Page 93 of Impossible

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not. The best thing they gave me was my freedom.”

“I used to think the same thing.” Indie chews on her lip some more.

“Not anymore?” I ask.

Her eyes are still on the page in front of her. “I don’t know,” she says. “People thought I belonged to them, but I belonged to me. Now I belong to the Complex.”

“Not a fan?” I ask.

“Never needed a permission slip to have friends before.” She shrugs as we pull into the driveway. She has a point.

27

Illuminating

Indigo

“Youlivehere?“ I ask dumbly as Joshua pulls up to the mansion.

“Yes,” he laughs. “It’s a bit flashy for my taste, but it’s been in Midas Pack for generations.”

It’s a massive colonial manor house, with white pillars framing the cherry-red front door. The white walls stand tall, with windows jutting out of the eaves.

“Wow. It’s… large.”

“You strike me as more of a cozy house in the woods type of girl.” Joshua parks, and before I have a chance to answer he’s out and around the front, opening my door for me and helping me fumble my way out.

“I do love cozy, though now I wonder if that’s just the omega in me,” I say.

The front door opens, and Risk bursts from inside like he was loaded in a slingshot.

“Indie!” he cries. He doesn’t bother with the logistics of crutches. He wraps his arms around my waist and lifts me into the air, spinning me around in a vice-grip hug. The crutches clatter to the ground and for a moment I’m afraid, but then his laughter infects me and I feel my own bubbling up my throat. I let it loose, liking the way it sounds as he sets me down and I get to look at him for real. He is cinnamon eyes and reddish-hued waves and a septum piercing over blinding white teeth, tawny skin and boyish smile, hands still on my waist, holding me steady as Joshua picks the crutches up.

“Hello, Indigo.” Hollis stands on the front step. “Risk, let her go, she didn’t ask to be picked up.”

“It’s ok,” I say. I like the warmth of Risk’s palms on my waist far too much.

Hollis is wearing a black v-neck, stretched taut over his muscles in drool-worthy definition. His jeans are fancy too. He looks like he’s ready for a photoshoot. Leon lurks behind him, wearing his usual white thermal shirt and fatigues. I wave at him and he waves back. I wish he’d come hug me.

“Knife time?” Risk doesn’t let me go, even once Joshua has handed me back my crutches.

“Sure,” I laugh, unable to stop myself. “Knife time.”

“Are you sure you don’t want a tour?” Joshua asks.

“I’ll give her one.” Risk turns his body protectively, shielding me from the rest of his pack.

Before I can speak, he’s lifted me again, and I hear Joshua groan as the crutches clatter back to the asphalt.

“Risk!” Hollis barks, but Risk’s already slinging me onto his back like I weigh nothing. Then he’s charging forward, arms hooked under my knees to keep me from slipping down.

We blow by Leon and Hollis and I barely have time to hear Leon warn, “mind her knee!” before we’re bounding up a flight of stairs.

“You’re a horrible guide,” I grumble, but I’m smiling.

“House doesn’t matter,” Risk grunts.

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