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“I don’t like this,” he says to the wall. “It isn’t right for you to put yourself in danger for us. I’m supposed to be protecting you.”
“What a backward, misogynistic view.” I giggle. “We are partners, Nicholas Abner. For better or worse. That means I will always fight for you as hard as you fight for me.”
He lies down and rolls over to my side of the bed, pulling me to him. “Please be careful,” he whispers in my ear. “I can’t lose you.”
CHAPTERFIFTEEN
Another clusterfuck of a week has gone by with more random attacks on other gangs in the city. The police keep a very close eye on us, and we’ve been watching everyone else. Snake brings us leads to follow that ultimately lead nowhere. It’s like someone is purposely leading us on, making us chase our asses.
Meanwhile, the police lack leads on the shooter. Now that most of the Cuatro Locos gang is dead, they’ve released a statement that the shooter was likely killed in the blast. It’s bullshit, and we know it. The leader of the Cuatro Locos maintained their innocence until his untimely death. While we’re all being attacked, who’s the one doing the attacking?
Pocus volleys between believing it’s the poltergeist and being suspicious of the cops. He’s finally gotten some rest and gotten his head on straight, but the stress still gets to him. He’s thinner, if that was possible. I always thought he was a skinny motherfucker, but now he’s wasting away to nothing,
Then there’s Tory, who’s stubbornly denying anything is wrong with her. We hear her throwing up night and day, and she’s constantly pushing herself to help. Seer’s begged me to talk to her, but she won’t listen. We’re worried about her, more than she seems to worry about herself. It’s frustrating as shit to watch someone you love hurt. She keeps telling me I’m sweet to worry, but I’m sick over her wellbeing.
My only solace in this has been the idea of seeing Juliana again. There’s something about her that makes me feel more alive and more hopeful about the future that’s been so fucking bleak.
Tonight, I find her at the same park, looking as radiant as ever. Her long, dark hair is pulled back in a ponytail, making her face look sharper and more ethereal. She’s the most stunning woman I’ve ever seen, and every time I meet her she gets more beautiful.
“Hey, you.” She smiles at my approach. “I was wondering when I’d see you again.”
“Any fucking time you want.” I chuckle. “Christ, it’s good to see you.”
She blushes shyly and looks down at her shoes. I want to sweep her in my arms and take her away from this place, to somewhere more private where we’d be less likely to get caught. I’ve been dying to get my hands on her, but we haven’t gotten that far yet. We’ve spent so much time talking, I’ve fallen for her mind more than her body.
It’s some fucking lame, girly shit, but I like it. I’d never admit it to the guys, but getting to know her has been infinitely better than some quick, random fuck. She’s someone I could see myself with in the long term, and I never imagined I’d consider that.
“So, are you ready to have your ass whooped on the swings again?” she jokes, changing the subject. She’s so fucking adorable.
“I had some different ideas.” I step closer until she’s a breath away. “Shit, Juliana,” I whisper. “I hope I’m not off base here, but I can’t stop thinking about you. Every time I leave you, all I can think about is seeing you again. Life’s been rough lately, but you make it worth it.”
Her eyes grow wet, something I didn’t expect from her. She has such a tough exterior, but underneath, she’s soft and vulnerable. We’re not so different in that sense.
“Thank God. I thought it was just me.” Her voice hitches. “You’re the best thing that’s happened since my parents died. Maybe the only good thing.”
She leans into me, grabbing my shirt and pulling me down to her for a kiss. I want to get lost in it, to let her consume me, but when she touches me, it feels wrong. It’s like she isn’t there, no more tangible than a stiff breeze or water from a spout. I pull away, looking at her in horror, and it all crashes down on me.
The first time I dreamed about her was the night Anderson Grey died. The first time I saw her in person was the night of the shooting. We met in a fucking graveyard. The ghosts have hidden from me, the poltergeist has directly attacked me, and it all began with visions of her. How could I have been so stupid?
Pocus was right, I shouldn’t have trusted her.
She stares at me in confusion, wide-eyed and innocent, and my stomach turns. Can she be so manipulative to continue the charade even now? She reaches out and touches me, but she knows I can barely feel her. She’s more solid than a ghost, but she clearly isn’t alive.
“Who the fuck are you?” I ask, my voice as cold as stone.
Her face is a mixture of hurt and confusion, another tool to make me feel weak around her. It won’t work.
“Hex, you’re scaring me.” She steps further away. “If I’m a bad kisser, just say so,” she tries to joke lightly, but her voice betrays her panic.
“Did you think I wouldn’t realize what you are?” I growl at her. “Have you been planning this from the beginning? You knew I’d be able to see you. I can fucking see ghosts, but you hedged your bets.”
She looks afraid now, only enraging me further. I feel betrayed and idiotic. I finally fall for someone and she’s a fucking poltergeist.
“No one sent me,” she answers in a high-pitched voice. Tears shine in her eyes and her voice is strangled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Hex. Why are you saying that? What do you mean you can see ghosts?”
“Don’t,” I warn. “Don’t fucking try to act like I’m stupid. You’ve been playing me from the beginning, just admit it! When did you die?”
She takes in a sharp breath of air, surely trying to distract me.
