Page 105 of Pretty Nightmare

I take a deep breath. “Seems to be working fine.”

“No shit, you dumbass! I punched you in the chest. That made you gasp. And then when you didn’t open your eyes, I slapped your face.”

“Really?” I look around again, the drug wearing off quickly. “Wait. How are you so awake? We just went down.”

“Didn’t you just hear me? I woke up. You didn’t.”

“That’s crazy. I feel fine.”

“Oh, my God.” She slaps herself on her forehead. “I’m never doing this with you again. I think you had a bad reaction, Donovan. I think you almost died.”

I laugh. “It’s pretty hard to kill someone with the dose I gave us. It wasn’t even close enough to knock us straight out. It was just a sedation. Oh!” I turn and grab the recorder. “What did we say?”

“I didn’t listen to it.”

I study the recorder. “But it’s not on. Someone turned it off.”

“Or”—Indie is still mad. I think I really did scare her—“you didn’t turn it on.”

“Of course I turned it on. That was the whole point of doing this.” I sigh. “Well, do you remember anything? Did you answer any of the questions?”

“No. It didn’t ask me anything. I was in like a dream state, and it was a forest. Just like my nightmare. But I didn’t hear any questions.”

“Dammit. How did I fuck this up so bad? And I heard questions. They weren’t exactly the ones I recorded though.”

“That’s because it didn’t play.”

“What are you guys doing?”

We both look over at the door where Maggie is standing in her bed shorts and t-shirt.

Indie gets up off the bed and walks over to her, turning her around by the shoulders and marching her into the hallway. “Come on, let’s get breakfast. Donovan promised we could do something adventurous today and I have big plans that you’re going to love. You coming, Donovan?”

I nod, then catch myself. “Yes. I’ll be right down.”

Right after I listen to this tape.

Because I know it recorded.

I know I turned it on.

And I was answering questions.

Questions no one was asking.

CHAPTER TWENTY - ADAM

McKay is already in the shower when I wake up. It’s barely dawn, and even though I need to have this meeting with Nathan, it suddenly feels like a very bad idea.

Especially when Core McKay is naked in the shower just a few feet away.

Huh. It occurs to me that almost exactly twenty-four hours ago I was sitting in the New Orleans house, in another one of my bedrooms, lamenting over the fact that McKay was always so close, just never close enough.

And now everything has changed.

We’re gonna go home. We’re gonna put Indie between us. Probably Donovan too, but whatever. And then we can really begin the process of starting over.

It feels like such a dream. Something wholly unattainable.