Page 30 of Indigo

eighteen

Hank

The impossibility of the scene in front of me has me stumbling on my feet. For a moment, I can’t see Indigo. All I see is Cassidy hunched over something at the edge of the bed. As the door softly closes behind me and Nash, Cassidy turns and reveals Indigo on his lap.

“What is happening?”

Cassidy brings her closer to his chest before letting go. “She wants to talk to us.”

Indigo nods and stands. I try to hold myself back, but seeing her eyes brimming with tears makes me want to run to her. I’ve seen a lot from her—anger, doubt, and fear—but never sadness. It breaks my fucking heart. I step close enough that she has to crane her neck to keep looking at me. My trembling hands trace the delicate path of her jaw.

“Are you okay?” The moment those words are out, I realize my mistake. She hasn’t been good for a while now. I shake my head and try again. “Why are you crying?”

Her mouth curves slightly with a smile. I’ve waited a long time to be a recipient of a smile from her, but this one doesn’t sit well with me. It doesn’t reach her eyes, and it’s given too easily. I frown. My hand closes firmly on the back of her neck as I search for answers in her gaze before it’s out of her mouth.

Indigo sighs, melting to my touch. Her eyes close, and for a moment, I think she’s going to go on her tiptoes and try to kiss me. I can’t imagine anything better than to be kissed by her, but my dreams fall into reality when she opens her eyes and removes my hand from her face.

“If you want me to make sense, I need you to stop touching me.”

“Sorry.” I quickly step away.

“What do you want to say to us?” Nash clears his throat, giving me a moment to come back to myself. I turn around, unable to look at her and stuff the offending hands into my pocket.

Indigo clears her throat. “I think we’ve finally reached a point where it’s obvious we can’t keep going.”

“Keep going?” Nash asks carefully.

“I want you to knot me.”

Her words have me turning back to them, confusion and hope colliding in my chest, creating havoc. Confused, my eyes search for Cassidy. He was here with her and must know what this is about, but he’s still sitting on the bed, eyes trained down on the cream carpet, slightly shaking his head as if he knows this is madness.

“You made us promise—” Nash starts, but Indigo interrupts him.

“And that’s why I wanted to be sure I was feeling fully like myself before asking.”

“Are you feeling like yourself?” I arch my eyebrows. “This doesn’t sound like you.”

Indigo is a fighter, and right now, she’s giving up the fight. You can’t convince me this is her.

“I don’t want this suffering anymore. My body is giving up. With every flare, I feel like I lose myself a little more, and—”

“No.”

The short answer comes from Nash. It’s so hard, so cold and definite we all reel back as if he collectively slapped us. Even Cassidy looks away from the carpet. It’s not just the negative that confuses me, but the way he spat it, as if it’s the worst thing Indigo could have asked of him.

“Nash, listen—”

She can’t even finish the sentence before he’s on her. “We promised, and I will make sure to carry through with the promise.”

“To what point? Look at us! This is torture for all of us! I’m not well, and fuck, neither are you.”

“We can fight,” he grits out.

“Can we? Not only how long can we hold on, but what is the endgame? Can we undo a scent-match?”

Christ.My insides turn into ice, and fear like nothing else takes control. Rationally, I know we can’t undo a scent-match, but the mere suggestion has me trembling. I can’t lose her. I prefer suffering the rest of my days because she refuses to lie with us than undoing our connection.

“We can’t do that. I’m sorry,” Nash replies.