Page 93 of Hounded

I knew better.

That thought resonated with every beat of my heart. I was digging myself a second grave, committing sins that were unforgivable even in Hell. I would be punished for running away, for refusing my responsibilities, but I couldn’t lie there and let my mistress take what little I had left to give.

Across the room, Moira opened the door to the unexpected guest. I hoped she didn’t see as I swiped my finger hastily across the brocade wallpaper, cutting a gap I slipped through without a backward glance.

33

Loren

After rescuing my truckfrom the LaGuardia airport parking garage, I raided the plastic totes stacked in the bed for a replacement shirt. It was too warm to need the waffle knit thermal I settled on, but I felt exposed without it. The long day and longer night wore on me along with the adrenaline wearing off after I fled Moira’s room.

I patted my pocket in a check for my cellphone, fully expecting a call or barrage of spiteful texts, before remembering it was at Indy’s trailer.

That came as some relief because I would get no rest with a phone ticking off threats like seconds on a bomb’s countdown clock. Unless I was willing to go back and satisfy my mistress’s desires, detonation was inevitable. But I couldn’t. It was too much to hope for never, but I would settle for not now.

I’d calmed by the time I wheeled into the parking lot of Trailer Trove. The Airstream sat several dozen yards away, quiet and dark. I knew that Whitney was on the hunt. He’d already encroached on mine and Indy’scorner of the world. Our encounter during the driving lesson had been fleeting, but alarmingly close. I hadn’t seen him since, but I didn’t expect him to move on with his quarry so firmly in his sights.

My thoughts circled a drain, rapidly emptying while more rushed in. Feelings of Indy’s hands on me, familiar yet foreign, then of Moira stripping me of my clothes and dignity on the floor between her feet… The contrast was dizzying enough to stir me to sickness.

Killing the truck’s engine, I threw my keys into the floorboard and then curled up on the bench seat. I’d spent three months trying and failing to find a comfortable position, and I didn’t have high hopes for tonight. I was ready to give up and move to the uncovered bed for the sole purpose of stretching my legs but, before I could exit the cab, exhaustion snuck up on me.

The next time I thought anything, it was noon the next day.

The sun was fully in my face, burning so brightly it was a wonder I’d been able to sleep as long as I had. I sat up and groaned at the ache in my neck as I fumbled for the driver’s door handle and shoved it open. I pushed out, letting my head loll off the edge of the seat. My hound roused, as well. Together, we took in the scents of freshly cut grass, grit from the gravel lot, and the wafting aroma of hot dogs on a charcoal grill.

I peered across the trailer park, observing the world upside down. The Airstream remained a comforting constant, bright as a beacon. Indy would be awake by now and, while my phone was locked, I didn’t want himstumbling upon it and seeing the disciplinary measures Moira had doubtless spent the night describing to me.

Skinned alive came to mind. Leashed to her bed like a piece of living furniture. Or she could test her theory about beheading me. I had a feeling it would surprise everyone exactly how much torment I could endure.

My stomach grumbled, followed by a hunger pang that stabbed into my gut. As a dead thing, I didn’t need to eat, sleep, piss, or breathe, but those impulses still came, and I was more comfortable when I indulged them. After I got my phone, I would check the convenience store’s unfailingly disappointing selection of food, then try to find a better place to take a nap. Despite having just woken, I was tired, but mine was not the kind of exhaustion that could be fixed with sleep.

I shifted my body until I could swing my legs around and drop onto the ground outside. Scooping my keys off the rubber floormat, I pocketed them before starting toward Indy’s trailer. Long before I got there, a flash of color caught my eye. A rainbow flag hung from the sidearm of the Airstream’s overhead awning. I hadn’t seen it last night, so Indy must have hung it today.

Entering the shade before the trailer’s front door, I side-eyed the flag as it flapped and fluttered. I knocked, then glanced over both shoulders, checking to see who else might be out to take notice of the public statement about my private life.

I saw no one before the door swung open outward, blowing air across my face as it passed dangerously close.

Indy stood above me, wearing white pants and a mesh shirt that showed the waistband of a G-stringarcing over his hips. My eyes traced the thin strap before I turned my attention to the flag whipping in the breeze.

“Subtle.” I tipped my head toward it.

Indy snorted and braced his arms across his chest. “It’s called pride for a reason,” he snapped.

Of course, he was mad. After enduring weeks of my mixed signals and a promising night cut short, he was entitled to anger. I would endure it, but only for as long as it took to get what I came for.

“I left my phone here,” I said.

Indy pulled the device from his back pocket. “This thing?” He held it out, baiting me.

I nodded. “May I have it?”

His features sharpened. “MayIhave an explanation?”

“For what?”

He swung the cell out of reach and balled his other fist on his hip. “For you. Yourself. Myself. Explain.”

The little stomp of his foot might have amused me if I’d been in any other mood than foul. Instead, I sighed. “What are you talking about, Indy?”

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