Page 70 of The Light We Lost

“Bet your old man’s proud to see you turn out just like him.”

“That’s probably the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Tired of this conversation, I stepped around him. Indy was reaching for my hand just as Sam said, “You know what I realized the other day? Indy sort of reminds me of your mom.”

I tilted my head, the music dulling to a low ringing. “What was that?”

“Come on, you can’t tell me you’ve never considered it.”

I turned to face Sam, not surprised to see he was grinning. It was my fault for letting him say some stupid shit over the years. But like he’d acknowledged a moment ago, I was learning from my mistakes.

“You know, it’s not all that surprising. I’d bet anything you sought Indy out because she reminded you of your mom—”

I grabbed the collar of his shirt, chairs screeching as I shoved him backward and held him against the bar counter. There was yelling, someone threatening to call the sheriff, but I blocked it all out.

I gripped Sam’s shirt tighter, and the only reason I didn’t let my fist fly was because he had the sense to not fight back. He was a good-sized guy, capable of putting up a fight. But he would be fighting for himself, whereas I’d be fighting for someone worth more than gold.

His back bowed over the counter as I leaned over him, my voice low. “Disrespect my wife again and I’ll break your goddamn jaw.”

He stared at me with wide eyes, like he wasn’t sure if I was serious or not. But I was damn serious. I was letting him see the truth. How far I’d go to protect Indy, protect her peace.

Refusing to let him walk away without understanding, I tightened my grip, just as a soft voice said, “Take me home, Nolan.”

I looked up and found Indy beside me. After what he’d said, I expected to see shame and disappointment in her eyes, but there was undeniable fierceness instead. It was like a light at the end of the tunnel. It was all I needed to let go. I pushed off the bar counter, not giving Sam a second thought as she turned, leading the way out of the bar. She staggered a step, and I put my hand on the small of her back. She leaned into me, and though I knew it was because of the alcohol, I cherished the touch.

For once, Indy was leaning on me. And for the first time, I wasn’t afraid I’d drop her.

Heath followed us out, and I apologized, letting him know I’d pay for any damage done. I expected him to rip me a new one, but instead he patted me on the back, telling me to take care of Indy.

Not needing to be told twice, I lifted her into my truck, and after convincing her it wasn’t worth egging Sam’s house, I drove toward her parents’ place. Pulling into her drive, I looked to the passenger side where Indy was sleeping. Her head was against the window, her mouth open, and sure enough, there was drool running down her chin.

I smiled to myself, thinking of all the times she had leaned out that window. It didn’t matter if we were cruising through town or down a back road; she’d hang out the window as though she was reaching for the sky, and I’d hook a finger through her belt loop to keep her steady.

I could’ve stayed there all night, but Indy would have a tizzy if she woke up to me staring at her. Reluctantly, I set my hand on her shoulder, gently stirring her awake. “C’mon, Indy. Let’s get you inside.”

She stirred, mumbling something under her breath, and after a few more shakes, she opened her eyes. Her brows were furrowed, her blinks slow. “Why are we here?”

“You said to take you home.” She must be more drunk than I’d originally thought. “Did you expect me to drive you to an abandoned shed in the middle of the woods?”

She shook her head, and I could taste my next teasing remark on my tongue, but then she said, “Not here.” I paused, at a loss as she leaned against the window and closed her eyes. “It makes me sad being here. It’s empty and quiet . . . It makes it hard to pretend I’m not alone.”

“I’m sure it’s different being here with your parents gone—”

“No.” She lifted her legs onto the seat, curling them close to her chest. “It’s always been that way.”

I let out a shaky breath, feeling like I’d been sucker punched. I loved my home. I was grateful to have a roof over my head, especially one Dad had given meand my brothers. But with them gone, and with only me to fill the house, it reminded me of what was missing. What I would never have. “Yeah,” I agreed quietly. “I know what you mean. My house feels something like that too.”

“Can I stay with you?” Her voice was almost shy. “Not with you, but at your house. I can take the couch, or the floor. Even the basement—”

“How about you decide when we get there?” I chuckled, already shifting my truck into reverse. “I’ve got a feeling you’re going to spend most of your night in the bathroom, and I’d rather you do it at my place. Knowing you, you’d choke on your vomit, and as much as I like the idea of your ghost haunting me, I like the idea of holding your hair all night long more.”

She smiled to herself, nuzzling deeper into the seat. I pulled out of her drive and was halfway down the road, deep in my thoughts, when she sat up. “Wait!”

I slammed on the brakes and put out my arm, catching Indy as she slid forward in her seat. Her heart pounded beneath my palm, though it had nothing on how quickly mine raced. I shifted in my seat to face her. “We already decided this: you’re coming home with me, Indy.”

“Genny’s at my parents’ house.”

I raised a brow. “She’s a cat. She’ll be fine until the morning.”

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