Page 2 of Hearts of Stone

I still was. I knew that, despite his continued put-downs. I’d got great grades in year 12 and I’d had my pick of universities to attend, but I’d walked away from all of them for him. I stared at the perfectly shaved jaw, those dark eyes and tried to see why. It seemed not that long ago that he’d been my best friend. We’d shared our hopes and dreams over countless bowls of two minute noodles, because we couldn’t afford anything else. We’d talked about how it would be when he made it. He’d be wearing the kinds of high end clothes he was wearing now, we’d be livingin a place like this and then, finally, it’d be my turn. Everything I’d done to ensure his success would be repaid in full and I’d…

“Iamsmarter than that,” I replied firmly, feeling my spine lengthen. “I’ll take a look and see if there are any new ads for places I can afford, but if there aren’t…” I pulled in a breath. “Then I’ll move home by the end of the week.”

He spluttered inarticulately, because I think he’d realised what I’d just worked out. I’d still been covering for him, still carrying him, even if, now, it wasn’t financial support. But I didn’t have to do that anymore. I didn’t owe him anything. I nodded to myself as I turned on my heel and walked away from my ex.

Under the expensive waterfall shower,as I scrubbed myself clean, it felt like all the bullshit I’d been carrying for months went swirling down the drain along with the soap and shampoo. I felt lighter, brighter, and yet somehow naked as I stepped out onto the bathmat and dried off. I got dressed in my supermarket uniform, applied a full face of makeup, before catching the train into work. As I walked in through the doors of the store, I saw a familiar face.

“What’re you doing here this early? You shit the bed?”

Daniel, my best friend and my rock through all of the Trevor bullshit, walked away from his supermarket register and threw his arms around me, much to the consternation of the customers waiting in line to check out their groceries. They shot him daggers, but Danny boy never gave a shit about other people’s reactions. My eyes went wide as I heard the last bit, though, and I shoved an elbow into his ribs in retaliation.

“Jesus, Danny!”

“I’m glad you’re finally acknowledging me as your lord and saviour,” he said, going back to the checkout and scanningMrs Hamilton’s groceries at lightning speed. “Because I have a proposal for you.”

My teeth sank into my lip, remembering what Trevor had decreed I needed to do tonight instead of sleeping on ‘his’ couch.

“I’ve got one for you, too.”

“Yeah?” He shot me a wild smile as crazy spikes of bright blue hair fell in his eyes. Mrs Hamilton was glaring even harder, as if the colour, which I believed was called Arctic Blue, was somehow more offensive than her own lavender-rinsed locks.

“Does yours involve ghosts?” he asked, with an impish grin, “Because, bitch, I got us two tickets for a ghost tour of that old psych ward. I’ve been telling you about it for weeks and they had a last minute cancellation…”

He had been talking about this tour ever since he’d heard about it. He’d told me about it in an excited rush, then mentioned it at least once a week and I’d tried my best to match his energy. Danny was my best friend, ride or die, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to put the ‘die’ part to the test. The thought of a ghost tour did not fill me with joy. While Danny was fascinated by the paranormal, I couldn’t even watch horror movies without having nightmares for weeks. But then he delivered the coup de grâce.

“We’ll head out after work and go and ghost hunt—it only goes for an hour—then on the way home we’ll grab pizza, and you can crash at my place.”

Z Ward was the old jail for the criminally insane. It’d been empty since the 1950s, the building left to moulder on the edges of some fancy estate. Apparently people paid good money to go there after dark, where, with nothing more than torches, they hunted for signs of ghosts while hearing stories of how people died there. Personally I’d rather scoop out my eyeballs with a rusty spoon. While Daniel loved horror movies, I would spend almost the entire time we watched them with my face buried ina pillow, and then I still couldn’t sleep afterwards. Going to a haunted psych ward sounded like hell, but when I compared it to another night listening to the dulcet tones of Samantha faking an orgasm in Trevor’s bedroom, I decided a ghost tour was infinitely preferable.

“OK,” I said with a firm nod of my head, “you’re on.”

Chapter 2

“So, what does one wear when ghost hunting?” I asked Daniel, later that night, when we made a stop at Trevor’s apartment to find something suitable for me to wear.

We were both pawing through the boxes of my stuff that were lined up along the side of the living area. Trevor hated it, saying how messy it made the open plan apartment look but, as he was the one who’d shoved all of my worldly goods into boxes the minute we’d split up, and then pushed the boxes out of the bedroom that we’d shared until that night, he hardly had grounds to complain.

Didn’t stop him though.

“Those black combat boots I gave you a couple of years ago,” Danny said, looking me up and down. “The jeans that make your arse look amazing.” He threw a pair at me, forcing me to catch them. “Something cute but warm on top.” He waved a finger around in the air. “Maybe that hoodie with the little cat ears on it, but keep it zipped low.” He cupped the air around my breasts. “Gotta let the girls breathe a little.”

“Are we hunting ghosts or guys?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

He had tried to set me up a few times since my split from Trevor, and each attempt had been disastrous. One guy had actually been there to try and get with Danny. Another had looked me up and down the moment I’d said hello and then he’d turned to Daniel, telling him I looked fatter than I had in the photo Danny had shown him, so he’d pass. And the last one? Clint had tried to launch himself at me the moment the lights went down in the movie theatre, his tongue lashing about wildly in his haste to get it in my mouth.

“Both, duh.” He shot me a withering look, then started cackling. “There’s nothing hotter than a guy who can put a scare into you and then follow that up with something big, long and throbbing.”

“Jesus, Danny…” I gave him a shove.

“Don’t knock ghost hunters until you try them. I met Gary when I went on that big ghost hunting tour in the cemetery.”

“The one who tried to sneak out of your place with your wallet after you fell asleep?” I asked.

He waved that small fact away.

“Then there was Neil—”

“Gave you crabs,” I reminded him.

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