“Ouch. That sounds horridly unpleasant.”
He lowered his head, regarded me from underneath his lashes. “Someday you’ll figure out I’m not like other guys.”
“Actually, I figured that out a while back.”
“Nothing and no one interests me besides you. But what’s the deal with the redhead?”
My stomach clenched at the thought of him even noticing Jessica’s red hair. He sucked in another sharp breath.
“Sorry,” I said, trying to get a hold of my sudden streak of jealousy. “We were friends in high school. It did not end well.”
The recognition on his face surprised me. “That’s her?” he asked, his expression hardening.
“Her? You know about her?”
He looked down at me, regarded me as though wondering how much he should say. “I could feel your emotions even back then. I didn’t even know you were real, but I could feel everything you went through growing up. Your stepmother was a constant source of pain. I considered breaking her neck several times.”
Horrified, I said, “I’m glad you didn’t.”
“I’m not. But that one.” He looked over at Jessica again. “I’ve never felt such pain from you. Such absolute devastation.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “Great. I would hate for you to be unaware of how gullible I am. How easily I can be duped.”
His features softened and he lifted my chin. “You trusted her. You believed you could tell her anything. That doesn’t make you gullible.”
I scoffed. “Kids, right? And besides, I have Cookie now.”
“Want me to sever her spine?”
“Cookie’s?” When he only smiled at me patiently, I shook my head even though his offer was so much more tempting than he could’ve imagined. Oddly enough, however, I didn’t hate Jessica. I hated what she did, who she’d become, but I hated worse the fact that even to this day, I wanted her friendship. Her acceptance. Her approval. She was like a redheaded version of my stepmother, and I was forever seeking that unconditional love that had been denied me. Pathetic as that sounded.
Except with Jessica, I’d had it. For a little while anyway. She was like the sun. We laughed and cried together. We cuddled and watched scary movies. We made pancakes and pizza and drank Kool-Aid from wineglasses. And we told each other our deepest and most guarded secrets. So at a sleepover one night, after she’d shared her belief that she once saw her grandmother’s ghost in her hallway, I shared with her as well. I told her I could see ghosts. She’d seemed fascinated. Intrigued. So I continued.
I hadn’t known at the time that I was, in fact, the grim reaper, but I told her about my abilities. How I helped my dad and uncle with cases by talking to the victims. How the departed could cross through me if they wanted to, a fact that boggled even my own malleable mind.
I’d gone too far. I’d scared her.
No, I’d lost her.
She seemed frightened at first, then repulsed. Revolted that I could be so inane as to believe I had superpowers. Her reaction surprised me so much, I didn’t argue when she called her parents in the middle of the night to come get her. When she refused to answer my calls the rest of the weekend. When she crusaded the next week at school to single-handedly have me branded a crazy witch wannabe. As sacrilegious and sanctimonious. I didn’t even know what sanctimonious meant at the time. If I had, I would’ve known where the true recipient of such an accusation stood. Oceans apart from me. In the blink of an eye, our friendship was over.
The second half of my freshman year was the hardest thing I’d ever gone through. The only bright spot I remembered was Reyes. I’d met Reyes. True, he was being beaten unconscious at the time, but it was still a pivotal moment for me. I thought back to the first time I’d touched him. He was doubled over, clinging to a Dumpster for support, dry heaving and coughing up blood. His muscles constricted with pain, corded around his arms, and I saw the smooth, crisp lines of his tattoos. A little higher, thick, dark hair curled over an ear.
Gemma had been with me. She’d raised a camera from around her neck to illuminate our surroundings, and Reyes, squinting against the light, lifted a dirty hand to shade his eyes. And his eyes were amazing. A magnificent brown, deep and rich, with flecks of gold and green glistening in the light. Dark red blood streaked down one side of his face. He stole my heart and I’d wanted him from that moment on.
“Where’s your head?” Reyes asked me.
I snapped back to him. “Sorry. Where were we? Right, no spine severing for you, mister.”
“You sure? She’s staring at me.” He hissed in another breath. Damn it. I had to get that shit under control.
“What do you want for lunch?” he asked.
“I ordered off the menu, actually. Sammy always made me huevos rancheros whenever I asked. They rocked. No pressure.”
He quirked a brow. “How would you like your eggs?”
I tried. I really did. But I glanced at his crotch and it came out anyway. “Fertilized?”
A wicked grin spread across his face. “It’ll be right out, ma’am.” He tipped an invisible hat and started for the kitchen.
“And if that man comes back to kill you, do not kill him back.”
“I can’t make any promises.”
“I mean it, Reyes,” I called out to him.
He winked right before the door swung shut behind him.