Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 97369 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97369 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
I fucking needed her that night.
She chuckles. “But I know you’re strong. And while I drove home that night, I thought of how stupid it was for me to think you needed me when you never really told me about your past. And I was reminded that I had never been those arms for you. So why … why did I make such a stupid assumption that you would suddenly be comforted by me?”
“Indiana …”
“Don’t.” She shakes her head. “It’s been years. I’m not trying to make you feel bad. I just wanted you to know that I was thinking of you that night.” The delicate hint of a smile rests on her lips. Then she clears her throat. “You have a sister.”
I take a few seconds to let my mind shift from the fact that she was waiting for me after Archer died to her knowing I have a sister. I can’t protect her and share everything. It makes me look like an asshole, an uncaring asshole incapable of reciprocating the same kind of love.
“Yeah, listen …” I blow out a long breath. “Fletcher can never know I told you about her.”
“Well, you didn’t tell me about her. I know nothing about her. Like I know nothing about your brother. Like I know very little about you.”
Nice right hook. I deserve it.
“And I don’t see Fletcher. How would he know when he doesn’t know where I’m at?”
“Indie.” I toss my napkin onto my plate. “Fletcher doesn’t know your whereabouts because he doesn’t need to. If … when the day comes that he wants to see you or talk to you, he will find you. And I’m just saying you can never breathe a word about my sister.”
“Why?”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “It’s best if you don’t know. The less you have to lie about, the better.”
Her gaze drops to her half-eaten plate of food as her mouth falls into a frown. “What are you doing here? You told me to leave and never come back. Your life hasn’t changed. Fletcher still pulls the strings. Jolene is still your wife. So please … tell me why you’re here with me?”
My boot slides next to her white sneaker, and she glances up at me. “I needed to catch my breath,” I murmur.
After several long blinks, she moves her other foot next to mine, trapping my boot in the middle. “Have you caught it?”
I frown while slowly shaking my head.
Indie grabs her book and opens it. “They close at ten.”
For the next hour, Indie reads her book, occasionally glancing in my direction when she turns a page. And I … well, I watch her … and I breathe.
Laying cash on the table for her dinner and mine, I push back in my chair. If Benjamin’s having a rough evening, I fear Jolene will let him scream in his crib while she holes up on the other side of the house with earplugs in her ears. And Fletcher will no doubt be drunk and passed out.
Indie looks up. “Home?”
I nod.
She closes her book and stands, sliding her cross-body bag over her shoulder and her book into the bag. “Thanks for dinner. I could have paid for mine.”
“You’re welcome. Do you need anything? Money? Transportation? Stamps?” I follow her outside.
“No.” She laughs. “I have a scooter. And I can’t believe you remember the stamps.”
“A scooter?”
Indie nods. “Yes. An electric scooter. I had a car, but the payment was too much. So I rented scooters for a while, but since then, I’ve saved up and bought my own.”
She saved for a scooter.
I moved from a barn apartment to a ten thousand square foot home, and Indie moved from a Texas mansion to saving for an electric scooter.
“Well, I guess this is it.” Her hands slip into her front pockets. “It was nice catching up.” She rocks back and forth on her heels, the wind catching her long hair. So beautiful.
“Remember our last time together?”
Heat turns her cheeks extra pink, and she stares at her feet. “How could I forget?”
I shrug. “Time steals many things. Memories are vulnerable. Emotions fade. Every moment feels irreplaceably important. Until the next. In four years, you’ve had a lot of next moments.”
Indie looks up at me. “Like a video game with the top scores? Over time, someone else takes the top spot?”
“Yeah.”
“Mmm … I see.” She turns and looks both ways before crossing the street to the scooter chained to the light post by the flower shop.
“Ranger would feel betrayed,” I call when she frees her scooter.
Erupting into a fit of laughter, she takes off on her scooter. “Night, Milo.”
“Night, Indie girl,” I say to myself, mesmerized by her figure fading into the distance.
28
LET HIM DIE
“I’ve gotten nothing done. Thanks for that.” Jolene passes a fussy Benjamin to me the second I remove my boots and hat. “I’ll tell my client she has you to thank when we lose this case tomorrow.” Her feet pound toward the other wing of the house.