Lovely Darkness (Creeping Beautiful)

And we forget.

We forget everything.

Even though I love it when Nathan St. James takes his time and is careful with me, I love it even better when he’s not.

CHAPTER TWLEVE - NICK

I want to rush Wendy away from Indie. I want to pack her up in my truck, get back on the road, leave this place—and our place in it—behind, and never look back.

If I had one wish, that would be it.

I don’t want to do this anymore. I just want a new life. I’d give up all the money, all the power, all the things that make this world more comfortable if I could just fix this woman’s mind and not constantly worry about what happens next.

Adam is afraid Indie will kill him. I don’t blame him. She’s already tried—twice.

But I’m not afraid Wendy will kill me.

I’m afraid Wendy will kill herself.

I’m afraid that once the walls come down and she is able to think clearly—to understand what she is and what she’s done—I’m afraid she will not be able to live with that.

I’m so afraid of losing her like this, it physically hurts.

But I’m so used to the pain now, I ignore it. I push it away. I rally and smile down at Wendy. “You have to be hungry.”

“I am. What’d you make?”

“I didn’t make anything. McKay made pancakes though. I was gonna feed you those, but then you disappeared with your new best friends.”

“They are pretty great, aren’t they?”

“Pancakes?”

“No.” She laughs. “Indie and Nate. She’s bossy, and he’s too quiet, but seeing her again—it’s made me realize that I missed her. You don’t like her, do you?”

I’m just about to blurt out that I can’t trust someone who tried to kill the people who loved and cared for her since she was small, but stop myself just in time.

Wendy killed Chek.

Eventually, this truth will come out and I do not want to say anything now, or ever, that will make her doubt my commitment to her.

No. My love for her.

Maybe Wendy wasn’t the girl I dreamed up—if I dreamed of a girl at all, that is. I never pictured myself with a Company assassin. But she’s the girl I got. And she’s been my best friend—my only friend—for a lot of years now.

I don’t know what life looks like without Wendy.

I don’t want to know what life looks like without Wendy.

“I like her just fine, Wen. She’s a nice girl.”

Wendy snorts. “Ha. That’s funny. ‘Nice’ is not even in the top thousand words I’d ever use to describe Indie Anna Accorsi.”

I laugh too. “I’m being polite.” Then I hold the screen door open for her to prove it.

Wendy shoots me a grin. A real grin, too. Because it’s a little bit sad.

We walk into the kitchen and find the plate of soggy pancakes. Wendy isn’t a complicated girl. She really isn’t. If I hand her one of these pancakes, she will eat it. And she will be fine with it.

But I’m not feeding her cold, soggy pancakes.

I pick up the plate, lift the little glass dome, and let them slide into the trashcan.

“I thought we were eating those?” Wendy asks.

I just smile at her and open the fridge. “Eggs?”

“Sure.”

“Bacon?”

“Yum.”

“Toast?”

“Better be careful, Mr. Tate. I might come to expect a homecooked breakfast every morning.”

I place the eggs, bacon, and butter on the granite countertop next to the industrial stainless-steel stove and turn back to Wendy. “Once we leave here, Mrs. Tate, we will spend the rest of our lives waking up in the same bed together and I will be feeding you a homecooked breakfast every single morning.”

She sighs, then slips her ass onto one of the counter stools. “Eggs and bacon with you every morning is like a dream come true.”

It really is.

Funny. Because it’s such a simple thing. But our lives have never been simple. Simple things, to us, are the ultimate prize. A life where we’re not wondering about killing, death, clones, and crazy conspiracy theories about eternal life. A quiet morning. An uneventful night. Days, and months, and maybe—if we’re really lucky—whole years of just existing in this world instead of directing its path forward.

But we’re not there yet. Close. Very close, but just not there yet. And there are gaps in Wendy’s whereabouts this morning.

This is unacceptable at this stage in the game.

“So tell me. What did you, Indie and Nate do while I was in here planning your perfect breakfast?”

“We went to the woods. They showed me their tree house. Then we just came back and lounged around on that swing.”

“What’d you guys talk about? Did you catch up?”

Wendy pauses to think. She’s never been much of a liar. She lies on the job when she has to. But I never caught her lying to Chek. And if she tells me a lie it’s a little one meant to spare feelings.