I'll Be Damned (Anna Wolfe Series) (27 page)

BOOK: I'll Be Damned (Anna Wolfe Series)
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"About damn time you decides to come home," Martello says, peering up from his full glass of vodka with a tint of orange juice for color. Early morning might be considered a tad early for hard liquor, but I keep that observation to myself.

 

"I just got an earful from Valen," I respond, hoping he will skip the lecture.

 

"Well, girl, you had that boy frazzled,” Martello says before taking another sip from his glass. “Lordy, he was pacin’ back and forth with worry. I wanted to cut his damn legs off. That boy has a thang for you," he finishes with a wicked grin.

 

I snort. "I’m sure I ruined that after my stunt today," I answer with a cringe.

 

Martello's eyebrows arch, begging for more details. I don’t have the strength to delve into all of it again. All I want to do is sleep. "Is Kristy sleeping?" I inquire, noticing her absence. She could at least help me out.

 

"Sleeping? Girl, she went to work… you knows… to run your place? Someone has to be responsible," he says, laughing at a dig I don’t find funny. "Honey, I'm playin’. Come here and sit. I needs to know what happened last night."

 

I pour myself a glass of orange juice, minus the vodka and sit next to him. After a hearty chug, I recite the tale from beginning to end. Martello stares at me with suspicion. I drop my gaze, mesmerized by the half empty glass sitting in front of me. I study the pulp hanging on the sides of it.

 

He exhales. "Girl, I have no idea what to say." I look up to see him fanning himself with a napkin. It isn't overly warm in here, so I assume he's just being theatrical, as usual.

 

"What you did was stupid. You can't go runnin’ through the woods at night without tellin’ nobody. We was worried sick about you, wonderin’ how the hell we would find you," Martello lectures.

 

I hunker down in my seat, preparing for the long, tedious sermon to come. It was the least I could do for putting him in this position. "I know," I respond sheepishly. Martello stands, walks to the sink, and lightly places his glass in it. He turns around, and rests his hands on the counter before leaning on them.

 

"It was stupid. I was so excited to see Janie… to know she was okay. It never occurred to me it might have been a trap.” It was true, I underestimated my situation. “I should have known better. To be honest, I haven't taken any of this seriously… it’s hard to wrap my mind around the existence of demons, let alone that they want to kill me. Talk about a wakeup call."

 

"It’s a mighty large problem, but you have to take this seriously, Anna. You gets that book o’ yours an’ study it until you knows everything. Valen can only do so much,” Martello advises.

 

I’ve had enough prodding and reprimanding for one day. I excuse myself from the table, dragging my mentally and emotionally beaten self upstairs. Passing by Valen’s room, I’m exceptionally quiet. I’m not taking anymore chances in drawing unwanted attention today. After rinsing off Micah’s filth in the shower, I do my best to extinguish the cheerful light of day by drawing the curtains closed. I heave myself in bed, chasing after sleep, but it’s determined to dodge me. I toss and turn, replaying the disastrous circumstances I put myself in. There's no doubt I was stupid and not thinking clearly. What else was I supposed to do when I saw Janie? Ignore her? I would do it all again if the opportunity presented itself. Putting myself in danger is both selfish and self-sacrificing. Janie’s life depends on me, and if I didn't go, I’d still be wondering what happened to her. Nick's disappearance has my stomach in knots. I wonder if Janie knows?

 

My thoughts turn to Micah. His powers were so convincing, they scared and excited me at the same time. Tightness forms in my chest at the thought of remaining with him forever. I was almost captured by Micah’s thick persuasion. How did I let myself get lost? My life is on a collision course of confusion with no end in sight. By disregarding Valen’s and my family’s pleas, I put them and myself in danger. Tears pool in the corners of my eyes. I blink them back, but they insist on falling. One by one, they trickle down my cheeks, soaking them. I need to come to terms with my new life in order to save everyone else’s. Valen’s anger keeps creeping its way back into my thoughts. I don’t understand him. He cares, but always at a distance. Grumbling, I roll on my side, resolving to keep our interaction strictly business, since I don’t want to complicate things any further. I wipe the rest of my tears away with the back of my hand and pull myself out of bed. I can’t sleep.

 

I dress in comfortable jeans and a tight, tan polo. Sliding my feet into flop-flops, I peek at my reflection, and adjust whatever is amiss, which seems to be everything. I need to apologize to Kristy. Tonight, I’ll study the book that’s been collecting dust on my dresser. Quietly, I sneak by the closed door Valen is cocooned behind. I have to tackle my apology for him later, when I have more energy. I throw open the front door, gently clicking it closed behind me. I hop in my car, blast the air conditioning, and drive towards Savannah. Thirty minutes later, I park in my spot, delighted at the shortened amount of travel time. I enter through the back, and head straight for my office. I throw my purse and notebook on the desk, take a deep breath and walk to the front. Instantly, I spot Kristy behind the counter. She’s friendly as ever, engaging a customer in conversation. I pause, waiting for her to finish her discussion with the short, blond woman. As soon as she walks away, I stroll towards her. As if sensing me, she twists her head and smiles.

 

“Hey!” she grins with pleasure.

 

“Hey yourself,” I retort, smiling back hesitantly. I stand still, bracing myself to be scolded.

 

“Well, you have a bit of explaining to do,” she says, wagging her finger in my direction.

 

I exhale. She isn’t mad, thank goodness, but I know she's hurt. “I’m a complete idiot.”

 

“I think idiot is too intelligent for the stunt you pulled last night,” she replies with annoyance coloring her words.

 

“Kristy, I’m so sorry. When I saw Janie, I just took off! I didn’t rationalize anything. It was like my reasoning evaporated,” I sigh. “I’ve been underestimating everything,” I add with a groan. I feel horrible for allowing the people I care about to suffer because of my impulsive carelessness.

 

“I was concerned, but I know why you did it,” she shrugs. “I don’t blame you. I would have done the same thing. You know, Martello and Valen took it worse because they couldn’t protect you… the ‘Macho Man’ complex can be all-consuming,” she sighs. “Plus, Valen cares about you more than he should,” she finishes with a chuckle.

 

A warmth flickers inside me at the very thought of Valen harboring feelings for me, and my cheeks flush. Keeping him at arm’s length is going to be harder than I anticipated. “So you say. I don’t know. His emotions are impossible to read. One minute, he touches me, the next he recoils,” I stop, trying to find more to say. I lean onto the counter, dropping my head in my hands. “I hate mixed signals.”

 

“Anna, of course he cares for you! I can’t believe you are that blind,” she replies, bursting out in laughter.

 

My cheeks are glowing. Regardless of her observations, I’m not doing anything about it. I need to focus on rescuing Janie. I wave her off and grab a cup of coffee.

 

“So what exactly happened last night?” Kristy questions with a curved eyebrow.

 

I hate retelling a story. The feelings associated with it become diluted the more often it's told. I look around, making sure all of the customers are out of earshot. I motion for us to sit on the couch, which is far enough away from the few packed tables. Kristy follows me with enthusiasm. I take a sip of my piping hot coffee, coating my throat in its warmth. I start from the beginning when I first saw Janie, to gaining access to Micah’s chamber and finally, Valen’s heroic rescue. I inhale to tell her I’m finished.

 

“Micah was capable of doing that?” she asks with reservation.

 

I nod yes. “It was the oddest sensation. I didn’t feel like myself and I couldn’t stop him… I was uncharacteristically okay with everything,” I answer, slightly mortified.

 

“That is terrifying!” she says, slapping her palm against her chest. “If he can hijack your feelings, imagine what else he can do,” she adds with wide eyes.

 

“I know it’s scary. In fact, I’m lucky he didn’t do more, like spell me in restraints or something,” I reply with a tiny chuckle. “I still can’t believe all of this exists.” I rest my coffee on the table and sink into the couch.

 

“It’ll be okay, Anna. We’ll make things right again.”

 

Seeing that Kristy believes everything without blinking an eye is still shocking, but then again, she sees ghosts. “I hope so.”

 

Kristy senses how drained I feel, so she quickly changes the subject. We sit for another fifteen minutes, chatting about the new town gossip and trivial matters in the shop. I’m grateful for the diversion.

 

“What about you, Kris?” I question hesitantly. Bringing up her gift might not be the best idea, but I want to help her embrace it. “Are you still ignoring your gift?”

 

She shrugs. “Pretty much.”

 

I grab my warm mug, wrapping my hands around it for comfort. She’s seems reluctant about offering any additional information. I take another long draw from my hazelnut coffee before asking her another question. “So, do you see any right now?”

 

Kristy slowly scans the rooms, entertaining my curiosity. “No, but there is one out front looking in here… she’s here all the time,” she finishes.

 

Immediately I glance out the window. All I see are my customers and the occasional pedestrian strolling by. “That’s interesting. What does she look like?”

 

Kristy sighs. “She’s young, maybe in her teens, with light auburn hair. She always looks wet, like she was just swimming.”

 

I furrow my brows. Sounds to me like a drowning victim. “Maybe she drowned?”

 

Kristy nods in agreement. “Yeah, that’s the only explanation I come up with. Some ghosts are creepy, like this girl. They have a serious story, and when I see them, I feel like I’m invading their privacy, or witnessing a crime.”

 

I never thought of it that way. When she said she could see ghosts, I didn’t realize how important her gift is. She can provide closure to the living and the dead. “Kris, did you ever think they might need your help?” I whisper.

 

She laughs. “Anna, she can’t hear you,” she says, shifting uncomfortably. “Only people who see them can communicate with them,” she adds, pointing to herself. “And that’s only if they are acknowledged.”

 

“What if these ghosts are here because they were murdered? Or need closure? You might be able to help them… imagine all the good you could do.”

 

“Anna, I appreciate you cheering me on, but I’d rather not invite this into my life. I mean my family doesn’t even know about this curse,” she snorts. “If I help one ghost, dozens more will find me, and pretty soon I’ll be known as the certified nut job of Savannah.”

 

She has a good point. “I think it’s a tremendous gift. How about you mull it over for a bit?” I plead.

 

She takes a long sip from her coffee, visibly uptight at my suggestion. “I will, but my answer is very unlikely to change,” she smirks.

 

A customer slinks through the door and Kristy seems more than happy to rush to her aid. I don’t blame her for being dismissive; hell, look at me. I can’t get my life together and I’m preaching that she should be accepting hers. I shake my head, frustrated at myself for being that guy - the one who dispenses advice without taking it. The hours slowly creep by, allowing too many pockets of free time. Recurring thoughts of Valen and Janie plague my day. It's like a movie reel that’s stuck on a loop in my head. The pressure is building, threatening to explode any minute. Maybe I should go for a run after work to blow off some steam. That's if I get home at a reasonable time. I sigh, seeking the strength to stand up and do my job. I've never pitied myself for this long and it feels so unnatural.

 

Of course, when I was a child I threw tantrums, but this is ridiculous. I hate wasting valuable energy by allowing myself to drown in disappointment. When did everything get so complex? I muster the energy to work, only for Kristy to push me out of the door. I need my rest, she argues. I agree, but the challenge lies in trying to rest while my thoughts zip around my head like a NASCAR race. I thank her with a hug and head home. Now, more than ever, I wish for solitude. I need to regroup and figure out a way to tackle this head on after Micah’s encounter. It really flipped me upside-down. My level of stupidity is that of a teenager making poor decisions. I scold myself, knowing the situation could have been much worse. Why does he want me? I’m nothing special. The bright light shooting out of my palms flickers in my memory. Oh, I guess there
is
something in me he wants.
Good luck!
I think, snickering. I don’t even know what I am, never mind what the hell that light was. Who would have thought my early childhood nightmares would lead to this? I shake my head in disbelief.

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