Page 37 of Malice

“Okay, so how did you know Chester was coming for me?”

“There’s a tracking system. We knew it was breached and we had some ideas of where he might go. Do you remember the first day I asked about two people?”

“Yes.”

“We weren’t sure which one was coming to you, but we knew you were a target. I don’t know much about that system so I’m not sure how it really works, I just know I was assigned to help.”

“Do you like it?”

I pull up to stop at a light. I have no idea how to answer so I glance at Crash for guidance.

“Ooh, tough one,” Crash says. “Do you admit you’re new and freak him out or do you lie and tell him you love the work?”

“I’m not lying.”

Hudson narrows his eyes. “I didn’t say you were.”

“No.” I shake my head. “Honestly, I can’t answer that yet. All I can say is that I’m committed to resolving it.”

Hudson nods. “Okay. I don’t know you, but I believe you. As weird as it is, it’s the only explanation that makes any sense.” He reaches over and touches my hand. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too.”

The light changes and I drive on. Hudson stares out the window until we arrive back at his house. From the driveway, we both stare at the seemingly peaceful house, but we’re aware of what’s inside waiting for us.

“Do you know what he did?” Hudson asks, his voice soft. “To me?”

“Not entirely.”

“He tried to kill me. He was almost successful. He beat and strangled me until I passed out. Luckily he thought I was dead. My neighbor called the police and then he blew his brains out in my kitchen.”

“Oh my god, Hudson.”

“He stalked me relentlessly for sixteen months. When I moved to this house, I thought I’d got away, but he still found me. To this day, I have no idea why he was so obsessed with me. I don’t know why he wanted me dead. We barely dated.”

“People like that don’t make sense. Mental illness isn’t always logical.”

Hudson nods, meeting my eyes. “I want my life back, Aster. I want to go to sleep and not have nightmares. I want to take a shower or a walk or check my mail without looking over my shoulder. I want to learn to trust people again.”

I reach over and grip his hand. “You will. You’ll have all that. Chester can’t stay here. I’ll make sure of it.”

He blinks, nodding, then exhaling slowly. “I guess we can go inside now.”

“Yeah.”

I gather my things while Hudson scoops Otto out of his car seat. Crash trails behind us, his eyes focused on the house.

“Oh boy,” he says, lingering behind me while Hudson unlocks the side door.

“What?” I whisper.

“He’s big mad. Be ready.”

My heart sinks. “Awesome.”

We step inside to find the mudroom silent, but as we walk in farther, it’s clear that the house is anything but peaceful. I hurry through the kitchen into the living room to find books, vases, and other decor spinning in the air.

The other spirits of the house cower in the corner, except for one. The spirit appears to be a young girl, maybe around sixteen or seventeen. She’s wearing a long cream nightgown, and her long golden hair hangs in a single braid down her back.