Page 125 of Chasing Your Ghost

It was true, and after spending the morning and afternoon around his spiritual form and interacting with the ghost of an older man she’d stumbled across in the hallway after going to the bathroom earlier, she was starting to feel the first signs of low blood sugar.

She’d need to eat something much more substantial when she got home, but she settled on demolishing a bag of Cheetos and a Snickers bar, happily sitting next to Asher when he shifted over to make room for her.

“It will be nice not to get shaky and nauseous anymore when I’m around you for too long,” she said after her last bite of the Snickers.

“I certainly hope not,” he replied. “Making girls nauseous isn’t exactly something to brag about.”

Riley chuckled. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Not nearly as ridiculous as mayonnaise sandwiches,” he pointed out with a tired grin.

“True,” she murmured before resting her head on his shoulder.

He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close. She wasn’t sure when or how they fell asleep, but that’s how Asher’s parents and Riley’s mother found them. She was too tired to be embarrassed, and Asher barely stirred when she climbed out of the bed.

“Ready to go home?” Edith asked quietly.

Riley smothered a yawn and nodded. She looked at Asher one last time. His lips were parted in his sleep, and despite everything he’d been through, he looked peaceful, calm. His parents had moved to sit beside him, their eyes locked onto him with wonder.

Riley knew how much this meant to Asher’s parents, but she also knew how significant it was for him. His parents were looking at him, seeing him, and when his mom gently placed her hand over her son’s, her hand didn’t pass through his. It was perhaps the best sight that Riley had ever witnessed.

34

Asher hadn’t realized how much he’d missed food until the taste of bacon hit his tongue the next morning. He’d gone weeks without eating, but he’d been too preoccupied with missing his family and friends to miss something as trivial as food. However, when he had that first bite of bacon, he was pretty sure he heard fireworks going off. It was that good. Nowhere near as perfect as the taste of Riley’s lips, but amazing nonetheless.

Speaking of Riley, Asher wondered if she’d come and visit him. He’d fallen asleep before he could get another moment alone with her, and it wasn’t as though he had her number to call her. He needed to thank her again, and he wanted to ask her how her cheek was. And, if Asher were honest, he also wanted to pick up where they’d left off when Chris and Ella had interrupted them.

He’d do just about anything to get out of the hospital right then and there and drive to her house. He could picture walking into her bedroom, marching right up to her, and thanking her by lifting her off her feet and kissing her until she was panting against his lips.

He’d pull back, tug her earlobe between his teeth, and breathe in the scent of her shampoo—the subtle smell of berries had hit his nose the previous day for the first time, but he already loved it. Smell was another sense that he hadn’t realized how much he’d missed.

Then he’d move them to the bed and lower his mouth to the curve of her neck, kissing his way down her body until he reached—

“Asher?”

He blinked, bringing himself back to the present. “Sorry, what were you saying?” he asked the detective who’d shown up at Ella’s house after the incident with the watch.

He’d come by to ask a few more questions, and Asher really should have been paying more attention.

“Did he ever tell you what he was planning to do with you?”

“He never said, but based on the fact that he kept me tied up and gagged in the middle of a pentagram, I’m thinking something along the lines of a human sacrifice.”

“Right,” the man said, his tone conveying how crazy he found the whole thing. “Now, you said you were gagged, but your friends said they heard you scream. How do you explain that?”

He shrugged. “I managed to get the gag out when I heard people upstairs.”

“I see. And how do you explain that you have no marks on your wrists or ankles from being tied up?”

Asher had to hand it to the man. He was a good detective. Maybe too good, considering the circumstances.

“Is my son a suspect now, Detective Perez?” Asher’s father asked from the other side of the room, where he and Asher’s mom sat on chairs.

“Dad, it’s okay,” Asher said, knowing it would only make the detective more suspicious if they got cagey. “I don’t have marks on my wrists and ankles because after a few days of taking blood and giving me almost nothing to eat, I was too weak to do much more than lie there, so he loosened the knots.”

It was the best he could come up with, but by the way the detective’s eyebrows arched, Asher didn’t think it had been good enough.

“And your friend, Ella, never mentioned this pen-pal to you before? Doesn’t that seem odd? You two are close, aren’t you?”

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