Page 45

Loren

Three days had passedsince I came home, and it should have been wonderful. For the first time in over a hundred years, I was free. I would never need to go to Hell again, never be startled with another summons or a request to service my mistress in whatever capacity she required. And Indy… Indy was perfect. Happy, healthy, and whole.

It was all I’d ever wanted, more than I’d dared to hope for, but I couldn’t enjoy any of it because I finally hadeverything, just in time to lose it.

Rather than cherishing the past seventy-two hours, I had stumbled through them in a miserable fog. I hadn’t slept because every time I closed my eyes, I saw Nero looming over me, wielding angry fists and equally violent threats. Then I envisioned those threats coming alive with Indy locked in a cage, crying out while glittery tears rolled down his cheeks.

The grocery store trip had been a welcome distraction. I felt almost human, almost convinced life was normal, that what was in the past could stay there and the future didn’t look so bleak. They were strange thoughts to have while mulling over brown versus white eggs, but it meant that I could breathe. I listened toIndy enumerating the kinds of snack cakes and potato chips he was going to shove down Whitney’s gullet, and I wasfine.

Until I wasn’t.

The smell of brimstone wafting toward the trailer had robbed me of my fleeting sense of security. Watching that boulder of a man barrel into our home like he belonged there broke something in me and scattered the pieces so far and wide I wasn’t sure I would ever find them again.

It was like Nero himself strode into view and grabbed me by the throat. Shook me like he had so many times in those days and weeks trekking across the country. Rattled my brain till blood leaked from my nose.

But I hadn’t talked, and I hadn’t taken him anywhere near my treasure because protecting Indy was paramount. He was the most precious thing in this world or the one below, and I knew that. Whitney didn’t. The other hounds couldn’t.

Whitney claimed he was bringing help, but if Nero or the witch captured them, if they questioned them or applied painful pressure, they would snap. Then they would lead the archdemon straight to us because Whitney had showed them the way.

I said I wouldn’t run anymore. I swore it. But here I was, tucking tail and turning my back on a situation that was slipping rapidly out of my control.

With my truck totaled and the Airstream so recently invaded, I had limited options for privacy. It felt risky leaving Indy, but I couldn’t let him see this. So, I started walking, circling the trailer park in wide loops, moving my feet to my heart’s thundering rhythm.

I walked, and I looked at nothing. The campers and doublewides became blurs in my peripheral. Chirping birds and rustling leaves were reduced to meaningless racket. It was loud, but I was quiet. Always so goddamn quiet, and sometimes I thought it would feel good to yell. To scream out all the fear andanger and muddled things I couldn’t name. Feelings that were stronger than me, binding me up tight.

My hound waited for orders, but I had none. I had never been in control, even before I died, and I didn’t trust myself with it. I didn’t want to be my own master. So, I stayed in place when I should have moved. Too mired in doubt to go anywhere or do anything.

I couldn’t go back to the trailer and let Indy sit in my lap, petting and preening and trying to pry the truth out of me because he was happy, but he knew I was not. My mask was slipping and revealing all the cracks and fissures underneath. I couldn’t let him see. I couldn’t letanyonesee, so I went to the only place I could be alone: the scummy bathhouse at the top of the hill.

Once inside, I needed more than running water and a flimsy plastic curtain to ensure my isolation. I needed a door and a lock so no one could interrupt or intervene.

I went into one of the wood-walled bathroom stalls and flipped down the toilet lid. Then I sat on top of it and drew my knees up, compressing the whole of my 6’3” height into the smallest ball I could manage. I tucked in and squeezed my arms around myself, tighter and tighter until I thought my shinbones might crack.

It was like being in the kennels. Or in that damned motel closet. I hated it there, but I hated this more. I hatedmelike this. Sniveling and shaking and alone. I deserved to be alone. Maybe that was why everyone wanted to trap me or put me away. Hell, I was so well trained that I did it to myself. Forced isolation when what I wanted most was the comfort of Indy’s embrace.

He would have held me if I asked. But I couldn’t.

I’d lied to him with my silence, and now he knew. It had only been a day since I’d learned I could speak again, but I hadn’t. I was too afraid to open my mouth and let my insides out. Givingmy thoughts voice gave them power, and they were already ruling me. Ruining me. Ruining everything.

There hadn’t been anyone in the bathhouse when I arrived. No steam in the air or water running from the showerheads. I’d even had my choice of vacant toilet stalls. But now footsteps approached, quick pattering feet that reminded me of the last time I hid in here after a night in Moira’s bed, and Indy found me.

It seemed he’d found me again.

“Loren?” His voice echoed in the cinderblock building, drawing closer. “I know you’re here. I saw you come in.”

More scuffing against the cement, followed by a noisy sigh. “Loren, don’t you dare hide from me. You’ve been hiding from me for days, and… fuck.”

I held my breath, curling into myself and torn between the urge to run to him and the need to disappear.

Beneath the closed stall door, Indy’s platform boots tromped into view. He stopped, blocked only by the wall between us. All was quiet for a few seconds until he spoke again.

“I just want you back, baby. I thought I had you back, but it’s like you’re still gone, and I… I can’t keep doing this.”

The pleading whine in his voice made me weak.

I winced as he sighed again and said, “I can’t do this alone.”

I deserved to be alone. Put away. Punished. But I didn’t want that, and I couldn’t bear my treasure standing a few feet away believing I did.