Page 26 of Malice

Back at home, I enter a quiet house, gazing around as I stand in my foyer. It’s the same as it was when I left.

I remove my shoes then head over to sit on my couch. Aster’s card still sits on the coffee table, and I’m tempted to call the number listed as cell, but what would I say if he answered? ‘Hi, just want to make sure you’re a real person.’ That’s dumb.

Rising from the couch, I twist my neck back and forth before heading to the kitchen for water. I fill my glass and lean on the counter, staring out the window to the backyard.

The urge to poke at Chester’s potential ghost is strong, if only to prove that I’m not imagining it.

“If you can hear me, I’m gonna get rid of you, asshole.”

Nothing happens.

“Did you hear me, Chester? You can get fucked if you think I’m going to let you ruin any more of my life.”

I set my glass down, folding my arms over my chest.

“Don’t you have anything better to do now that you’re dead? Like sit on a fire poker stick?”

Suddenly the glass of water I was holding slides across the counter and shatters at my feet. I jump back as my heart races and a shiver runs through me.

“Asshole,” I mutter. “I’m not afraid of you anymore,” I lie. I’m really fucking terrified of him if he’s a ghost, but if all he can do is break dishes, that’s not so bad.

The side door flies open, slamming against the frame like it’s caught in the wind. Shit. I back out of the kitchen, but stop cold when it feels like I’ve hit a wall even though there’s nothing behind me. My breath turns frosty and the distinct foreboding feeling of being watched is back.

“Go away,” I murmur. “Just go.”

My feet tingle with numbness as if frozen to the spot, but then the coldness lifts and my body slumps as if I was wrapped tight in a blanket and released. Stumbling backward as my breath hitches, I swing my head around to look for evidence of someone being here, but the room is calm and still.

He’s gone.

At least for now.

Chapter 11

Hudson

My eyelids feel like lead weights. I couldn’t sleep for shit last night, and now making the bed in the guest room, all I want to do is climb in and go to sleep. It’s not the first night it’s been hard to sleep, but last night was far worse. I swore someone was in my bedroom standing over me, waking me up every few hours.

The sounds of furniture scraping across the wood floors and the stairs creaking didn’t help. After getting out of bed three times to investigate and finding nothing, and even moving to the guest room, I gave up, but that didn’t make it any easier to relax.

By the time the doorbell rings and Jocelyn arrives, I’m finally starting to feel better.

“Hey,” she says, stepping inside and hugging me. “You look exhausted.”

“Thanks.” I chuckle, taking her duffel bag. “I didn’t sleep well last night.”

“Therapist get to you?”

“Not sure.” I shrug. “There were a lot of weird noises in the house, or hell, maybe I was just imagining them. Apparently, the mind can do incredible things when under stress.”

Jocelyn tilts her head. “Not untrue, but I don’t really think that should be our first guess in this situation. I know the scientific world doesn’t want to give any credence to the supernatural, but I know for a fact that it’s legit.”

“You know for a fact that ghosts are real?”

“I mean, could I prove it in a court of law? No, but they couldn’t prove they don’t exist either. I’ve seen proof of it.” She gazes upstairs and rears back slightly. “Okay, yeah. There’s some stuff here.”

My chest tightens as I peer up the stairs, seeing nothing. “What do you mean there’s stuff here?”

“Energy. Remnants. Maybe even a spirit or two. Let’s dive in right now while there’s some active energy.”

---