Page 108 of Ghost Hunted

I press my face to her curls so she won’t see my tears.

Then I hear her breath on my neck as she opens her mouth a few times like she’s hesitating.

“Yes, baby?” I breathe. “You can tell me.”

“What I really want is… I want to be free, Logan.”

“Yes, baby. No more cages. I told you, right?”

She nods slowly. “Yes.”

“It’ll be different from now on. I’m going to take good care of you. I’m going to make you happy...”

“But I don’t want to be happy,” she insists. “At least... that’s not the most important thing. The most important thing is freedom.”

“Right.” I frown, trying to understand why she’s insisting. “I told you, no cage. It’ll be different from now on. I promise.”

At last, she lies back down wearily, grunting with pain. “Okay, Logan. Okay. If you say so.”

34

Logan

“From now on, this is your side of the bed. The one with the glass of water. That way you don’t need to get up to drink. Of course, you can... if you want.”

I fluff up the pillow beneath her as she gives me a little grimace.

“I got you lots of things to read,” I continue. “All your favorite magazines. I can get you books too, if you want, or comics, or whatever you like. Here’s the remote control for the TV, and you can put on all the reality shows you want. And this is for you.”

The small, sad smile that seems to have become a permanent part of her face since she woke up in the hospital fades just a bit as I show her a large orange Hermes box. Still, I can tell the sadness is lurking just underneath, and my heart squeezes as I realize just how powerless I am to fix her.

“Logan! A Birkin bag? How the hell did you get this? Doesn’t it cost more than like... a car?”

“Not the kind of car you’re going to be driving around in from now on,” I tell her, kissing her freckled forehead.

“Oh?” She arches a brow. “Does that mean I’ll be able to drive your car?”

“That’s not what I meant, but...” I pause, wondering just how many lies I’ll need to tell her to make her happy again. “Well... yes, why not?”

“Really?” She tries to sit up, wincing at the weight of the neck brace. “All by myself?”

I kiss her so I don’t have to answer right away. “Maybe,” I settle on. “It’s going to take you a little while to get well. After that... we’ll see.”

_

I really don’t want to see.

I know I’m a special kind of psychopath for secretly hoping she never gets well, just so I don’t have to deal with what comes after. It’s easy to talk about freedom with a girl who can barely sit up. But once she gets well enough to move around, and requests the freedom I’ve been dangling before her... what then?

The very next day, she’s already strong enough to get out of bed. I return from a meeting to find her standing in the center of the bedroom, her forehead creased with pain.

“Lia,” I say quickly, walking toward her. “You look like you’re in pain. You should get back in bed.”

“No.” She tries to shake her head, but clearly thinks better of it. “I want to go out. I want to... to walk around. To drive your car.”

“Okay, baby. You’ll be able to do that very soon. But right now, I want you to lie down. Don’t break your neck all over again, huh?”

“I just want to go out,” she groans. “I won’t drive myself—not yet. But I could lie down in the passenger seat, and you’d take me for a ride. I want to go down to the boulevard with all the designer boutiques.”