ADAM
By the time that job was over I
realized something.
I loved her.
I guess that’s what happens when you get used to something and then
someone tries to take it away from you.
Because our trip home from Pensacola was two days later than planned and
Indie Anna didn’t smile a single second of that ride.
She didn’t cry, either. But I could tell she wanted to.
And I did exactly what McKay told me to do if things went sideways. I did
not yell. Not once. I just said, “It’s fine, Indie. It’s gonna be fine,” in the
most soothing voice I could manage as I watched the Company doctor restrain her
to the bed and fix her up.
And the game we played on the drive home was a new one called Let’s
Pretend That Didn’t Happen.
Knowing what I do now, I probably wouldn’t have played that game with
her.
I probably would’ve done a lot of things differently if I had known how
good she’d get at pretending shit didn’t happen.
But hindsight can kiss my ass. You can’t change the past.
Indie Anna Accorsi is a beautiful little mess. She is a lovely little
bundle of blonde hair and blue-eyed darkness. And even though I should have all
kinds of regrets about how she came to be mine and how we came to be hers, I
would absolutely do it all again.
Knowing her now, I wouldn’t change a thing.
Because if all those terrible things hadn’t happened, she would belong to
him right now. She would be living in
that little brick house with Nathan St. James.
She would be whole, and normal, and maybe even happier.
And my heart would be shattered into tiny shards. Millions of bitty
pieces.
So yeah.
I’m a selfish piece of shit.
But I want what I want.
That’s the only way I can explain it.
Maybe she didn’t become mine the day of the auction, but the day that
asshole triggered her without my permission, she did.
She is.
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