Page 52 of Death Wish

I glanced out the stained-glass window, the tinted glass painted the street and sidewalks outside in beautiful shades of color.

“Sorry, did I hit on something I wasn’t supposed to?” Cole asked with genuine concern in his tone. “I didn’t mean—”

“No, no, you’re fine.” I rubbed my lips together, searching for the right answer to his question. “Honestly? I don’t know why I care so much… I want to move on. I do. It would make things so much easier for me, but I just can’t.”

The need to know who I really was before my death was like a constant ache in my chest I couldn’t shake. It was difficult to explain—even to myself sometimes—but without knowing, I couldn’t be whole.

I couldn’t be me.

“Hey, I get it,” Cole said after a long moment. “We all have our things. If anyone can understand chasing a seemingly impossible dream, it’s me.”

I traced the tabletop’s line pattern with my fingertip to avoid his gaze. “Yeah, guess so.”

We remained quiet until the food came. I was shocked by the heap of pancakes, sausage, and scrambled eggs on my plate. Cole didn’t even flinch. He started shoveling the food down the moment the plate touched the table. I, on the other hand, didn’t know where to begin. It’d been so long since I’d touched real food, but the smell of smoky pork and buttery pancakes was enough to make my stomach growl loudly. I might not be ready to eat real food, but my insides were saying something completely different.

I cut into a sausage link first and put a small chunk into my mouth. A rainbow of flavors exploded on my tongue, causing a flickering in my memory with every bite. Ravenous hunger hit me like a blow. I cut another piece and shoved it in my mouth before even swallowing the first. Again, that same tingle of familiarity signaled in my brain, still too far away to place but close enough to make me want more.

Another delicious bite, another dip into the past.

“Whoa there. Slow down,” Cole said. “You’re going to choke if you keep that up.”

He pushed the mug of black coffee toward me. “Why don’t you drink something to wash that down?”

After taking the cup, I chugged a big gulp of the burning, bitter liquid so fast, it scalded the back of my throat. I coughed, spitting some of it back up.

Cole handed me a napkin, and I took it and wiped up my shame.

“I probably should have mentioned it would be hot,” he said sheepishly. “Maybe you should try some cream and sugar, too.” He pushed the cream container and some sugar packets toward me.

I smiled, even though my cheeks were burning from embarrassment. “Thanks.”

“I told you the food was good here.”

The way he was staring at me, with his small side smile and his blue eyes sparkling as they searched my face, made my breath catch. Sure, I’d been hit on by my fair share of scumbags. Even in the afterlife, guys will try anything to get in your bed, and I’m ashamed to admit that it worked for some. But none of them ever looked at me the way Cole was looking at me now—like I was some prize he couldn’t wait to win. A goal, a challenge, something he had wanted to claim for a long time, and now that it was sitting in front of him, he’d do anything to get it. It made a shiver race down my spine.

The familiar blurrrinngg of a cell phone sounded. Cole whipped his out of his pocket and answered before it could ring again. “Sean, what’s up? Did you find out anything?”

I couldn’t hear Sean on the other end, but from the pleased look on Cole’s face, Sean was telling him things he wanted to hear.

He waved his hand to the passing waitress, Jill, and mimicked writing with a pen. She handed him the one from her apron pocket with a flirtatious smile, but he snatched it and began scribbling on a napkin without even noticing. She scowled and walked away.

“How confident are you that this is it?” Cole said to Sean. There was a moment’s silence. “That’s good enough for me.”

More words from Sean that I couldn’t hear, but I was assuming it had something to do with the things we were going to find. Wyatt and Sean must have found something else out during their research.

“Do you think Marla’s still open?” Cole’s lip turned up in disgust at her name. Another “friend” of his, I was guessing.

“No, no, don’t call her. I don’t want her to know I’m coming. She’ll never let me in.”

But then, he glanced up at me, and a slow, calculated grin lifted his lips. I could see the devious idea as it was forming in his mind.

“But…” he drawled, “she doesn’t know Jade.”

Oh no. What was he getting me into now?

Eyes glittering with the same mischief and determination as before, he hung up the phone.

My stomach flipped with uneasiness. Right then, I decided that I didn’t like that look after all.

Not in the slightest.

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