Page 47 of Hot Ghost Summer

I pause my assault. “That… was almost a compliment.”

I assure you, it wasn’t.

I look down at the pan of holy water and wrinkle the bridge of my nose. “This isn’t working either, is it?”

No.

“Why won’t you just tell me what t’ do? I don’t want t’ be haunted anymore.” I dump the pan on the counter and pick up Hollis’s phone instead.

I have unfinished business.

“Your database? I could help?”

I’ve experienced your help. No thank you.

“Rude. You’re supposed t’ be the expert. Mister Pickett paired you with me so you’d teach me, but all you do is get angry and blow stuff up. I’m the only one trying ’ere. So, if you won’t help me, I’ll find someone who will.”

White and green lines roll down the screen.

What’s that supposed to mean?

“I need a way t’ protect myself—”

You can’t tell anyone about me. About this.

“Spoken like a true red flag,” I mutter, walking back to my bedroom to find my sneakers.

I’m serious, Theo. You can’t. Stay.

I scoff, flopping onto my bed. “I’m not a dog.”

I still need time.

“Why’s it always about what you want? I haven’t been paid because I’m on leave. Probably, I can’t go back until you move on. I want my life back, Hollis.”

Who will you speak to?

“I don’t know,” I lie. “ExorSquad is useless.”

You’re inviting trouble. I won’t let you do this.

Annoyed, I flip him over so I don’t have to look at his stupid screen. I’m in trouble already. My fingertips trace the sensitive skin around my eye, and then the scab that’s formed on my lip.

Regardless of Hollis’s threats, I have to go. And he can’t come with me—he’ll only make more trouble. But how to keep him here? Turning off my phone isn’t enough, I learned that yesterday. I need something better, more robust. Something specifically designed to prevent unwanted outcomes. A protective barrier that isn’t a jar of salt.

My gaze falls on the drawer of my nightstand.

No… Surely that wouldn’t work?

As quietly as I can, I slide the drawer open. Two bottles of lube, one almost empty bottle of baby oil, several cock rings, a couple of toys, a small box of tissues, and a selection of colourful condom packets greet me. They’d been going free at the London Pride events this summer and I’d stocked up, but I hadn’t noticed until now that one of the packets is black with a little cartoon ghost on it.

Oh, if ever there was a sign…

Snatching it up, I tear it open with my teeth. Flavourless. Good. Wouldn’t want to overexcite my poltergeist, and god knows Hollis is wound so tight that getting sheathed inside a piña colada flavoured johnny might just set him off.

Rolling the condom over my thumb, I retrieve Hollis’s phone with my other hand.

What’s that?