Page 3 of Haunted

Sometime over the past six years, I’d become a regular at Sunset and had gotten to know him fairly well. He’d bought the place fifteen years ago, converting it from a run-down bakery into an upscale pub. Not only was the atmosphere perfect, but considering I was a shit cook, the food was pretty great as well. The other upside…it was within walking distance to my apartment.

Rising from the stool, I grabbed the wallet from my back pocket, tossing a couple twenties on the bar to cover my tab plus a hefty tip.

“I haven’t seen the rest of your crew in here for a while,” he remarked.

“Cut the bullshit, man. Just ask her out already.”

He’d been drooling over one of my teammates, Alaina “Lanie” Biggs, since the first time I’d brought them to Sunset to decompress after a particularly nasty case.

“Can’t do that when I haven’t seen her, K.”

“Fair point. I’ll rally the troops, just don’t puss out this time.”

“Whatever, asshole.” He flipped me off.

Chuckling, I returned his one-finger wave, pushing through the thick wooden door and stepping onto the sidewalk, breathing in the crisp cool air. Temperatures in Huntington were what I considered heavenly, except during the summer months when it was so hot and humid you needed two showers a day to keep up with the excess perspiration.

I hadn’t taken two steps when my cell rang, the expected call coming much later than I’d anticipated.

“Everything is copesetic, Jas,” I answered.

“Right, and I’ve got prime ocean-front property for sale in Arizona,” he deadpanned.

“Well, you should get a whack if you’ve hired the right realtor.”

Switching the phone to my other ear, I began walking down the mostly deserted sidewalk.

“Cut the shit, kid, or I’ll put Heather on the phone. She’s itching to discuss when you’re gonna settle down with a good woman.”

“This is why you shouldn’t let her read all those romance books. She’s got fairy tales and happily-ever-afters floating through her head.

“First of all, I don’tletmy wife do anything. She’s a strong, independent woman.”

“Damn straight,” she said in the background.

I should have known Heather was hovering within earshot of our conversation. The woman had no qualms about butting into my life. She’d earned the right years ago when they’d taken me into their home.

“Second, what’s wrong with finding the right person and living your best life?”

“You know I’m not built that way, Jas.”

“You aren’t him, Keaton.”

Every year we had the same conversation, and quite frankly, I was over it. Did I envy his and Heather’s relationship? Absolutely. It just wasn’t in the cards for me. With my father’s DNA coursing through my veins, I couldn’t—wouldn’t—take the chance. Something snapped inside of him, and I’d live my life without the other half of my soul if that’s what it took to keep me from turning into the same monster he became.

“And I never will be, so let’s move on, shall we? How are things?”

After the lengthy trial and my father’s subsequent conviction for eight counts of first-degree murder, we discovered he’d listed me as the co-owner of Renshaw International. The minute I turned eighteen, I appointed Jasper as the new CEO and except for the hefty deposit into my checking account every month, I kept my distance.

We spent the next fifteen minutes shooting the shit, talking about different cases we were working on. I wasn’t paying attention because as I rounded the corner which led to my house, my feet hit something, causing me to trip.

“Motherfucker,” I snarled.

My knees throbbed where they’d smacked into the pavement. I could hear the alarm in Jasper’s voice, even from ten feet away where my cell had landed when it flew from my hand. Standing, I gingerly took a few steps to retrieve the phone, bending to pick it up off the sidewalk. I’d never been more grateful for the smooth-talking salesman at the Verizon store who convinced me to pay the ridiculous fee for the thin plastic protector as I noted there wasn’t a single crack on the screen.

“Answer me, Keaton. What’s going?—”

“I’m fine,” I huffed, cutting off his tirade. “Just tripped over something.”

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