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It feels as if my soul has been put up for sale and was bought by the devil himself.
Gravel rolls around in my stomach as I squeeze Becka hard, willing myself to do as she instructs.
Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Deep breath in. Deep breath out.
I once read that farmers scorch their lands to ensure new crops will grow in the future. And though I’ve tried time and time again to light my past on fire, the taste of it still remains in my mouth, the bitter combination of ash and burnt embers. There’s no escaping it. No running from it. No incinerating it.
“Shit, I’m sorry!” Becka scrubs her fingers through my hair comfortingly, almost desperately. “I shouldn’t have brought it up. Shit. Shit. Shit.”
Coherent thoughts steadily return to me, little kernels that pop to life one at a time. Even so, my heart continues to slam against my ribs, and my breath comes out in choppy pants.
I pat her shoulder once to indicate I’m fine, that she doesn’t need to hold me anymore, that I’ve gotten myself together.
She’s dealt with these episodes more times than I care to admit.
“I thought… I thought I wouldn’t fall apart again,” I whisper. At some point, I must’ve sunk to the ground. My knees are all the way up to my chest with my arms wrapped around them. “I thought…”
“PTSD doesn’t have a fucking time limit,” Becka reminds me vehemently. “Don’t allow anyone to tell you differently.”
“Thinking of my parents always makes me think of…them.” My upper lip pulls away from my teeth at just the thought of the brothers who shall not be named.
In one day, I lost the five people I loved the most. My parents may be dead, but the other three…They’re lost to me.
Of their own volition.
“You know we don’t talk about Dick Face, Jizz Cock, and Wank Stain,” Becka says gently, but with an undercurrent of unfettered rage.
“Let’s talk about something less…depressing,” I suggest.
Becka’s eyes immediately gleam as she moves to sit down beside me, seemingly unconcerned that her dress may get dirty. That’s one thing I love about my best friend—her willingness to do just about anything for me.
“Like…a party?” She gives me the largest puppy-dog eyes she’s physically capable of.
“How about a job?” This time,I’mthe one smiling—a wide, genuine smile that feels almost unnatural on my face, as if my muscles have forgotten how to twitch that way.
Since I lost my parents, there’s been a darkness inside of me, a bloodlust that can’t be satiated through school and classes and part-time jobs. It can only be fed when I’m hunting.
When I’m killing monsters.
“A job?” Becka’s eyebrows knit together. “I told you I can’t go on any jobs in the next couple weeks. I have exams—”
“I’m going to do this one solo,” I tell her.
At that, pure fury seeps into her eyes. “No way in hell. You know I hate when you do jobs without me. You get all scorched earth without my sobering influence.”
“This one should be pretty straightforward.” I reach into my pocket and pull out my phone.
The most recent newspaper article is already pulled up—a newlywed couple was found mysteriously murdered at a luxury hotel only a few hours away from here. I’ve taken enough of these cases to know that this is a simple haunting. All I’ll need to do is perform an exorcism. Even with the magical skills of a drunken otter, that should be easy-peasy.
“Lily…” Becka bites down on her lower lip hard enough to draw blood.
“I’ve gone on solo missions before,” I remind her.
“Yes. That’s why I don’t want you to go.” She blows out a breath, stirring a strand of blonde and pink hair. “You’realways…” She hesitates, seemingly deciding on the right word, before blurting out, “Reckless.”
“Reckless?” I quirk an eyebrow.
“You don’t see it, Lil, but I do. You seem to have a death wish or something—”
