Page 3 of Pretty Nightmare

I’m not convinced. I’m just not. I don’t know what another life looks like—I just have the one to compare things to—but not all people are like us. I do know that.

“Hell-looow!”

I look up and see Maggie standing in front of me with her hands on her hips. Her long, blonde hair is still damp from the bubble bath she took in my old tub just a little while earlier. She’s wearing pink bed shorts and a matching tank top. She smells like bubble gum. Kinda looks like it too.

“What?” I ask.

“I was calling your name, Indie. I said it like six times.”

“Sorry, I was thinking. Are you ready for bed? Do you want a story tonight?”

She bounces on the mattress past me and then slips under the covers, pulling them up to her chin. It’s summer, and it’s hot out tonight, but the AC in this room always did work too well. And we keep this house a nice cool sixty-eight degrees almost year-round. “No story tonight. I have things to think about and I don’t want to be distracted.”

I scrunch up my nose at her. She’s forever saying weird shit like this, like she has secret plans going on inside that head of hers. “What things?”

“What I’m gonna do tomorrow, of course.”

“What are you gonna do tomorrow? I can’t imagine it’s any different than what you did today.”

She tsks her tongue at me, not liking my statement. “It’s Saturday. It’s the weekend.”

“Hmm.” I want to say, So? Because again, it’s not that she’s gonna do anything different. She has no Nathan to make her days special. That really bothers me. “So what are your plans?”

“I’m gonna learn something new. That’s always the plan.”

“Wouldn’t a book help you with that?”

“Your books are stories, Indie. I like the factual books. But before you offer to read me a factual book, just… no thanks. I can do it myself.”

She can do it herself. Yes. She can.

I smile at her, kiss her on the head, and then get up and walk over to the door. “Good night, Mags. I love you.”

“Night, Mama. I love you too.”

I flick the light off and close her door, then stand there in the hallway as I listen to the sounds of Old Home.

I’m sleeping with Adam tonight. They won’t let me sleep alone because Carter might try to steal me away. We put bars up on Maggie’s window the day after that card came. It’s got a fire latch or whatever they call it so Maggie can climb out in an emergency. But if she uses it, an alarm will sound on the new security system we now have.

I laugh thinking about all that because Adam was like, “Why the fuck didn’t you put bars on this window fourteen years ago, McKay?”

And I knew what he was saying. If my window had bars on it, then a lot of things that happened would not ever have happened.

Including Maggie. Maybe.

If she is Nathan’s, then yeah. That would’ve put an end to Maggie. But if she’s not, well. I’m not sure where Carter got a hold of me so we could have sex in the first place, but I’m fairly certain I didn’t crawl out my bedroom window to see him.

Adam probably thought this through after his initial outburst and came to the same conclusion.

The stairs squeak and Donovan appears at the end of the hallway. He stops in front of his bedroom door when he sees me. “What’s up? Maggie go to bed OK?”

I nod and walk towards him. “Yup. She’s in there planning her day tomorrow.”

Donovan smiles at me, nods. “OK. So why are you just standing here?”

I huff out a breath that lifts the hair up around my eyes. And when it settles back down I say, “I need a favor.”

“What kind of favor?”