Page 20 of The Haunting of Lockton
“We’re touring the place tomorrow,” I said. “You said you saw him on the second floor?”
Taylor nodded. The fear in his hazel eyes appeared genuine. “Be careful. Not all ghosts are bad, but the ones at Lockton? I think they’re twisted, you know?”
“You say that like you’ve seen other ghosts,” Julian pointed out.
He smiled a little. “Maybe one or two.”
We asked Taylor a few more questions before wrapping up the interview. He and Julian exchanged numbers, and when I smirked at my brother, he refused to look at me.
Mhm.Nerds were my type. And his type was the beefy jock in front of us who just so happened to also be a damn bookworm like him.
“Not a word,” Julian muttered to me after Taylor left the table and was out of earshot.
“I wasn’t going to say anything.”
He cut his eyes at me. “Liar.”
I grinned. “I think you two make a cute couple. You—”
Julian smacked my bicep. “Don’t make me end you.”
“You wouldn’t unalive me, Jules.” I fluttered my lashes at him. “The world’s better with two of us in it.”
Julian huffed. “That’s what you think.” He checked his phone. “Wanna grab a late lunch and hit the library?”
“The library? Eww. Why?”
“Taylor said there’s records from Lockton.” Julian slipped the strap of his messenger bag over his head, wearing it across his body. “Since we can’t tour the asylum until tomorrow, we can utilize the time to learn all we can and better prepare ourselves. He mentioned the doctor. We can look him up too. See if we can find a name.”
Knowing an alleged spirit’s background could help during the investigation by letting us ask more personalized questions. It increased the likelihood of getting a response.
“Oh yay,” I muttered. “An exciting afternoon with dusty old books. I can’t wait.”
“You’ll get a cheeseburger and salty fries first.”
“Hmm. Fine.” We left the café area and headed toward the counter for him to pay for his stack of books. “It’s a date.”
***
“You owe me like five coffees and a box of donuts.”
Julian ran a towel over his damp hair. He’d just gotten out of the shower. “You’ll have to get up first. Can’t believe it’s almost eleven and you’re still in bed.”
“You made us stay at the library until close last night.Reading.My eyes hurt. My ass hurts from sitting so long in that hard chair. Everything hurts, Jules, and it’s all your fault.”
He lifted his hand and rubbed his thumb and index finger together.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Playing the world’s smallest violin.”
“I hate you.” I shoved the blanket off me and sat up. Once again, my brother kept the room like an icebox, and the assault of chilly air on my naked torso made me hiss and burrow back in the blanket. “God, why do you keep it like a morgue everywhere we go?”
“Oh stop. It’s notthatcold.”
“Tell that to the icicles clinging to my nose hairs. And my toes. They’re about to fall off, if they haven’t already. Why didn’t the heater kick on?”
“Because it’s off,” he said. “It’s not cold enough outside for the heater.”
