Page 188 of Bona Fide

? The Scientist —Coldplay ?

“Eight bucks for a shot glass,”Marty mutters next to me, holding up a blue one with the Yellowstone National Park emblem on it. “Do people actually do this, Tsarina, because I’m saving lives here on a daily basis. Please don’t tell me people are this stupid.”

I clasp a hand on his shoulder. “Welcome back to your little slice of reality.” He groans in disapproval, placing it back on one of the shelves with the hundred other designs of glasses, and walks off.

Marty took us to Old Faithful, and Mama wanted to go to the gift shop to buy us both something to remember our trip. She’s having the time of her life right now. I’ve never heard her laugh so much, and it seems like it’s been a lifetime since I’ve seen her really smile since I moved to New York. Marty beams each time she chuckles, and it warms my heart.

This is how it was always supposed to be.

Not Marty going off to the Marines because Mama lost her health insurance or me almost marrying Grant. It was always supposed to be this small family; us loving each other and doing silly things, going on trips and making the best of the moments we have together.

Moving back to let two small kids walk through the narrow aisle, I bump into another body.

“I’m sorry.” Before I can even pivot around to acknowledge the person, they lean closer to my ear with their chest pressed into my back.

“Follow me, Miss Shelton.”

My body doesn’t function at his voice. I know exactly who it is, but there’s no reason why he should be here. In Wyoming, at Yellowstone National Park, the president doesn’t visit these places unless there is an imperative disaster, right?

My eyes flick to Marty and Mama looking at colorful rocks. Marty is wrinkling his nose, probably because of the price, and Mama lightly elbows him in the stomach.

Turning to the sound of the voice, I catch his back. Wearing a brown leather coat and jeans with a blue baseball cap on. His typical “in the streets” look.

Hesitantly, I follow him, watching him go towards a dark hallway where one of his suits stand out to me like a sore thumb. Mainly because he doesn’t acknowledge me approaching, and he looks like he smashes rocks with his hands for fun.

Wade’s shadow stands in the middle of the darkened hall, before he opens a door and steps inside for me to pursue him. The moment I’m inside, I realize we’re in a small storage closet where the extra souvenirs are kept, and he waits for me to fully emerge inside before closing the door.

“What’s going on?” I ask before he turns to face me. His eyes are what I notice first; tired, puffy, and exasperated. “Are you okay? I got a call from—”

“Thank you for following me,” he replies. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t absolutely need to be.” He inches closer, stealing my next exhale. His cologne wafts around me, melting me into one of the shelves I’m currently leaning against.

“Okay,” I deadpan.

“Demi knows where you live now and about your business—” He holds up a hand when my mouth opens. “—she knows nothing about us. She knows that there is someone, but I’m going to let Indie take that fall.”

My brows knit. “What? You can’t—”

“It’s not your decision,” he dismisses flatly. “Nothing major can happen to her.”

Um, does he not remember what happened to me?

“Emmy called me,” I vouch. “She said you’re—”

“I heard about it. It won’t happen again.” I take an unsteady step in his direction, wanting to wrap my arms around him and promise things will be okay. That I’ll be here.

However, I believe there is so much I don’t know. That I can’t do. And I won’t swear to anything when I can’t control it.

“You can’t let that poor woman bear the weight of all of that,” I retort. “You don’t understand how much it effects—”

“I have a pretty good idea.”

“Stop interrupting me. You saw what happened. But let me assure you, it’s not fun.”

“What I can tell you—” His face darkens in the limited light that’s attempting with all its forty watts to light up the space. “—is that it’s not going to happen to you...again.”

My heart swells, but I ignore it. Indie may have had what I left behind and slapped me in the face, more than likely because Wade ratted us out, but she doesn’t know what sort of hurricane Demi can produce when the bitch puts her mind to it. It’s not calming or reassuring in the least.

“I can handle my mistakes.”

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