“We’re going to the house you sent me to,” Nate says. I’m glad that he’s not dwelling on his dead friends. I understand that some people get stuck on death in that way. But I’ve never found sadness to be very productive.
“Why would we do that? I thought you said they were gone?” Nick asks.
“They are gone. You’ll see,” Nathan says.
“But we’re going back anyway?”
“I think there are clues that need to be found.”
“What the fuck are you two up to?” Nick is pissed now.
“What do you mean?” I ask. Noticing that Nathan is staying out of it. “We’re not up to anything.”
“Lies,” Nick says. “You draged us out to Donovan’s office for what?”
“Clues,” I say. “And we found some. I mean, OK. They were worthless clues—”
Nick isn’t even listening to me. “We’re going back.” He pulls over on the highway and checks his side-view mirror for traffic, like he’s about to make a u-turn, but then Wendy puts a hand on his shoulder and he pauses. Turns in his seat to see her face.
“Keep going.” Wendy’s voice is soft and low. She looks at him like he is some kind of king.
And he loves her too. I can see it. He loves her a lot. Deeply. They didn’t get married because they had to. They got married because they wanted to.
But there is something very wrong between them. I just can’t put my finger on it.
“Why?” Nick asks. His voice is even softer than hers. “Whatever was going on at that house, we don’t need to see it.”
Wendy disagrees. “It’s gonna be OK. We already found that shit at Donovan’s office. Can this be much worse?”
Wait. What? “What does that mean?” I ask. Because we didn’t find anything at Donovan’s office. In fact… hmm. Now that I think about it, I don’t even know why I wanted to go there. It just felt like a compulsion.
But I lose track of this train of thought when Nick says, “All right.” Sighs. Loud. Then, without another word, he eases back out onto the highway and we continue in silence for a few miles.
But then he looks in the rear view, finds me watching him, and he says, without preamble, “Truth is something you seek.”
I have no clue what he’s talking about, but I don’t need specifics when it comes to men like Nick Tate. I hear the hunter in him. I can feel his mind spinning up a plan. But of course, that’s what he does.
Nick Tate isn’t a Zero.
He’s not an assassin, nor is he a cleaner.
Nick Tate is a controller.
He is in charge of things. And not the same way that Adam is in charge of things, either.
He’s in charge of things the way Carter was.
Nick Tate is just like those men on the island, now that I think about it. Just like them. Except he does his hunting in the real world and not tucked away on some island.
And we—girls like me—we run from him. Run the way we did that night in the hunt.
Suddenly Donovan’s voice is in my head. His stupid accent. His calm tone. “Indie. You didn’t run that night. You stood there and dared me to kill you. Remember that?” His accent fades away for the last part, turning into Carter’s.
I do remember that.
I was pissed. I was young, but I was pissed. I didn’t really know Nathan, but he was part of the reason I was pissed because he had a plan and a person was waiting for him where the river met the ocean and all I had was Donovan. Who promised to protect me, but Carter was the one who was stalking me, not Donovan. So that promise never did make much sense.
“I wasn’t gonna hurt you, Indie. I’m offended that you think I would. We’ve been friends forever. I’m always on your side.”
I don’t think that’s true, but there’s no point in arguing. Carter is always right, even when he’s wrong.
“Why are you doing this?”
“Doing what?”
“Going to see this house again. Why? They’re not going to tell you anything. They don’t have any answers. They are just questions, Indie. Stay in the truck. Let Nick take care of them. Forget about them.”
“Well. I might be living inside my own personal delusion right at this moment, but if Carter Couture wants me to ‘look this way’, I will mostly certainly ‘look that way’ instead.”
“So. Rebellious.”
“Yep. That’s me. The little rebel.”
“You’re going to find things, Indie. Upsetting things. Things you’d rather not know.”
“Yep. Probably.”
“Why put yourself through that? There’s no reason. You can live a long, happy life just the way things are. You and Nathan. That’s what you always wanted, right? And look, here he is. I brought him to you.”
I scoff. “You didn’t bring him. He came of his own accord.”