I walk up next to him and stand there, taking in the view. Which is Indie, Nathan, and Wendy all lying together on the pavilion swing like they are still kids.
“When she tried to kill me,” I say, “it was because I caught her kissing him.”
Nick looks at me.
“I tried to beat the fuck out of him,” I add by way of explanation.
“Hmm. I can’t say I’d have done it different. She was what, sixteen?”
“Nearly. Who told you about it?”
Nick shrugs. “Everyone, I guess. They were all talking about it in the safehouses.”
“The assassins?”
Nick nods.
“So they knew you were alive, but none of them ever thought to mention it to me?”
“Not all of them, obviously. Not until recently.” He shrugs again. Then he looks at me. “But the ones who knew… I guess they were hedging their bets, right? Who’s in charge? Me? Or you?”
“Do you wanna be in charge?”
Nick Tate guffaws. “Fuck no. I’m not the one in charge. You asked me a question, I answered it. That’s all.”
We go back to watching the scene out in the pavilion. “I love Wendy too. I’m not sure what to make of what you told me last night, but I guess it’s none of my business.”
Nick is silent for a little bit. Out on the swing, everyone is laughing. Nathan gets up, pushes the swing, and then jumps back on, lying between Indie and Wendy like that’s where he belongs.
“So did you forgive him?”
“Who?” I ask.
“Nathan.”
“Oh.” I sigh, thinking back on that day. “No. Not really. I hated that little fuck. Like… I don’t even know why, because he was just a little boy when I met him. But I think I knew. I knew Indie was his. And she was. She knew him first. They were in the hunt together.”
“I heard about that too,” Nick says.
“Nathan got out. His grandfather stole him and brought him to the house across the lake.”
Both of us look across the lake. Of course, there is no house over there. Just the beginnings of one because McKay tore it down after Indie tried to poison us.
Nick turns his body so he’s looking at me. “Does she scare you?”
He doesn’t say Indie. But he doesn’t need to. “Not much these days.”
Nick chuckles. “That’s not exactly a no.”
“No. It’s not. But I have precautions in place now. I didn’t before. Does Wendy scare you?”
“No.” Nick says this without hesitation. “I don’t know Indie. So whatever. But Wendy’s not like her. Not in ways that count, anyway.”
“I would have to agree.”
“But we’re very careful. I’m very careful around her. And she’s tired of it, Adam. She wants that, ya know?”
He nods his head to the scene on the swing again. Nathan is sitting up, holding on to the ropes, trying to rock the swing as far and wide as he can. Little squeals from the girls make their way past the antique glass in the windows. Nathan is not careful with anyone. He’s a fucking bull in a china shop. When he and Indie were little he took her out into the swamp and just like that, without any second thoughts whatsoever, taught her how to catch gators and snakes. I mean, fine. He can be fearless. But little boys should assume that little girls are more fragile than that.
And I don’t care what the feminists say. If you’re a boy, you should be careful with girls. Even if they don’t want you to be. That’s the gentlemanly way. And maybe I’m not much of a gentleman, but I am Southern. And you just don’t lead girls into swamps with no shoes and teach them to pick up snakes. Or take them on a boat without asking permission. Or pick up a chainsaw and chop down trees to make a path to your house. Or… lie to them to make them feel sane.
I’m kinda pissed off about that.
If he had just come and told us that Indie was losing her mind we could’ve done something.
Something more. Something else.
And I hate that I have to feel guilty about this.
This is my problem with Nathan St. James.
He’s a fuckin’ secret-keeper.
And fine, aren’t we all?
But we’re on the same team and he’s just… not.
I suddenly remember that Nick and I are having a conversation. “So that’s why you’re here? You want to talk to Carter? You want to what, team up with him and go poking around in her mind? Erase things?”
Nick lets out another long sigh. “I don’t even fucking know why I’m here, to tell you the truth. She thinks there’s a cure. She’s convinced, Adam. And Donovan was an excuse. But then your girl went and shot him up with a psychotropic and…” He lets out a tired breath. “Here we are. Does Indie ever talk about a cure?”