Page 74 of Switch
A laugh escapes me.“You’re ridiculous, Keeper.”
“You love it.”
I laugh again, though I’m fixating on the word he just used.Love.But then he shakes loose of my hand and gets behind me, one hand clamping over my mouth.
“Not fucking around this time,” he whispers.“Shut up.”
I suppose it doesn’t speak well for my sense of self-preservation that I was focusing more on PJ than our surroundings.What I didn’t realize is that we’ve come upon a small cluster of houses, and beyond them looms a crumbling industrial complex.There’s a short service road leading from the tracks to what must be the old canning factory we’ve been looking for.At least, I assume so, since the faded sign out front says B ll Arg eaches.
At some point someone painted over what used to be the word peaches with spray paint.Now it says “bitches.”
At the corner of the building there’s a small glow, almost like a firefly.Eventually, I realize what I’m seeing is a man smoking a cigarette.He appears to be walking back and forth, patrolling the area.When he gets closer to a floodlight at the front of the building, I can see he’s got an automatic rifle slung over his shoulder.Thank goodness we’re in shadow.The flickering streetlamp near us probably works to our advantage, since any movement a person might see could be written off as a trick of the light.
Speaking of light, there’s suddenly a flood of it as a bay door is rolled up, revealing two men and a bustle of activity, people moving and stacking boxes behind them.The two who aren’t stacking walk outside, outlined clearly.One seems to be hanging off of the other, sort of like maybe he’s drunk, or maybe that’s affection?It could be, I suppose.
“I can’t tell if it’s him,” PJ whispers.His fingers clench tighter around my arm.“The one guy looks to be the right height and weight, but I can’t see his face.”I guess he’s talking about the taller, thinner man.I assume so.When the other one, shorter, stockier, wearing a suit of all things, turns his head to light up a cigarette, I get a good view of his face.
All the breath leaves my body.
Because even when PJ and I discussed the possibility of Marina’s brother being alive, I didn’t believe it.Not really.I’d seen his body, after all.There was no way.Except there he is, standing close enough to see his face.
My knees lock.My vision swims.Grabbing PJ is the only thing keeping me upright.
“He’s going to kill me,” I whisper.
Because the ghost is real.Eric Leslie is alive.
ChapterTwenty-Three
PJ
We staggerinto my apartment on aching feet, where we’re greeted by a cranky Jojo—“Fuck off, goodbye!”—and an enthusiastic Bruiser.He’s gotten better at walking as he’s grown, but he still flops over onto his side when he reaches us.
After taking Bruiser out for a bathroom break, I leave Fallon to tuck the puppy into his crate for the night.Meanwhile, I peel off my sweaty clothes and step gratefully into the shower.There’s hot water, which isn’t always a given in this building, but I need to wash off either way.
I’ve gotten as far as shampooing my hair when Fallon climbs in behind me.Before I know it, I’ve turned to him, pulling him into my arms.
“Are you okay?”
He shakes his head against my shoulder.“Even having seen him, I don’t want to believe he’s actually alive.”
“You were really sure Marina killed him?”
“I saw the body, PJ.I helped her…” His eyes widen as he realizes what he’s said.Or almost said.
“You helped her get rid of the body.”I nod as understanding dawns.“That’s why you were so sure he was dead.Something must have happened.Maybe he faked it somehow.Did you guys check for a pulse?”
“I’d literally gotten off a plane that night, gotten a ride to her parents’ house, and walked in to see him lying there on the kitchen floor.She told me he was dead.Helookeddead.I should have checked for a pulse, but I wasn’t too thrilled about the idea of touching him.Whatever she gave him, he’d thrown up all over himself.We needed to get him out of there in a hurry before we woke one of her parents up.Taking him as far as a restaurant dumpster on the outskirts of town was bad enough.”
Ew.I drop my face to his chest, kissing his wet skin.“I promise your secret is safe with me.”
Fallon chuckles, but it’s a nervous one.“I’ve never told anyone.It was a secret between me and Marina.”He searches my face, like he’s looking for a sign I’ll turn on him.“Later, right before she died, we fought on the phone.She basically told me if we hadn’t had the shared trauma of Eric’s murder, we might not have stayed together so long.”
“I killed one of my mom’s boyfriends.A dealer who was dumb enough to use his own product.Smothered him with a pillow one night after he’d gotten fucked up and knocked her around.Then I called in an anonymous tip to the cops that she’d been selling drugs to kids.That’s how she got caught selling to a cop.”
For a moment Fallon’s silent.Wide-eyed and eerily still.Slowly, he brings a hand to the side of my face.“You set your mother up to go to jail?”
My chest burns at the memory.“It was the only way to keep her safe.She was a good mom once.Used to take me to the park and make me cinnamon rolls from a can on Saturday mornings.Once she got in deep with the drugs and the guys, though, I realized it was the only way for her to get clean.We don’t talk much anymore, but the last time I saw her, she was doing a lot better.”
