13. Indy

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Indy

"Trust me, not my type."

I t's not the first time I've heard it. But it was a whole new level of hurt when Derek said it. Not because I thought anything would happen between us. Even if he had been attracted to me, I don't date, and I don't have sex. I don't break those rules. Ever. For anyone. No one can get that close to me because I won't allow anyone to change their life for me. Hospitals, relapses, infusions, meds, down days, and there are times I have to bring out my cane or wheelchair. I won't be someone's obligation or burden. It's why I stopped living with Ash. My brother would have been content being my caregiver for the rest of his life, and while I love him, I need to be more independent while I still can.

Multiple Sclerosis isn't necessarily a fatal disease, and there isn't even a high chance I'll need to go into an assisted living facility, at least, not right now. Things can change, though. A relapse could be bad, and I could lose my independence. It's happened before. When I was diagnosed with MS, it was after I had lost the ability to walk. Mom and Ash had been trying to get me help for two years at that point. I'd been having terrible headaches, my arms and legs weren't working right, I was depressed, and all I wanted was to sleep. The doctors said it was depression, a pinched nerve, and even a cry for attention.

I was still a nurse at the children's hospital then and had a bad day on the floor. I couldn't think of how to check my vitals. I remember the doctor walking in and looking at me. He asked me if I was okay, and I started slurring my words. I thought I was having a stroke, and they immediately got to work on me. It was only a few hours before I couldn't move my legs. Ash came in and lost it on everyone, demanding they figure it out. After the MRI, they saw the lesions from the flare-up and were able to tentatively diagnose me. It took more time, more tests, andmore eliminating other problems before I was fully diagnosed. From the moment of the vitals check to being able to walk again fully took six months, and it was two months later that I had my MS tag.

Not my type.

Ugh, I hate how much his words affect me. I know why it does. I have this stupid massive crush on Derek. I never planned on making a move, but the fantasy was nice. Then he had to go and ruin it.

I wiggle into my ripped, skinny black jeans and slip my Hel's Ink high-neck crop top on. It's one of my favorite designs. Janie designed it. It's a beautiful woman with flowy hair and empty black sockets where her eyes should be. Tears run from the holes, and behind her is a dark demon whispering in her ear. It's so dark and twisted, and I adore it. I also relate to it, considering I have my own demon whispering to me most days.

Looking at myself in the mirror, I'm thankful for my membership in the itty-bitty titty committee because my hands can't button my jeans right now, let alone clasp together a bra. I reach for my mascara tube and frown as I try to open the tube and fail. Anger surges through me, something I'm trying not to feel, but it's here, and like the demon on my shirt, my darkness is laughing and whispering in my ear.

"Stop it," I whisper, squeezing my eyes shut. "Happy thoughts, Indy, happy. Be thankful." I whisper, shakingly. "I can talk, I can walk, my friends are happy,"

But not you…

My darkness whispers .

Poooor Indy, doomed to watch everyone else find their happily ever after while you play the eternally damned princess, locked away in a tower by your own doing.

"I got dressed today," I say through gritted teeth, trying to quiet him.

Did you, though? No bra, no makeup, oh, and you have to forgo your favorite boots for slip-ons. And you are going to have to ask someone to button your pants. But you're all alone. Forever alone, Indy.

"I have my amazing nephews, Wade and Howie."

But never will you be a mommy.

The voice taunts me in a sing-song voice, and I lose it. I scream as I grab my boot and throw it as hard as possible. It hits the mirror, causing it to shatter, and sharp pieces fall onto the ground and dresser. I jump as my door flies open, and I find a panting, wide-eyed Derek standing in my doorway.

"Are you alright?" He breathes, and I raise a brow.

"What are you doing here?" I snap as I stand up and walk toward him. "What do you want from me?" I spit out as my darkness continues to remind me that I'll never have anyone. I'm a burden, an obligation. I would be better off to everyone if I were–

"Hey!" I jolt in surprise at the crisp growl erupting out of Derek. "Darlin', you are way too small to have an attitude this big, so let's take it down a notch."

"And you're way too pretty to be such a crotchety asshole all the time, but here we are." His stone expression morphs into a mixture of shock and maybe amusement.

"You think I'm pretty?" His tone is amused, and it turns the volume down on my darkness for whatever reason.

"Well," I feel suddenly shy as a flush of heat creeps to my cheeks. "Yes." My voice holds a confidence I don't actually feel. "You are very pretty."

"Uhm, well, you're…" He rubs the back of his neck, and I watch his eyes flick behind me. "What happened?" He asks as he forces himself all the way in. I shut the door and look around at the mess of shattered glass, feeling suddenly too hot and heavy.

"I," my voice cracks, and goddamn it Indy, stop being this way! You are strong! "I had a moment. I'm fine now, and I'll pay for the damages."

"Well, it's not my hotel, so I'm not really concerned about the property damage." His eyes move up and down my body, and I feel goosebumps erupt over my body. "Are you alright?" My bottom lip quivers at the softness in his tone. I stare at him and slowly shake my head.

How are you?

Are you alright?

How do you feel?

How is your pain?

What color are you today?

The constant checking in on me, my constant smile and lies. It's all suddenly too much, too exhausting, and I can't do it anymore.

"No." I croak. "I-I can't button my pants, wear my boots, or put on my mascara." I whimper the last part as I hang my head. I hear glass falling and look to see Derek grabbing my boots and inspecting them for shards from the mirror. Once satisfied that they are free of any glass, he motions for me to sit on the bed while he sits on the chair by the desk before wheeling it over. I watch him lift my leg, remove my slip-on Converse, and pause.

"Do you have something against socks?" His question takes me by surprise, and I let out a laugh.

"They are slip-ons. Who wears socks with slip-ons?" I gesture to my bag, and he walks over and pulls out a sock ball.

"You'll ruin the elastic doing this." He states while slipping the socks on my feet before sliding my foot into the boot.

"Well, I guess I'll just have to suffer through ill-fitting socks then." I laugh while he expertly laces me up and checks to ensure it's not too tight before doing the same with my other foot.

"Stand," he grunts, and I do as he says, gasping when his warm hands slide to my waistband. I feel his knuckles graze my belly button, and I bite my bottom lip to stop the moan as liquid heat pools in my lower abdomen.

I hear the bite of the zipper and feel him button my jeans before his warmth is gone. Derek reaches over and grabs the tube of mascara off my bed. I eye him wearily as he sits on the bed and motions for me to follow.

"Here's the deal," he states as he twists the top off. "If you breathe this to a single soul, I'll have no choice but to kill you. And I'm gonna feel super shitty about doing it, but there will be no other alternative. I need to know that you understand this before I continue." There's no way he's going to do what I think he is.

"Okay," I say softly while sticking my pinky out. "I promise." He looks down at my hand as though I am offering him a rotten fish.

"A pinky promise?"

"Hey! Don't underestimate the power behind the pinky promise. I take them very seriously." I nudge his hand with mine. He finally relents and grips my pinky with his.

He moves his legs apart and motions with his hand. "Get as close to me as you can." I tentatively scoot between his legs as I put my legs on either side of his hips. "Perfect," he mutters. "Ash comes in now, and I'm a dead man for sure."

I can't help but chuckle. That is until he grips the side of my neck and uses his thumb to tilt my face up. My body comes alive in a way I'm not sure I've ever felt. No, I am sure I've never felt this kind of awakening. He's so gentle as he wiggles the wand into my lashes.

"Blink," his voice is soft and quiet, sending shivers up my body. He moves the wand to get my inner and outer corners before moving to the other eye. "Again," he says in the same tone. "Good girl." Oh no, I like that too much. He finishes the job before staring at my lashes, and I feel my heart flutter when the pad of his thumb brushes right under my eye.

Before I can stop myself, I lean in and press my lips to his cheek. His body goes ramrod straight before he pulls himself back.

"Indy," he breathes huskily, "What are you doing?" I watch as he untangles himself from me to stand up, and I'm so mortified I wish god would just smite me down here and now.

"I'm sorry," I whisper meekly before quickly standing up. "I just... Oh my god." My hand instinctively shoots up to cover my mouth as I grab my phone and hastily flee the room, desperately trying to escape the cringe-worthy situation. Turning back, I glimpse Derek still standing motionless, his eyes widened in shock and his mouth hanging open in disbelief. A million apologies race through my mind as I disappear around the corner, feeling both mortified and humiliated by my actions.

"I'm just saying," the pink-haired girl pops her gum in my face, and it takes everything I have not to grab it out of her mouth and throw it in the trash bin. "If you're gonna be a piercer, you need something besides, ya know, a tiny little nose ring." Taking a deep breath, I give her my most pleasant smile.

"As I've said three times before, I'm not the Hel's Ink piercer. Stevie will be back in a couple of moments. I'm watching the table until she returns." Stevie went to the bathroom fifteen minutes ago, and our booth is a madhouse. Janie and Ren are helping as much as they can, but the tattoo side needs their attention, and Ren has Howie as well, so I'm kind of on my own.

"Brooks!" I call out to get the attention of the large man. Despite Stevie declaring them mortal enemies, I have no problem with Brooks. He's hilarious and always helps me when I need it. Hell, I've even gotten him to come and play a giant for the kids at the hospital before, though I'll never let Stevie know. She would see it as the ultimate betrayal, probably much like she's going to see this.

"What's up?" He asks in his deep, authoritative tone while glaring at the people around my booth, looking for a threat.

I laugh. "No, no, they're fine. It's Stevie. She went to the bathroom about fifteen minutes ago and isn't answering her phone."

"She's probably constipated," he shrugs, and I snort a laugh.

"Please, can you go check on her?" I beg, and he groans reluctantly.

"Indy, she's gonna yell at me."

"Not if you're nice and don't call her peaches," I suggest, causing Brooks to give me a smirk.

"Now, why would I do a thing like that? Whenever I call her peaches, her cheeks go pink, and her mouth gets all twisted. I ain't giving that up." I stifle the chuckle. It's not a secret that Brooks has a crush on Stevie. I think it's a crush, anyway. It's weird, because every time he has had the opportunity to be a good guy and impress her, he ends up blowing it and looking like an asshole.

"Will you please go check on her?" I give him my biggest smile while clasping my hands together. Brooks rolls his eyes before grumbling and turning to walk toward the exit. I know how to smile to get what I need, even if I'm not anyone's type.

I glance over at the tattoo tables where the guys are. Atlas spots me and gives me an overly enthusiastic two-handed wave, and I smile, waving back before fans of his start asking for selfies. Fox is talking to a podcaster with Janie, and Ash is talking to some customers with Ren. I see Derek away from the table; he's on his phone, and though I can't hear what he's saying, I can tell he's angry by his stiff pacing and the way he moves his arm as he talks to whoever is on the other end of the phone.

"Hey! Bite-size!" I turn my gaze to the heavily pierced and tattooed man. He looks big, not as big as the guys in my circle, but big enough to intimidate me and make me wish Brooks would hurry back.

A nervous twisting in my stomach betrays my attempt at a pleasant greeting. "Hi!" I say, trying to hide the unease in my voice. "What can I do for you?" The man standing before me gives me a quick once-over with his sharp eyes, making me shift uncomfortably under his scrutiny. I sneak a glance over at my brother to see if he can see me. Naturally, his back is toward me. Perfect.

"Well, I got this new piece of jewelry. It's supposed to really heighten certain pleasures. Wanna take a break and see if it works?" My face goes red, and I can't believe no one around us is paying him any mind.

"Wow, that was absolutely the most disrespectful thing any man has ever said to me. I hope you feel great shame," I say firmly, and I see Stevie marching back to the booth.

"Sorry," she mutters. "I'm not feeling well." I give her a sympathetic look.

"You okay for a few minutes?" She nods, and I give the guy one last glare before storming off. After I go pee, I will get a massive slushie and possibly put some vodka in it. Okay, probably not, but I saw cinnamon roll pretzels, and I'm definitely getting one of them.

I walk out of the bathroom, groaning at my jeans. I can't get them buttoned, and even though no one is looking, and I know one of the girls will fix it, I'm just annoyed by it. I settle against the wall in the quiet hallway for a moment. I like people. I am usually a complete extrovert. But since this last relapse, keeping my positive persona at the forefront is getting harder and harder. The angry Indy with dark thoughts, the one who feels short-changed, has been screaming louder and louder recently, and I just want her to go away. I know my negative mindset isn't helping anything, and I know studies have shown that just having positive thoughts can do wonders. I see my therapist regularly, and I'm always excited to learn and implement new tricks to help my outlook and mental health, but all of that just seems like trash right now.

"Hey." My heart pounds in my chest as I freeze at the sound of his voice. My eyes widen in fear as I turn to see the guy from the booth standing a couple of feet from me. He strides toward me with a predatory gaze, a twisted smile on his lips. "There you are," he growls, his hand reaching out to grab me. I stumble back, trying to escape, but he's too fast. "I knew you were playing hard to get," he sneers, his grip tightening around my arm. Panic courses through me as I realize I've been caught in his trap.

"W-What?" I sputter, my voice trembling with fear as I try to back away, but the grip on my arm is too tight. "No!" I shout, desperation lacing my words. "I'm telling you right now, I don't want you in any capacity." My heart races, and my hands shake uncontrollably as I try to physically push the person away from me. "Stay away from me," I warn through gritted teeth, my eyes wide with terror.

His eyes narrow into slits as a cruel smile pulls at his pierced lips. "That hurts. I have feelings, you know." He growls, his fingers digging into my arm like claws. With a sudden burst of rage, he shoves me against the wall, causing a sharp pain to shoot through my body. I let out a cry of agony as I try to push him away, but his grip only tightens. I hear the sickening sound of my belt loop tearing as he yanks at it mercilessly.

"Stop!" I scream out, stomping on his foot with my boots.

"Ow! You bitch!" He slams his fist into my face, the jagged edge of his ring slicing through my lip and sending warm blood gushing down my chin.

"Hey!" Tears prick at the corners of my eyes as Janie's voice cuts through the air like a knife. I look up to see her and Ren sprinting toward us, determination etched into their features. Before I can comprehend what's happening, Janie lunges at the guy and delivers a swift blow to his crotch, causing him to crumple in pain. She straddles his chest, pinning him down with surprising strength, and whips out her phone with one hand.

"Are you alright?" Ren's voice cuts through the fog in my mind, pulling me back to reality. I blink and look up at her, feeling shock and confusion wash over me. My lip is throbbing, and my heart is racing so painfully fast it feels like it might burst from my chest.

I hear Janie's frantic voice through the haze, but I can't make out her words. Everything around me seems distorted and blurry. My vision narrows, tunneling into darkness.

I try to focus on Ren's face, her blonde hair a bright beacon in the chaos. She's yelling something at me, but I can't comprehend what she's saying. I open my mouth to speak, but no sound comes out. The world spins and tilts before fading to black.