve paid a price.

And now, when I look at Maggie, I am Gerald. I am Gerald and I am cautioning myself. It’s not what you think, Adam. It’s not what you think.

I’m right, too. Just like Gerald was.

When I try to look into the future—one of those ‘where do you see yourself in five years’ type of thought exercises—there is no Indie.

And that hurts. A lot.

Because number one, I have to admit I failed. But that’s not the worst of it. The worst of it is… it was all my fault that I failed.

It’s all my fault that Indie is this woman.