8. Indy
EIGHT
INDY
The ringing jerks me out of sleep. For a second I’m so disoriented that I have no idea where I am, and my heart pounds so harshly that it feels uncomfortable.
The noise starts up again, my phone vibrating on the nightstand.
I rub my face and squint at the alarm clock. It’s almost midnight.
I swear under my breath and reach for the phone, knocking a textbook on the floor in the process.
“Hello?” My voice is raspy from sleep and speaking makes me yawn.
“Go!” My sister’s exuberant voice is so loud in my ear that I wince and pull the phone a few inches away.
I flop back down on the bed with a groan.
“I’m sleeping, Dia.”
She giggles. “Do you remember when you said I could call you if I’m in trouble? Any time? Anywhere? And I wouldn’t get in trouble?”
“That was Mom.”
“I can’t call Mom. I’ll get in trouble.”
“I thought you said you were already in trouble,” I point out.
“Which is why I need your help. And before you say no, remember that I’m your only sister. Twin sister. These bonds are for life, you know.”
“Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of.”
“Is he being a jerk about this? Is he? Let me talk to him.” Bridge’s voice rings out from somewhere a bit farther away, and the phone clearly changes hands because a second later Bridge comes through loud and clear.
“Listen up, buddy,” she says, “you better get your ass out of bed right this second or—”
There’s a shuffling and a clank and then a few beats of silence before it’s Dia again.
“We—Bridge and I—might be a bit stranded.”
I sit up with a yawn. “Might be?”
“Might be. Are. Same thing,” she says flippantly.
“What happened?” I ask.
“We went to Jacob’s parents’ lake house with some people, and Jake went to pee in the woods and lost his car keys. We’ve looked everywhere, so now we either stay here for the night or find a ride.”
“Sweet dreams,” I say, but I roll myself off the bed anyway.
“Don’t be an ass,” Bridge shouts into the phone. “Just find a damn car. I’m sleeeepy.”
I mutter under my breath while I pull on a pair of sweats and a Henley. I quietly open the door and make my way to India’s room.
“Where are the keys?” I ask when I can’t find them anywhere.
“Yeah,” Dia says, and her tone immediately puts me on alert. “About that…”
I stop my search and straighten my back. “Did you also go to pee and lose them?”
“No, I know where they are.”
I wait for her to point me in the right direction. She doesn’t.
“Well?” I eventually ask.
“They’re in my bag.”
It’s way too late for me to have any patience for a treasure hunt. “Where’s the bag?”
“Currently? Right here with me.”
I sigh and drag my hand through my hair. “Dia…”
“The car is in Annapolis parked on Bridge’s driveway. Not like the keys would be of any use to you.”
I lean my ass against her dresser. “Then how exactly do you figure I pick you up? Walk to Jacob’s and give you two a piggyback ride? I’ll see you in about fifteen hours.”
“We have more cars.” Dia says it like the solution is obvious.
“Where? Because Mom’s not back from New York yet, so her car is in the airport parking lot, and Dad’s car is in the shop.”
“Yes,” she says. “But…”
I go very still when the unspoken part catches up to me.
“No,” I say slowly. “No. Come on, Dia. No.”
“Pleeeease. Pretty, pretty please. You’re our only hope, and you know it. I have to be at school tomorrow. I’ll get another detention if I skip again, and you know Mom said she and Dad won’t pay for the summer acting classes in LA if I get detention again.”
My shoulders slump, and I close my eyes. Maybe this is just a bad dream? I pinch myself just in case.
But no. I’m still here.
I tap my fist against my forehead and blow out a breath.
“Go?” India says.
“Yeah.” I sigh and rub my forehead with the tips of my fingers. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
She squeals. “You’re the bestest brother ever!”
And she hangs up, leaving me to face the least preferable scenario alone.
So that’s nice.
It takes me another few minutes to push myself off the dresser and gingerly make my way to Nick’s door. I lift my hand and blow out a quick breath before I shake my head and rap my knuckles against the door twice in quick succession.
Well, I tried.
Clearly, he’s asleep and—
The door opens right as I’m about to turn away. I bite back a curse and force a smile on my face.
He frowns and zeroes in on my lips. “Are you in pain or something?”
The smile turns into a grimace, and considering it was already bordering on one it’s not much of a change. “Yes. Appendicitis. Can you please operate?”
He quirks a brow.
I take a deep breath and fix the smile back on. “I need to borrow your car.”
He lets out a snort of laughter. “No,” he says flatly.
I have a brief fantasy about wrapping my hands around his neck and squeezing as hard as I can.
Indy! I can’t breathe, he would say.
And I would smile and say, Yeah. Isn’t it great?
All the unbearable tension between us has started to manifest itself through vivid dreams of violence lately.
Another deep breath. “Dia and Bridge need a ride. You’re the only one with a car in this house right now, so…” I hold my arms out and shrug. I get zero reaction. I sigh. “I promise I’ll get the car back to you as good as new. I wouldn’t ask if I had any other options. I don’t. You’re it.”
A couple of seconds pass in silence. His gaze stays on me, and I can’t seem to move. Or speak.
“What’s in it for me?” His voice is sleep rough.
Sexy.
The unbidden thought makes my shoulders tense. I look away, angry at myself and impatient in equal measure. “I don’t know. Anything. Whatever you want.”
He shuts the door in my face. My mouth drops open for a moment before I snap it shut and my jaw clenches.
I raise both middle fingers and aim them at the door before I stomp downstairs.
I glance out the living room windows. The lights are off in the pool house where Dad’s studio is.
He’s been spending whole days and nights there recently, which means he’s been inspired, so now he’s finally asleep after most likely having been up for a minimum of two days.
Waking him up now would take an army. Or hard drugs. I have neither.
Instead, I head to Mom’s study. I pull the drawers open one after another until I find the emergency credit card.
I tap it against my palm. Dia didn’t want to get in trouble with Mom, and an unexpected charge for an Uber to fuck knows where is sure to guarantee just that, but she’s also good enough that there’s a fifty percent chance she manages to somehow talk herself out of that sticky situation with some creative lying.
Whatever. It’ll be her problem once that moment comes.
And it’s not like I have a lot of options here.
I grab the card, pull out my phone, and head to the front door. My eyes are on my phone while I walk, and I slam right into Nick as a result.
My phone and the credit card fly out of my hands and clatter on the floor.
An “Oof” escapes Nick.
We’re too close. He’s too much. Of everything. Too tall. Too warm. Too handsome.
“You could try looking where you’re going,” he says.
Too much of a dick.
“You could try not jump-scaring people like a horror movie extra,” I counter.
He picks up my phone and the credit card and weighs them in his hand.
I hold my hand out. “Give them back.”
He ignores me.
“What’s the plan?” he asks with a tone that suggests that no matter what I’ve thought of, he’ll judge it as dumb.
I send him a calculating look. “I’m still picking between options. There’s stabbing you. Shooting you. Strangling you. Drowning you. Smothering you with a pillow… Oh. You mean about Dia. My bad.”
“It’s nice of you to waste my time after begging for help,” he says.
He’s changed into a pair of sweats and a T-shirt, and he’s thrown a flannel shirt over it, and I can’t really rationalize the way my stomach jumps when I look at him, even though it makes me loathe myself.
It’s like discovering a strange fetish you have and being simultaneously disgusted and turned on by it.
My kink, turns out, is Nicholas Hayes. I’ve stopped trying to make sense of it.
The best I can do is ignore it and make damn sure I hide it from him.
He knows anyway, but the pretense that he doesn’t allows some of my pride to stay intact.
“Well?” he says with an exasperated sigh. “Are we going or not?”
I swallow down everything I want to say and nod instead.
We go outside and get into his car, and I type the address into my phone GPS. We drive in silence that’s only broken by the occasional direction by the GPS lady until we’re on the highway.
Eventually I suck it up and get over myself. “Thank you. I appreciate the help.”
He throws a look my way. “Exactly how painful was it to say that?”
I consider it for a bit. “I would’ve rather had the appendectomy without anesthesia if there had been a choice.”
“While you’re already suffering, throw in an apology for waking me up in the middle of the night.”
“Why?” I wave at the darkness outside the windows. “I thought Satan’s minions roamed at night, so this should be right up your alley.”
“You’re confusing them with vampires.”
“Not going to argue since you probably know the rules better. What with all the personal experience.”
There’s a glimmer of amusement in his eyes, but he snuffs it out almost as soon as it appears.
“Besides,” I say. “I only asked to borrow the car. You volunteered as my chauffeur all on your own.”
“I don’t know if volunteer is the word I’d use. And you’re not driving my car. Nobody’s driving my car but me.”
“What’s up with that?” I squint at his profile. “It’s just a car.”
“Spoken like a true privileged asshole.”
I roll my eyes, lean my head against the glass, and yawn. “I’m leaning toward poisoning you. And just so there’s no misunderstanding, I don’t resist the urge because I’m morally opposed to it, it’s because I’m aware I’d be the prime suspect, and I don’t think jail will agree with me.”
“I don’t know; you’re pretty enough, so you might be a hit in prison.”
“Are you urging me to go for it?”