“Um.” I looked away.
“Fuck, you have a man, don't you?”
“It's complicated,” I murmured.
He chuckled. “Of course it is. Look at you. How could it not be?”
“Me?” I snorted. “Look at you. How are you single? Or maybe you're not. Wait. It's not that you aren't single. You're technically single even though you date a lot of women, right? You just don't commit to any of them.”
Garret laughed as he leaned back. “I'll take that as a compliment even though it's a little insulting. And no, I'm not dating anyone right now. I know this sounds hokey, but I'm looking for the one. I'd like to settle down.”
“Wow. I didn't think men actually said that.”
“Not even your man?”
“My man isn't my man anymore,” I whispered. “I'm not sure who he is.”
A little frown creased Garret's forehead. “You weren't just putting me off. You were telling the truth when you said it's complicated.”
“More than you can imagine.”
“Do you wanna talk about it?”
I laughed. “You'd think I was crazy.”
“Try me.”
“Another basket?” the waitress asked as she walked up.
Garret lifted his brows at me.
“Actually, can I get a hamburger, please? No, wait. A bacon cheeseburger.”
“Sure, honey. Garret?”
“Make it two,” Garret said, still staring at me. “And another basket.”
“You got it.” She hurried off.
“The past year has been hell,” I started.
I couldn't believe I was going to tell this to a stranger. But Garret didn't feel like a stranger anymore, and I needed someone to talk to. Someone sane. Someone who didn't worship a man who might be God or the Devil. Or maybe something worse than either of those.
“Indigo Darling, I know all about hell,” he said. “You can talk to me. Tell me anything.”
So, I did. I told Garret about Jake's cancer, his miraculous recovery, and our insane trip to Montana. When I got to the part about the cult and commune—let's call a spade, a spade—he went still. Real still.
“Indigo.” Garret took my hand and leaned in. “I know those people.”
“You do? Have you investigated them?”
“Yes. It's my current job.”
“What? Really? Oh, God. Who's investigating them? Are they dangerous? I think they're dangerous. I mean, if I told you what I'd seen, you'd think I was nuts.”
“Yeah, you said that already.” He pressed his lips together, then said, “I can't tell you everything. Confidentiality agreement.”
“Oh,” I whispered.
