Page 47 of Hounded: Ashes to Ashes

He meant it as a statement, but there was uncertainty in his tone.

How could I tell him it was too good? Too hard to accept when everything felt so fragile, so tenuous. I would have grieved enough to lose a man who barely knew me. But this was the sum of him, the totality of us, and seeing that erased…

I glanced over at him. “You really remember everything?”

He frowned, and the sun created shadows like valleys on his face. “I think so,” he said, then abruptly brightened. “Wanna quiz me?”

I shook my head. He’d said enough on my first night home to remove my doubt. Regaled me with tales of times even I had forgotten. Too many of my recollections had been blotted out by pain and loss. The times when Indy wasn’t there. The parts he omitted.

That wasn’t what I’d meant to ask, though, and I took a few more seconds to come out with an apter inquiry. “Are you mad at me?”

“For?”

“Everything.”

Indy tipped his chin back in an exaggerated nod. “I’ve been wanting to ask you the same thing.”

“I’m not mad at you, Doll,” I said.

He relaxed. I hadn’t realized how tense he was. His gaze dropped to our clasped hands and his thumb stroking back and forth, back and forth.

“I’m kind of mad,” he murmured, then fixed me with an accusatory squint. “Why didn’t you talk to me? Or write me notes? Even a smiley face would’ve been nice. Or a frowny one.”

I grimaced as he continued, growing more agitated with every word.

“You iced me out, Loren,” he insisted. “It hurt. I thought I’d done something wrong.”

“You didn’t.”

“Thenwhy?”

My hound whined. I’d heard that sound so much in the past weeks it had rubbed a raw spot in my brain.

I pulled my hand loose and drew my legs up again, wanting to shrink. Folding my arms on my knees, I rested my head on top of those and stared at the distant hills.

“I love you,” I murmured.

Indy hesitated, then replied, “That’s not a reason.”

“It is.”

In my peripheral, Indy faced me, then away. “You shouldn’t keep things from me if you love me.”

I bucked upright. “Don’t say ‘if.’ You know I do. And I didn’t mean to keep anything from you. I’m just… I’m afraid.”

We’d come full circle, returned to the first and simplest answer.

The hum of a phone vibrating sent a spike of panic through my heart. Fortunately, logical thought came right after. It wasn’t mine. My cell had been lost in the wreck, and good riddance. It wasn’t Moira. She was in Heaven, which was frankly absurd.

I glanced at Indy’s hip pocket as he cupped his hand over it.

“Who is it?” I asked.

“Does it matter?”

I nodded.

Indy frowned, then pulled the cell out and checked the caller ID.

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