Page 92 of Pretty Nightmare

“What are you doing?”

“Oh, good. You’re awake. I’m checking the fucking locks on all the windows.”

“Why?”

“Why?” He imitates my Southern drawl. “Because I don’t even know how to fucking shoot. I can’t do fancy kicks, or throw knives. I’m really uncomfortable being here alone with you two. In charge of everything and shit.”

I laugh. I can’t help it.

“It’s not funny. Anything could happen.”

“You’re scared?” I sit up and swing my legs over the side of the bed.

He stares at me. Points his finger at me. “Don’t laugh at me.”

“I’m not.”

“I was in school this whole time. I didn’t grow up like you guys. I feel very ill-equipped here.”

“Just put the alarm on.”

“I already did that. And reprogrammed a new master code. So if anyone tries to leave”—he points at me—“I’ll know. You can get out with your regular code, but unless you have the master, it will beep. All over the house.”

“Number one, I know this. I know how it works. The whole fucking system was put in so I can’t escape. Number two, I’m not going anywhere. Where the hell am I gonna go?”

“I’m not afraid you’re gonna leave, Indie.”

“Oh.” I pause. “Ohhhhhh. Carter.”

“This would be a good opportunity, wouldn’t it? I’m home alone with both of you. Adam and McKay are far away.”

“Jesus, Donovan. Calm down.”

“I can’t.” He paces the room, grabbing at his hair. “I can’t calm down. I’m worried, Indie. And I don’t understand why they left. Why?” He stops in the middle of the room. “Why the fuck would they leave me in charge?”

“Dude. You’re freaking out right now. We’re gonna be fine. If that asshole shows up, I’ll fucking kill him. I would not even blink.”

“So you’re protecting me now?”

I chuckle. “Tell me, please, that this is not all about some alpha-male complex.”

“If it were just me and you?” He points to his chest. “I would be OK with it. But I’m in charge of keeping Maggie safe. I’m not sure I’m up to it, Indie.”

I get to my feet and walk over to him. Gently grab his arm. “Donovan. You need to calm down. We’re locked in. We have a shit-ton of weapons if we need them. And I’m a crazy assassin. We’re OK. I promise.”

He stares at me. Says nothing.

“Is that dinner I smell?”

“Yeah. Maggie’s setting the table.”

“Then let’s eat. OK? We’ll eat, put her to bed, and then I think it’s time for you to have your session. I owe you. We did me and now it’s your turn.”

“Yeah,” he says, scrubbing his unshaven face with both hands. “Yeah. OK.” He exhales. Like he was holding his breath.

“We can do it here. We don’t even have to go to the other side of the house, if you want to stay close to Maggie. We’ll do it in your room. OK?”

He nods. And boy, I’ve never seen Donovan this strung out. But he smiles at me and I get the feeling my words have made a difference.