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“You’re right,” I reply with a sigh. “We may need to take a trip to Mama’s.”
* * *
Abby
Ishiver slightly at the strange chilly wave that brushes across my skin. Again. I glanced uncertainly at the AC, wondering if it was faulty, and realized it wasn’t on. I huff a tired sigh and lean back against the bed rest. The metallic bed frame squeaked noisily in protest. I look around the bare room with white walls and back at the IV needle stuck in the vein of my hand. What if I pulled it out and ran out of this room? I suppose I wouldn’t get too far. He’d only find me again if I managed to escape this nightmare. He looks like someone who would climb to the end of the world just to bring me back. What on earth does he want from me?
Pocus….
His name is one I’ve never heard before. It sounds strange, yet quite befitting. My heart picks up at the thought of his intense green eyes and devilish smirk. I place my free hand on my chest, feeling the dull thud of my heart beneath my palm. My heart must be beating so rapidly because I’m angry with him…Right?
“What the…?” I mutter in surprise as I’m suddenly hit by another cold wave, more intense this time.
“Cassandra likes you.”
I glance up at the owner of the voice. He’s hovering by the door as if unsure whether to walk right in or maintain his distance. I can tell he wants to do the former.
“Can I…uh come in?”
I openly assess him, running my eyes over his face. He’s not as tall as Pocus and has softer facial features. Although not quite as handsome as Pocus, his warm brown eyes and hesitant smile make him likable. He must be one of the Ruthless Kings that Pocus mentioned. If this is an MC clubhouse, there must be many of them. I’ve only met Pocus, the blue-eyed man that always seems to be around with him, and the doctor called Graveyard. It’s a strange name for someone that’s supposed to save lives…but he seemed to know his stuff. I can barely feel the ache in my skull anymore. I glance at the brown-eyed man by the door. He seems to be waiting impatiently for my invitation. I don’t think I’m in the mood to socialize with one of my abductors, but it’d be rude to blatantly turn him away.
“Um…sure,” I say, clearing my throat awkwardly. “Come right in.”
He smiles and walks into the room, closing the door behind him. He pulls out the chair by my bed and lowers himself on it. “Uh…hi. My name is Hex,” he says, flashing another smile. “I hope you…Cassandra, not now!”
I blink rapidly at him, wondering if I’ve let a nutcase into the room. He looks up from the empty space beside him and throws me an awkward smile. “I’m sorry about that. It’s…uh…Cassandra. She wants to keep you company.”
“Cassandra?” I repeat slowly, looking around the room to see if I’d missed the entrance of the other person named Cassandra. “Wh…who’s Cassandra?”
“She’s a ghost,” Hex says, like it totally makes sense that he’s talking to me about ghosts. “She seems to like you…it’s why she’s been hanging around you all morning.”
I incline my head to search his face. “A ghost?” I ask with a small snort. “That’s a joke, right?”
He doesn’t laugh, though. He frowns slightly looking into my eyes. “You don’t believe in ghosts?” he asks incredulously.
“You’re damn right I don’t,” I reply with a scoff. “It’s just so ridiculous to think that the spirits of the dead people hang around, don’t you think? Life after death? That’s a load of bull.”
“But ghosts exist,” Hex insists. “We have lots of them here at the clubhouse. Cassandra is sitting right next to you.”
I huff a heavy sigh. He doesn’t look like it, but I’m pretty certain he has a loose screw or two. “Will you stop with…?” I’m interrupted by another wave of chilly air, more intense this time. “Gosh, what’s with the air conditioner in here?”
“It’s not the air conditioner,” Hex says. “It’s Cassandra. You’ll feel the cold waves when the ghosts are close to you or when they walk right through you. You’ll get used to the feeling real soon.”
“So these ghosts…,” I say slowly. “You see them?”
Hex nods. “It’s my gift. The same way Pocus can sense things and Seer sees the future; I can see and talk to ghosts.”
“Okay…,” I reply with a short laugh. I’m not about to argue with a crazy man. “I…I think I should get some rest. I don’t feel so well.”
Hex’s expression instantly morphs into that of genuine concern. “Oh…I’m sorry about that.” He turns his attention to a place beside me. “You heard that, Cassandra. You should let the pretty missus rest.”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes at him. I plaster a small smile on my face and return his wave. “Bye.”
I wait for him to close the door behind him before letting out a heavy sigh. Is this, by chance, a psychiatric home?
I’m just about to lie back down when the door is opened again. But this time, instead of Hex and his ghost friend, my eyes come in contact with familiar green ones that search my face with a provoking intensity.
“Are you here to torture me some more?” I ask dryly.
