by Lisa Freed
I ended up tossing the other two pillows into the garbage bag and felt like Santa when I threw it over my back to carry out to my SUV with the bucket of cleaning supplies and my purse.
Home sweet home. The rush I felt when pulling into my garage was no doubt intensified by that horrible visit with my parents, but still, being home never failed to thrill me. I left everything but my purse in the garage and tiptoed into the house.
Everything was neat and clean and I said a big thank you for Helen and that I never had to deep clean like I had today at John’s. Yes, I might be a tad spoiled in that regard, but oh well.
Going upstairs, my eyes flashed over the three closed doors of the bedrooms. I hadn’t told John about the fosters kept in the two guest rooms. First, I went to my room and peeked in, the bed was unmade and the room empty. Next up, the first guest bedroom and in it, I found John’s long form, stretched out on his stomach under the covers on the bed, dead asleep. Jean was snoozing curled up on the pillow on top of his head and Billy was resting on her back next to his hip. Aww…I would have taken a picture if I wasn’t afraid of the flash waking him.
I checked on Jill and she was thrilled to see me, running up crying when I opened the door. Picking her up, she purred and bumped her head into my chin. “Hey, Jill, in a few days will set up the gate to let the others get used to you and you to them, okay?”
I had found the best way to introduce cats was going by the book and taking it slow. Keep them separated but able to hear and smell each other through a door for two weeks, then do a gate in the doorway, making sure it was high enough that they couldn’t jump over it. That was tricky, so I found two gates on top of each other worked there. During that time, I would take things from the resident cats and place it with the new cat and the same for the new one. That way, the other cat's smell would get on them. If all went well then, I could let the new one out for a limited time, working it up to longer each day. If it didn’t go well, ugh, time to start from square one.
Agnes was a super chill cat and didn’t mind Maverick and Daisy joining our happy family at all. But a few months after getting them, I had tried to bring another male cat home to foster and that set Maverick off. He simply wouldn’t tolerate not being the only boy. Since I didn’t want my entire house to smell of cat pee, I had backed off and given up on ever having another male here, even as a foster.
So far so good with the presence of three additional female foster cats so I was super hopeful all three of my cats would accept Jill when the time came.
Placing Jill down I checked on her food and water, cleaned her litter, spent some time playing with a shoestring with her and then said my goodbyes. I was in need of a good hot shower.
When I went downstairs again, feeling loads more relaxed, I found John in the living room eating a bowl of cereal with Daisy in his lap and Agnes next to him on the couch. His warm blue eyes flashed a greeting as he smiled with puffed out cheeks full of breakfast for dinner.
“Hey, thank you so much, John.” I sat down on the other end of the couch, reaching out to stroke on Agnes.
After he finished chewing John asked, “How did it go?”
“Horrible beyond belief.”
John placed his empty bowl down on the coffee table, with a hand around Daisy so she wouldn’t fall off his lap as he leaned forward. “Sounds great,” John said with a laugh settling back into the couch.
“They gave me some of their fake essential oils and told me their grand plans to be foster parents.”
The smile fled from his face as his mouth formed an O of shock. “No way! Them wanting more kids? They never bothered with the ones they had.”
“Tell me about it. They only want to do it for the money. Dad let that slip and Mom quickly tried to rationalize it but that’s all it is for them, another scheme to feather their nest.”
“Think they’ll qualify?”
I gave John a look and he laughed.
“Of course not,” he answered his own question.
“Exactly, that’s why I’m not more concerned about it. Still made me mad though.”
John lifted Agnes from between us and placed her next to him and then transferred Daisy over too, then he slid closer and wrapped an arm around me pulling in closer for a one-sided hug. “Sorry, T. They suck.”
Resting my head on John’s chest and smelling his musky, sleepy smell I closed my eyes, feeling warm and safe. We stayed like that for a moment and then I felt the shift before he spoke and mentally braced myself for what I knew was going to be a very hard but much-needed conversation.
Lifting me from him, John’s face was serious as he held one of my hands in his bigger, callus-roughened one. “T, I know things were a mess between us for a while. You and Lance, going off to Greece, but I’m glad everything is calming down again.”
My mind flashed to the current mess of Victor/Adrian, Victor’s father, and the deal with that rat Mateo. But I knew not to mention any of that and worry John. So I kept it simple, “Yeah, I’m glad too.”
John’s t-shirt clad chest puffed out as he took a deep breath and as he exhaled his eyes sought mine. I knew he was gearing up to say something big and I was desperate to stop him. “The cats seem so happy at your place. Thanks again for fostering them.”
“No, T. We need to talk.”
I bit my lip. How could I tell my best friend that I couldn’t give him what he wanted? My mind returned to Aunt Prudy’s advice on kissing John and making him happy. And I knew that we could be happy together but yet still something held me back.
“John, I just don’t want to ruin what we have and lose my best friend,” I said honestly. Hot tears ran from my eyes down my cheeks as my nose did that dreaded burn when I was about to emotionally explode. My breathing sped up and desperately I leaned forward to grab the tissue box off the coffee table in front of us.
“Teresa, you would never lose me.” John’s hand grabbed at the wad of used tissues in my hand and he plucked a clean one from the box to gently pat my face dry.
His efforts were wasted as more tears welled at his sweet words and dripped down on his hand. With a groan, John hauled me up against him, wrapping both his muscular arms around my back.
I sobbed into his shoulder as he rocked us back and forth slowly. Warmth and strength flowed through me from him. He was such a good, good man.
When I finally got myself under control, I rubbed at my leaking nose with the edge of a sleeve and swiped under both my eyes with my knuckles. Scooting back from him, I felt his arms drop and the sense of security and safety went with them. For a second, I desperately wanted those feelings back. In his arms, I had felt like nothing the world threw at me mattered. Now that they were gone, all my problems pressed down on me again.
But I would face them like I always did.
“Better?” John asked gently, his deep voice hoarse.
“Thank you,” I said trying not to dissolve into tears again.
His blue eyes locked on mine, forcing me not to look away, “For you, anything.” Then he stood, grabbing his bowl and walking away. “I’ll be back,” he called over his broad shoulder as his bare feet thumped down the hall.
When he returned, the pain in his eyes, pain that I caused, was hidden. Once more he was just good old friendly John. Sitting down next to me on the couch again, he put some space between us and Daisy took the opening to walk over his sweatpants-covered lap to stretch out between us. John’s hand reached down to stroke her velvety soft ears and his words were directed downward though they were for me. “You know I can’t give Max and Mr. Mango back.”
A real smile spread across my face. “I know, that’s why you’re one of the good ones.” I gave him a friendly punch in the arm.
His dark lashes swept down over his eyes, but not before the flash of pain in them told me that had been the wrong thing to say.
“Yup, that’s me,” John said, opening his eyes but not looking at me. “Shame good guys finish last.”
“No!
John, that’s not true,” I argued.
John stood again, looking out the windows on the far side of the room. “I better get going.”
Despite it all, I wanted to keep talking, make him see that my perceived rejection of him as a partner wasn’t a dismissal, and I didn’t see him as less of anything. He was such a great guy; the problem was with me. It was always me.
“Goodnight, T,” John said, not even waiting for me to walk him to the door. He let himself out and I just sat there watching him go, my fingers clenched in my lap.
Agnes’s sudden cry in my ear brought my head around to her sweet little face. Gliding my fingers through her silky fur I asked her, “Why can’t life ever be simple?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
As loud knocks echo through the house, I was drawn back to that evening several months ago that had been the ending of my mostly peaceful life. I had answered those pounding knocks and Lance came barreling through my door. But it hadn’t really been Lance, it had been Victor possessing Lance’s body. My life hasn’t hadn’t been the same since and part of me screamed at me not to answer the door. To instead go quietly upstairs, get into bed, and finish my book there.
As I got slowly to my feet, I swayed slightly, my hands reaching out for balance. The book, discarded cover-side down, my page lost. I was unaware if it was my psychic sense urging me to the door or yelling to run upstairs but I walked to the door and opened it.
Both Mateo and Adrian were standing there. The former grinning broadly, handsome and charming while the latter was paler than ever, his dark eyes begging for something I don’t comprehend. Seeing the two men together, my vision clouded over. I gasped for breath, gulping like a fish until suddenly icy air rushed at me, filling my starving lungs. Only then did I notice Andre Sr lurking behind them, his arms gesturing wildly, as he shouted out at the universe. Sadly, I was the only one that could hear him and I hadn’t a clue what he was saying.
My frozen lips lifted in a smile of greeting as I forced myself to greet them. “Mateo, I thought you were in Greece.” My voice quivered, stumbling over his name.
His grin widened displaying almost all his teeth. “We can stop playing games now. Move aside, we’re coming in.”
Mateo shoved Adrian forward and only then did I see the black object in his right hand, a gun.
“Into the living room,” he demanded, prodding him in the back with the gun.
I followed along, keeping my distance from the two men, with Andre Sr trailing along behind me.
“Sit down,” Mateo ordered Adrian, pushing him to the couch. “No funny business or I shoot Teresa.”
My gaze lifted to Mateo’s face and it was easy to see he was serious, his face looked as if it was made of wax, its cruelty carved in every pane. How I had ever believed him to be charming and funny showed how naïve I really was.
Andre Sr moved to stand near his grandson, he was quiet, his dark hooded eyes locked onto Mateo, following his every move.
I can saw beads of sweat on Adrian’s face, if he was scared, I should be terrified. And I was, yet this felt unreal. How did any of us end up here? I needed to understand.
Taking a small step forward, I waited to see Mateo’s next move. His gun swung slowly between me and Adrian. But my gaze was transfixed by the opening in the barrel, an inky mist spilled out of it, swirling around the gun and Mateo’s hand.
How was Mateo not noticing this? I looked at Adrian but his eyes were closed, his mouth clenched into a thin line. Andre Sr caught my eye and gave me a slow nod that I didn’t understand but I was suddenly glad for his presence.
Swallowing hard, I asked, “Why are you doing this, Mateo? Why am I involved?”
Dark eyes roamed over me, and crazily enough what seemed to be genuine affection was in the smile he gave me. “You have no idea my joy at finding you. Someone who shares my powers, someone who understands the nightmare of being hounded by needy spirits and people constantly wanting to use us.” He chuckled, running a hand along his neatly trimmed beard. “But I had to be careful, that’s why I couldn’t permit you to touch me or give in to my own temptation to feel your skin. I knew I couldn’t hide my lies from you.”
My eyes narrowed as I took in what he was saying. “What’s so different this time? I felt nothing from you, no thoughts, no emotion, nothing.”
The wolfish grin flashed again, the gun firmly on Adrian now, who continued to be motionless. “I wanted to touch you this time, but I had to block my thoughts and feelings from you.” He stepped closer, his tongue coming out to swipe at his lower lip which glistened with saliva. “But now I can come completely clean with you. With your money, we can live like kings.”
My face must have betrayed my thoughts as Mateo laughed. “Oh, I know about your lottery winnings. But that’s not why I want you, that just sweetens the pot. The fact that Victor here loves you makes this just perfect revenge against the family.”
“I don’t understand, what did Victor ever do to you?” I cried out. “He died before you were even born!”
The gun turned on me, that inky darkness trailing up Mateo’s arm now. “Sit down on the couch, get comfy as I tell you a little story.”
I followed directions, my hands limp in my lap, though I so wanted to reach out for Adrian just for some comfort and hopefully a squeeze telling me it was going to be okay.
“So, why am I doing this? Why do I hate the Michaelides’ family? It must be so confusing to you, but I’m sure once you are enlightened, you will fully understand, and possibly shed a few tears for my family. Isn’t that right, Andre?” Mateo’s eyes looked at the elder ghost gleaming with malevolence.
Part of me had forgotten Mateo could see spirits the same as I could. In Greece, he had claimed to be able to block them out and the sight of Andre Sr had upset him. No doubt that had been a ruse to confuse and divert me.
“Oh yes, I know of your dad,” Mateo directed that to Adrian. “Or your grandfather, if you would prefer.” He let out a hoot of laughter. “This couldn’t have worked out better if I had planned it.”
“I get revenge for my family and wipe out the Michaelides family in one swoop.” He fell silent, no doubt savoring his victory, then his eyes whipped back to Andre Sr. “How does it feel, old man? Knowing that a few decisions have brought about all this? Then again, what’s one more life to you? Or even a dozen more. You should carry the mark of your evil in death, you would be covered in blood if you did.”
Pulled in by his words, my eyes went to Andre Sr to gauge his reaction. The old spirit just stood there, his once powerful shoulders back as he stood up straight, facing his accuser head-on.
“You mentioned I couldn’t have known Victor, Teresa, and you are correct. But my grandfather, Savas, he knew Victor quite well. Isn’t that right?” Mateo leaned forward and jabbed at Adrian’s shoulder with the flat of his left hand.
“Yes, I did know your grandfather, he was a good man. Shame his grandson isn’t.”
Mateo’s tightly clenched fist shot out and I heard the crunch of Adrian’s nose breaking a moment before I felt the splash of his hot blood on my face. I couldn’t stop the scream that tore out of my throat, as I clawed at the sticky liquid on my skin, trying desperately to remove it.
The harsh sound of Mateo’s enraged breathing filled my ears as he loomed over Adrian and I. “Maybe if my grandfather hadn’t been taken from me, I would have had a different life!” he snarled, the black mist diving into his opened mouth.
“My grandfather was on the yacht that day. Do you think those rich snots piloted it themselves? No, my grandfather did! After they killed you, they killed him. But nobody mentions him. They acted like he wasn’t even there! When my mother went to the house, they told her he was a shiftless drunk who had never shown up! Instead of giving her money to support herself and her siblings, they insulted her and my grandfather. She implored Andre Sr but he believed his son over her.”
Andre Sr began to speak, his hands open in a beseeching gesture. I
couldn’t understand what was being said and Adrian, sitting next to me with blood dripping down his face, couldn’t see or hear the spirit.
“Oh, yes, you’re sorry now,” Mateo roared. “But it’s too late. Forty years too late to be exact.”
The black mist weaved in and out of Mateo’s mouth and nose and I feared time was running out for Adrian and me. Hoping for a miracle, I stalled the only way I knew how. “How does Brianna figure into all this?”
“That is an excellent question, Teresa. I’m a real psychic, that’s how. Brianna has been batshit crazy for years! She’s hired others in the past but I’m the only one that delivered. Having Victor’s ghost take over Adrian was perfect. I can’t stand that selfish prick!”
My brow furrowed. “You were never trying to get him back?”
“Get him back?” Mateo rocked back with the force of his laughter, choking on it. When he got himself under control his dark eyes leaked tears. “Whatever gave you that idea? This is all too perfect. All the guilty parties are made to pay. Andre Jr and Brianna killed my grandfather and Victor. By all accounts, Victor was a horrible person in life and in death he has killed Adrian.”
All Mateo was saying was the truth but…this was still wrong…so very wrong.
“See, nicely wrapped up. I dispose of Adrian here, give Brianna a call, who in turn, blows Andre Jr away as she’s convinced this is all his fault and then Brianna turns the gun on herself. We can stay here if you like, or travel.”
My skin crawled remembering how I had been so eager for his attention and affection before. That I had let him kiss me…my nose crinkled in disgust. “No,” I shouted at him.
Mateo’s face twisted frightfully. “You think you are somehow above me? You used your powers for your own selfish desires.” He held out his left hand and with the right, ticked off a finger with the gun as he listed my crimes. “Money. Lance. Did you think using his body was ethical? You can blame Victor all you want, but you went along with it. I witnessed with my own eyes what a mess the man was after Victor’s last possession of him.”