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“Like she was being murdered?” Damien cut in softly.
I shuddered and shook my head. “No…No. She’s not...”
She couldn’t be dead.
“Did anyoneelseever see her when you did?” he asked, making me frown in thought. “Jaylani?” he guessed. “Anyone?”
“Well, no. But…”
“Did you ever touch her? See her outside the apartment? Watch her eat or pick something up?”
Mind racing, I tried to come up with something to prove to him that the woman I knew couldn’t be a ghost. But… I had nothing. I hadn’t ever touched her. In fact, the one time I’d gotten remotely close to her, I’d felt cold. And she’d never eaten around me. I wasn’t even sure if I’d seen her actually holding a remote to turn on the television. My back had always been to her when she’d flipped through stations.
She hadn’t answered the door for me that first day; she’d called for me to come in. She hadn’t lifted a brush but made me paint the whole wall. She hadn’t taken money from me; she’d merely instructed me on how to send it to Damien.
Hell, no one else had seen her when I had either. Damien had come the closest when he’d heard the door slam, but apparently, all the other occupants before me had heard doors slamming and music playing as well.
“Oh God,” I uttered, clutching my stomach. “I rented a room from a freaking poltergeist.”
Damien opened his mouth to answer, but footsteps on the stairs made him stop and stand from the arm of the couch, facing the officer as he appeared.
“Well, I checked out the entire upper floor, attic, roof patio, and balcony,” the cop announced, tossing Damien’s keys back to him. “Everything looks clear. I’m gonna walk around the property on the outside ground level, and if that’s fine, I’ll just head out.”
Nodding at him, I forced a grateful smile and said, “Okay. Thanks for coming out. And…I’m sorry about…”
I motioned to the ceiling, but he waved a dismissing hand and shook his head. “It’s okay. Clearly, you didn’t know.” Sliding his gaze across the room, he sent Damien a condemning glance. “Someoneshould’ve told you.”
In response, Damien wiped both hands over his face, looking stressed.
I bitterly muttered, “Yeah,” and narrowed my eyes at him as I kept my arms tightly crossed over my chest.
Damien dropped his hands and met my gaze, his shattered expression making my own chest hurt. We stayed that way, staring at each other—me glaring accusingly, him begging forgiveness with his puppy-dog eyes—until the cop walked out, leaving us alone.
As soon as the door shut behind him, I asked, “Whydidn’tyou tell me?”
His eyes went watery with regret as he lifted a helpless hand and let out a mirthless laugh. “How the hell was I supposed to tell you something like that?”
“How?” I snapped. “Oh, I don’t know. How about,no, you didn’t rent a room from my sister; because she’s fucking DEAD.”
I knew saying it out loud would make him flinch. And petty, vindictive me, that’s exactly why I did it. To hurt him. Because he waskillingme right now.
I’d been falling for him, and he’d done nothing but lie to me.
“The first time I met you,” he started defensively. “I thought you had to be some kind of con artist, lying to scam me.”
“Scam you out ofwhat?” I cried incredulously.
“I don’tknow!” he cried back. “That’s the biggest reason why I let you stay. I… I was going to play along to figure out what you wanted.”
I scoffed out a resentful laugh and shook my head. Then I glanced at him to ask, “And thesmallerreason you let me stay? Because you just wanted to fuck me?”
“What?No!” His eyes flared with horror.
“Oh, so youdidn’twant to have sex with me the first time we met?” I charged, knowing that was a damn lie.
When his gaze flooded with guilt, I snorted acerbically and folded my arms over my chest so I could roll my eyes and shake my head with authority. “Which means you didn’t tell me I was a schizophrenic who saw people that weren’t really there because you were worried Imightnot sleep with you after that.”
“Oaklynn…” he scolded softly and stepped toward me. “Come on. You know better than that.”
