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“Um, yeah. Who was that guy?” I ask her, putting it back on her to buy myself some time.

“I don’t know, but I’ve been reading his coffee cups all week and I’m not doing that shit today.” She stares at his cup and shudders.

I look between her and her cup before glancing at Grammy who shrugs her shoulders. Brenna frowns down at it, before her gaze moves to Starla.

“Reading?”

She looks between me and Brenna. “OK, so, we can all agree weird shit goes on around here, right?” She stares at me, “Right?”

“Um, yeah. Course.”

“I don’t touch other people's things unless I want to know things I can’t unknow.”

“Oohhh, this is getting good,” Grammy breathes.

“Ohhhhhh. That makes so much sense.” Brenna adds, moving closer to Starla, “does it have to be skin on skin?”

Starla swallows, her gaze dipping. “Only my skin.”

Brenna, my soft, warm Brenna, links her arm with Starla’s, leaning in to her. Starla blinks her black lined eyes quickly, but I don’t miss the sheen in them.

“Thanks, Bren.”

“Anytime, Starla.”

My heart rate slows knowing my woman is feeling more like herself. I have no fucking clue what happened just then, and as nice as this moment is, we kinda need to get to the bottom of it.

“OK, so, what do you want to know?” Starla asks, tightening her arm around Bren’s, and pulling her shoulders back.

I appreciate how she wants to move on, not wanting the moment to last too long. It’s something I remember doing after Mama Celene found me. She had an inkling as to what I could do, but not the whole picture. She’d sometimes ask me questions. About the people I saw, about how it made me feel. I would answer everything quickly and clinically knowing that if I took my time I would have to recognize things about myself I wasn't quite ready to accept. Seeing Starla doing the same thing younger me did, well, I totally fucking understand her willingness to get this shit over with.

“What did you see?” I ask, watching her face for any clues.

She has an expressive face. It’s something the pale makeup and black eyeliner can't hide. “I only ever see Brenna.” She glances at Bren. “But not this Brenna, all different aged Brennas. I, ah, I’m pretty sure he was with or near some people who died.”

“Oh, baby,” Grammy whispers, moving toward Brenna and wrapping her arms around her.

“Died?” I ask.

“I think so? I keep seeing a man and a woman in a car. And a little kid in the backseat.” Her gaze flicks to Brenna who sniffs and nods her head. “And then it jumps forward and it’s Brenna dressed in black at some weird house. I don’t know. Every time it’s different, but Brenna is always there.”

Chapter 14

Brenna

Isaw everything.

You didn’t remember, did you?

I didn’t. I don’t. My childhood up until Grammy is a jumble of memories, none of them long enough for me to really grasp hold of them. Snippets of my parents with me. Picnicking. At the park. Doctors visits about my “imaginary” friend. Little bits here and there. Wisps of memories. Until now. Until Percy caught hold of me and wouldn’t let me go. He was there. I saw him.

“Bren?”

My gaze meets Gabe’s concerned one. “Percy. Or whatever the heck his name is. He was there when my parents died.” The ending comes out in a broken whisper. “I forgot. Or didn’t remember. There’s a difference.”

“Yes, there is, baby.” Grammy says, wrapping her arms around me on one side as my arm is still linked with Starla’s.

Gabe looks devastated and raging mad all at the same time. The mild mannered man I’ve known all these months as he came in and out of my place of work has been replaced with a man who cares for me.