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“Everything got worse,” Sammy replied in a soft voice. “Jacob used to tell me things. Like he knew what ghosts were wanting around him, or he’d sense their emotions.” Tears welled in Sammy’s eyes. “I never had any experience with any of that. I was so worried about him.”
The realization of why Sammy had died had hit me like a punch to the chest. There, in the depths of his eyes was misery so bare he didn’t need to tell me why, as I already knew. “You were going to force him to get help, weren’t you?”
Sammy bowed his head and whispered, “Yes.”
I shifted against the cool cement, glimpsed at his hands in his lap, and watched him wring his fingers. I craved to grab them, comfort him somehow, and hated that I had no power to do so. “I’m guessing Jacob didn’t take that well.”
“He lost it.” Sammy finally lifted his head and his voice trembled. “You have to understand, we didn’t have it easy. We had a tough life, and always felt a little abandoned.”
While I could understand Sammy’s point, the one thing I couldn’t was why ghosts always defended their murderer, if they knew them on a personal level. At first, they always did. I supposed it had to be the stages of grief setting in, because normally they all ended up angry by the end of it.
Not to say I’d point that out to Sammy. I stayed silent as he continued, “We had seen kids from the orphanage go into the institution. They were taken away from the only thing we knew as home, by a doctor and two orderlies…” He hesitated, shut his eyes a moment, and when he opened them, desolation shone in their depths. “It was horrible.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “So, Jacob was afraid that would happen to him?”
Sammy gave a soft nod. “The more I pressed him to get help, the more afraid he became of what would happen to him.” He tilted his head, and his expression became measured. “More afraid of what was happening to him.”
I considered what Sammy had told me, and now I understood a little more about Wayde. Still, I couldn’t quite grasp how that would lead to murder instead of just Wayde kicking Sammy out of his life. “Okay, but why did he kill you?”
“It took me a long time to remember all the details of what happened. But slowly, throughout the years, more and more came back.”
Sammy stared at me, and then his eyes glazed over again, lost in a memory. “One night, Jacob was crying and telling me he didn’t understand what was going on with him. It was awful, he was in total hysterics, and I was at my end. I told him that night I was going to tell someone the truth to get him help.”
I nibbled my lip, waiting for him to continue, but when he didn’t, I gave him a gentle push and whispered, “Did that make him angry?”
Sammy blinked and after a sigh, he said, “So angry—almost like he snapped. It all happened so quickly. I remember, suddenly I was on the floor with Jacob on top of me, and there was a pillow over my face.”
At the sadness dripping off his voice, tears filled my eyes, and my chest tightened. Seeing Sammy sitting there, telling such a tragic story, wa
s unbearable. I wanted nothing more than to reach forward and hug him, ease the sorrow I could see and hear now, but I had no ability to achieve such a desire. Instead, I whispered, “I’m so sorry, Sammy.”
Once again, he gave his small sweet smile. “I forgive Jacob. He had nothing. We had nothing. He was scared.”
Yeah, and now I knew why Wayde was so concerned about my abilities. The motive to kill Alexander to keep me away that I couldn’t understand before now became clear-cut. I was the one person who could communicate with the ghost that could destroy Wayde’s life. “And you’ve stayed with him this whole time?”
Sammy’s lip quivered before he controlled himself. He pulled his legs up and rested his chin on his knee. “Where else would I go? I only had Jacob.”
I studied Sammy a moment, feeling a serious crying fit on the brink. Ghosts always returned to the one place they felt safe, because it comforted them. I thought it was so damn sad that the only place Sammy felt eased was in the presence of the man who had killed him. But I forced myself to hold it together. Right now, Sammy needed my strength, not my tears.
Somehow, it made Wayde’s actions even worse because of Sammy’s loyalty. I realized Sammy had probably been a better person than I, because I wouldn’t be able to do what he had. “How can you forgive him so easily?”
“It wasn’t easy.” Sammy snorted softly. “But when I died, a part of Jacob died, too. I saw it after I awoke to this life.” He waved his hands over himself. “I still see it now—he’s empty and dark. His happiness and soul died the night he killed me. Even though he still lives, he’s just as dead as I am.”
Funny enough how I thought Wayde was only cold to me, but now that Sammy said it, I wondered what Wayde would’ve been like before he murdered Sammy. How different of a man was he? It also explained why he lived in this disgusting house. He didn’t care about anything anymore, except for hiding his secrets.
I paused, collecting my thoughts and a thought rose, considering Wayde definitely had evil in his soul. “Do you know how Jacob projects a pure aura, then?”
“Magic.” Sammy lowered his legs to cross-legged. “It’s why he keeps my bones in the trunk. He needs them close for the spell.”
I tried to imagine that type of magic, but failed miserably. “You’ve seen him do this spell?”
“Yeah,” Sammy agreed with a nod. “He does an aura repair spell every morning…or at least, that’s what it’s called on the piece of paper.” His look became incredulous. “If I didn’t see it with my own eyes, I’d never believe any of it. But after Jacob does the spell, I always notice an odd shift in his energy.”
That explained that well enough, and hearing all this explained something else, too. It gave huge motivation for why Alexander had lost his life, and why Wayde had done his best to keep me out of White Castle. “Jacob’s past was why the group was so important to him, wasn’t it?”
Again, Sammy nodded. “I suspect—and from what I saw—he felt like he had a real family. He finally found people who understood him, who were like him, and accepted him in ways that I couldn’t.”
For all the reasons I suspected Wayde was behind this, and why he killed Alexander, this wasn’t at all what I could’ve imagined. Now, my part in it all became as clear as day. “Exactly why he wanted to kill me. He knew I’d find you and you could ruin him.”
