AllFreeNovel
Share Us
CHAPTERNINETEEN
When I woke up this morning, I did not picture myself standing in the middle of a dump, combing through bags of trash. It smells like shit and my stomach turns as I imagine what things must have been discarded in this godforsaken place. I’m wearing my rattiest clothes and they feel too clean for this place. I’ll have to burn them when I get home.
“I don’t understand why you needed me here for this,” Hex grumbles from a few feet away. “I’m not the one who threw the thing out.”
“Keep complaining, and I’ll leave you here to search by yourself,” I call to him, a familiar gnawing starting in my chest. This isn’t the time or place to lose my temper, but I can’t help but be angry.
I vent my frustration on a particularly thick trash bag, ripping it open with my bare hands. The contents spill onto me and I want to vomit. I haven’t felt this disgusting since I was homeless as a child.
“What do you hope to accomplish here?” Hex asks petulantly. “There’s no way you’ll find one vase in this sea of shit. It’s probably buried under thousands of pounds of trash.
“It’s that unimaginative thinking that proves to me you’ll never excel in a position of power,” I tell him.
“If this is what power looks like, Pocus, I don’t fucking want it. Why don’t you have one of the Prospects do this?”
“Because it’s too fucking important!” I yell in frustration. “If Mama is right, this vase could help us figure out what’s been going on. If there’s a chance she’s right, it’s something I have to do myself.”
“Which brings me back to the question,” he answered sarcastically. “Why the fuck do I have to be here?”
I drop the bag of trash in my hands and run at him, pushing him down.
“Because I don’t fucking trust you right now,” I scream from above him. “Seer is right. You’ve compromised us. And you still believe this girl has nothing to do with any of it. How can that be when this started with her arrival in your life?”
He glares at me, breathing hard. The sun beats down on us, and the heat isn’t helping right now. I don’t care, though. I’d gladly melt on the spot if it means the attacks will stop.
“You don’t understand,” Hex snarls at me. “You fell in love with someone who’s alive at least. And you never would be put in this situation because you can’t fucking see ghosts. Do you know how exhausting this gift gets? I don’t pick and choose when I see the dead, they’re always fucking there. I don’t like this poltergeist any more than you do, but at least it’s given me a fucking break.”
“So you admit she’s the poltergeist. Otherwise, why would she be the only spirit you’ve seen lately?”
He shakes his head and stands slowly, rubbing the trash off of his clothes. “Juliana isn’t the poltergeist,” he says in a low voice. “I’d bet my entire life on it. So if I’m wrong, fucking put me out of my misery and put a bullet in my head. But I’m not wrong, Pocus. I thought she was at first because she’s not like the other ghosts. I can touch her and feel her. But the more I think about it, the more I’m sure it can’t be her.”
I feel his sincerity. He truly believes this woman isn’t the demon spirit that’s been after us, and he’s willing to vouch for her. I feel the emotions rolling off him. He loves this woman even though she’s dead. He’s conflicted about his feelings, but that’s the most prominent.
“You know, when I found out who Abigail really was, I was devastated,” I tell him. “She’d been haunting my mind from the moment I saw her, but when I knew what she did to Bones and who she worked for, I didn’t know what to think.”
He nods, turning away from me to get back to work. This isn’t a conversation he wants to have, but he needs to hear me out.
I sigh. “Hex, Abigail had no idea what Anderson made her do. What if this girl is the same?”
“She’s not hexed, Pocus, she’s dead. Not even the strongest shaman can influence the mind of a dead person.”
“Then have you considered she could be helping the poltergeist? Possibly of her own free will?” He doesn’t want to hear it, but he needs to consider that as pure as he thinks she is, she could be a threat.
“Absolutely not,” he tells me. If he’s wrong, he’s incredibly stubborn about it.
“Well then,” I breathe out. “You have to talk to her. If you’re sure down to your core that she isn’t trying to harm us intentionally, then you need to help her figure out what’s happened.”
He looks at me, shocked, and I understand his apprehension. Only, I’ve been where he’s been. I know what it’s like to love someone the others don’t trust, and for good reason. But Abigail is the best part of my life, and things would have been a lot different for me if I hadn’t believed her.
“I’m not going to tell you again,” I warn. “Get the hell out of here. I’ll find the vase.”
He drops the trash in his hands and runs to his bike without a backwards glance.
After an extended shower, then a second shower just to be safe, I hesitantly approach the room in the basement. I hate to think of it as a dungeon, but that’s what it is for Juliana. I feel terrible we’ve had to trap her in there, and even worse when I remember our last conversation. She’d been so devastated when I told her we couldn’t be together.
She probably hates me, but I have to talk to her. If we can figure out what happened to her, maybe we can work together to understand how this is related to the poltergeist. At the very least, I owe her an apology for my behavior.
When I look inside the room, I see that she’s curled up in a corner, her legs pulled to her chest and her face pressed against her knees. My heart lurches at the sight, and I go to her, pulling her into my arms. She sobs against my neck, but I can’t feel the wetness of it. It’s such an odd sensation touching her.
