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 bite my lip to hide my grin.
“When did you look at me differently?” he asks.
“Oh …” I roll my eyes to the ceiling, lips corkscrewed. “I mean, I fantasized about you from a very early age. And the first time you put me on Ranger with you, I declared you my new obsession. And on my fourteenth birthday, when I saw you screwing some woman in the barn, I ran home and touched myself for the first time.”
“Christ.” Milo tries to slide me off his lap.
I don’t let him. “What?”
“I don’t want to get …” He hesitates.
“Get what? Turned on by my confession?”
“Correct.” Again, he tries to slide me off his lap. “Getting a goddamn boner from hearing about you at fourteen touching yourself and thinking about me is wrong, Indie. It’s just wrong.”
I giggle. “Do you know that, in some countries, girls get married at fourteen?”
“Well, not here.”
I tighten my hold around his neck and wiggle my ass on his lap while he groans his conflicted feelings. “The world doesn’t care about us. It doesn’t wait for us. Why should we care about it? Why should we wait for it? We’re not like everyone else.”
Milo stops fighting me and relaxes, brushing my hair behind my ear on one side. “Yeah,” he whispers.
“Let’s go visit your sister.”
Again, those lines in his forehead form deep creases. “I need a shower. Come shower with me first.”
I grin. “I already showered.”
He slides my shirt up my torso. “Not with me.”
41
UNEARTHING THE TRUTH
MILO
Some truths can’t stay hidden forever. Reality can be an unrelenting bitch that won’t be ignored. She wants to be felt and acknowledged.
“What are you doing?” Indie asks when I pull into the parking lot of the cemetery. Her voice is a little uneasy.
It’s not a private cemetery like the Ellingtons’. I don’t know most of the people buried here. But I know a few.
I kill the engine and inhale as much strength as possible in one breath. “We’re visiting Annie.”
Indie shakes her head. “I … I don’t understand.”
I hop out of my truck and round the front of it, bracing myself for feelings I have yet to fully feel, and I open Indie’s door.
She looks at me with red, teary eyes. “How did she die?” she whispers.
I chose you, Indie girl. And I’d do it again.
“A long time ago, her twin brother accidentally shot her in the head. She survived, but it took years off her life. It was … her time.” Everything inside me hurts despite the love and gratitude I have for Indie. She’s too good at feeling me. I can’t give this burden to her.
“Milo …” She quickly wipes her eyes.
I take her hand and lead her to a grave I have not seen yet, a grave I can’t prove exists. But I knew the rules. And I knew Fletcher. As sure as he took his own life when I left him with the tools to do it, he arranged a long time ago for Annie to leave the world when he did.
He was a horrible man, but he loved my brother too much to be inhumane with Annie. I’m confident she didn’t suffer. The suffering was only meant for me.
Indie’s grip on my hand tightens when I slow to a stop. That one percent of doubt is put to rest when I see Annie’s name etched in granite next to Archer’s and our parents’. She’s farthest from our dad. I should thank Fletcher for that.
Releasing Indie’s hand, I lower in front of the headstone, tracing her name with my finger. “Hey, Annie. I want you to meet Indiana. She’s a feisty creature much like you.”
Indie sniffles behind me.
“Remember when you used to ask me to lasso the moon for you? Well, now I lasso it for Indie. That should tell you how much she means to me.”
Indie rests her hand on my shoulder, giving it a little squeeze.
When I stand, Indie takes my hands and lifts onto her toes, kissing the corner of my mouth. “Give me a few minutes alone with your family. Okay?”
Well, fuck. I’ve managed to keep my shit together, but now she’s sucker-punching my emotions. I can’t say a word or else I’ll crack, and it won’t be pretty. So I nod and head back to the truck.
An hour. Indie doesn’t spend a few minutes with them; she spends an hour with them. Eyes swollen and red, she smiles when she climbs into the truck. It’s a beautiful smile. “Okay. We can go.”
I watch her fasten her seat belt and retrieve a tissue from her purse. Then I take her home.
“An attorney called me today,” Indie says weeks later when I arrive home from my new job.
I found another ranching job for less money. Less corruption. But plenty to do. “Oh?” I hang my hat on the hook she nailed to the wall for me.