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Where did she get a gun? Had that thing been in our apartment all this time?
I hoped she was dead and in a completely separate wing of hell from me.
If I saw her here, I’d kill her myself.
I smirked. That was probably my punishment. It wasn’t enough I spent my living years with her. I had to spend my dead ones with her too.
Why was there so much pain?
It was as if I were in the prison cell of my head and I couldn’t get out. There were no doors. Just the noise. The pain. And the darkness.
I wanted out.
I needed to teach JoJo how to swim.
I’d promised and I didn’t want to break that any longer.
Maybe I could ask someone to give me another life. If I couldn’t be reincarnated as myself, it would probably be best if I weren’t another man. I’d be too jealous of myself if JoJo fell for him. And, since it was me, she would.
I could be a dog. A faithful companion.
If I could just find someone to ask . . .
“Wake up.” Something shook my shoulder. “I need to talk to you.”
I needed to talk to them too. And that hurt.
“Zegas, I swear if you make me defend you while you’re unconscious . . .”
Whitley? Was he in hell?
“How am I supposed to explain why you texted your ex-wife to meet you?” His warbled voice lowered. “There was a restraining order. One you asked me to have put in place.”
He was pissed in hell.
And I could text here?
It was so dark, I didn’t see a phone, not that it would help if I did. My arms felt so heavy I couldn’t lift them.
“Zegas.”
If I could, I’d smack Whitley.
The noise in my head was better than hearing him drone on.
Who was I kidding? I was happy to hear a familiar voice.
“Let him rest.”
Barn?
No, she was alive. She couldn’t be in hell. I hadn’t dragged her here with me, had I?
“Don’t listen to him.” This time, there was a gentle touch on my shoulder. It still hurt . . . a lot.
Was that part of my punishment? To crave JoJo’s touch, but it was painful?
“You take your time.”
