Page 70 of Hounded: Ashes to Ashes

“Baby, what’s wrong?” His words slurred, and his grip on me loosened as he dipped toward unconsciousness.

I shushed and tucked him in again, shielding him from the glower I gave Evander. My bitter glare said everything I didn’t. Couldn’t. Wouldn’t.

There was a reasonIhad been the answer to Jonathan’s wife’s prayers. The same reason I’d never asked the angel for help before now: I’d known better. Miracles weren’t given to people like me. Adulterers. Sodomites. Sinners.

As for Indy, maybe Heaven didn’t have enough grace for an addict with bubblegum hair who liked makeup and dresses and kissing other men.

He was broken.

We both were.

And there would be no fixing it.

Indy

Friday arrived,and little had changed. Loren never did pick back up on the Truth or Dare game, and he steered clear of our bed. I had spent too many nights like that after getting out of rehab. Tossing and turning in mental turmoil about all the things I didn’t know or understand. Now that I had the answers I’d been so desperately seeking, the whole thing pissed me off. It was punishment for sure, and Loren knew exactly what he was doing.

So, I wore lingerie, doused myself in perfume, and pranced around the trailer with my ass out like a dog in heat. I didn’t want sex per se, but I would let him rail me if that’s what it took to thaw the icy wall between us.

When solicitation didn’t work, I changed tactics. I answered the silence with noise. I blasted old country music and putRhinestoneon the TV. Then I found my commemorative DVD from the Saddle Studs show and played it on a loop.

I was so obnoxious I irritated even myself, but Loren didn’t crack. He managed to make our tiny trailer seem vast, bloated with tension and our opposing stubbornness. Sully was wrong. Hewasmad at me, but that was better than resigned.

As for the hellhound hunt, Nero and his witch, and Evander, little had changed there, either. So little that I didn’t worry about venturing to the community center and leaving a note on the fridge to let Loren know where I’d gone. Since I’d spent the past few days giving him hell on earth, he was probably grateful for a break.

I found parking a couple blocks away and checked the area for bloodthirsty hellhounds or stalker angels. The passing pedestrians appeared to be mundane, so I joined the stream of foot traffic headed toward the community center.

Being late was only fashionable at parties. At Anonymous meetings, it was tacky. If I was going to be tacky, though, at least I looked good doing it. In a pleated tennis dress and white trainers, it was little wonder I drew stares when I walked in and stopped by the refreshment table for a macadamia nut cookie and a cup of lemonade.

The moderator recited the minutes of the last meeting like we were a bunch of businessmen instead of jittery crackheads. I tuned him out while I guzzled my first serving of lemonade. Since the Styrofoam cups weren’t much bigger than shot glasses, my thirst was far from quenched. I was going for a refill when teddy bear Travis sidled up to me.

“Hey, Indy,” he greeted while stacking a napkin with a trio of assorted cookies.

I grunted and trained my attention on the lemonade pouring from the pitcher. I’d shut him down once already; maybe I’d been too kind. “I’m a taken man, Trav,” I said. “Spoken for. Committed.”

Travis blushed through his bearded cheeks. “I know. I just thought you might want someone to sit with. There’s an open chair next to mine.”

He gestured with his cookie-bearing hand to the back row. All five chairs were empty, and they were the only ones. Full house for free therapy tonight.

It might have been awkward to sit next to my not-so-secret admirer, but I didn’t really want to do this alone. So, I flashed a crooked smile and followed Travis to our seats.

With the minutes revisited and the Serenity Prayer recited, the moderator opened the floor for personal sharing time. I had yet to participate in that, and I didn’t intend to start tonight. My story was not one that could be doled out to a crowd of strangers who would think I was crazy. Or high. In the case of about half of the meetings I’d attended, they wouldn’t have been wrong.

No one else volunteered, and I didn’t trust the moderator not to start calling names, so I stuffed my mouth with cookie as an excuse for my silence and waited for the show to start.

“Anyone?” The moderator scanned over the crowd. “This is an open forum. We’re all here to show support. I promise you will be understood and accepted.”

Scuffling feet and clothes swishing against metal chairs answered him. I tipped my lemonade cup to my mouth, so I couldn’t see much of anything, but I heard footsteps entering from the hall, and the moderator issuing a canned greeting.

“Welcome. Sit anywhere; we’re just getting started.”

Since the only available chairs were next to Travis and me, I was not surprised when the stranger settled beside me. Iwassurprised—make that stunned—when I glanced over and saw that it wasn’t a stranger at all.

He faced forward, studiously fixed on the moderator pacing the front of the room and avoiding eye contact with me.

Loren.

Dark hair spilled over his shoulders in gorgeous, glossy waves. Olive skin blanketed his sharp nose and cheekbones andframed lips that were so, so soft. His clothes were soft, too. Touchable, and I wanted to be bundled up in him. I ached for it.

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