Rush

by Minard, Tori

  She looked up from my phone. “Is he the ex?”

  “Yeah. He’s an occultist.”

  “Really? What tradition does he practice?”

  “I have no idea. He took me to this drumming thing once, though.”

  “Hmm.” Her eyes sparkled. “He sounds interesting.”

  “He is.” And charming. And sexy. Very sexy.

  “I think you’re still in love with him,” she said. There was no judgment in her eyes, only acceptance.

  “Yeah,” I said. “But he lied to me.”

  I told her our story, right up to him pleading with me to hear him out. The whole time I was talking, I kept moving my fork across my plate, cutting my scrambled eggs and pancakes into tiny pieces. But I didn’t eat any of it.

  “It sounds to me like you should hear him out,” Jo said. “Give him a chance to explain.”

  “I can’t. What if he lies to me again?”

  “There’s always a chance your partner will hold something back from you, but Max wants you. He obviously didn’t only pursue you to get back at Trent, or he would have dropped you right away.”

  That was what Fred had told me.

  “I don’t know. I’ll think about it.”

  “Good. Now eat your food like a good girl.”

  I sighed. “Okay, I’ll try.”

  I forked up a bite of pancake and put it in my mouth, chewing gingerly. Part of me tasted it and knew it was good. That was the part of me that thought and felt the way I’d always—normally—thought and felt. But the me who was mourning the loss of Max couldn’t tell the difference between fluffy pancakes with maple syrup and sawdust. Mushy sawdust.

  I stuck another bite in my face to pacify Aunt Jo. She was right anyhow. I couldn’t continue taking in nothing but coffee or I’d make myself sick.

  Should I forgive Max? Should I call him and tell him I wanted him back? It seemed I’d be sending the message it was okay to lie to me. That I could be manipulated and used and I’d still hang around hoping for some affection. I’d known girls—even grown women—like that, and I didn’t want to be one of them.

  But it hurt so badly. I would never find another man like Max, never find anyone else I wanted as deeply, as hotly, as I wanted him. I feared was consigning myself to a sexless life if I didn’t take him back.

  A sexless but dignified life versus a passionate life lived at the mercy of a man who couldn’t be trusted. What a choice.

  I covered my sigh with a gulp of hot coffee. Dignity was better—I was reasonably sure of it. At least I wouldn’t be jerked around. Right?

  I’d lost the only man I’d ever met who understood my budding psychic abilities, the only man who’d never make a disparaging remark about them. But there had to be more men like him out there somewhere. Wolf, for example—not that I was romantically interested in him. It was the fact of his existence from which I had to take courage.

  Where Wolf and Max existed, there had to be more like them.

  Looking at Jo sitting across from me, I didn’t worry anymore about going off the deep end because of my abilities. Seeing her, well-dressed, well-spoken and sane, was a complete reassurance to me that my ghost sightings did not mean I’d lost my mind, and that knowledge lifted a burden from me I hadn’t been fully aware I carried. The weight of my fear of insanity melted away and with it, some of my pain.

  The grief was still there, but it was bearable now. I could move forward with my life. I would survive.

  Chapter 26

  Max

  I spent the night in Brad and Marie’s little guest room under the eaves. It still sported the same worn, little-girl quilt that had probably covered its bed for the past thirty or forty years. The thing was covered in a pattern of girls in giant, flowered bonnets and long, ruffled aprons, circa 1975.

  I didn’t mind the decor. The room was chilly and rain pattered fitfully against the window glass, but through the open door came the rich, dark smell of coffee. I could hear movement and voices downstairs. Brad and Marie were already awake.

  I got up and pulled on my jeans and shoes. I’d take a shower later. Right now, I needed some of that coffee.

  Caroline, and pain, lurked at the back of my mind, but I ignored them. My mental reprieve would only last a short while and I intended to make the most of them.

  The old, bare wood stairs creaked as I walked downstairs. I went into the kitchen and stopped short. Selene was there, sitting at the table and chatting with Marie while Brad cooked scrambled eggs on the stove top.

  Selene looked up at me with a huge smile. “Good morning, sleepy-head.”

  I grimaced. “‘Lo.”

  “Grumpy in the morning, huh?”

  Marie indicated the coffee-maker with a movement of her head. “Pour yourself a cup.”

  “I’m surprised to see you here, Selene,” I said as I opened a cupboard in search of a mug for my coffee.

  “Didn’t I tell you? I’m moving down here.”

  I turned to stare at her. “I thought you hated it here.”

  Selene shrugged, giving me a flirtatious look. “I decided to give it another try. Since Brad and Marie are here, and you, too. It’s gotten lonely up in Seattle.”

  “Hmm.” I turned back to the coffee.

  “Selene got here not long after you went to bed,” Marie told me. “I had to put her on the couch.”

  “Sorry about that.”

  “Oh, don’t apologize,” Selene said. “I heard about what happened.”

  Great. Now she’d renew her campaign to get me in bed.

  I brought my coffee to the table and sat down across from Selene. Next to her would be way too close; she’d probably try to grope me under the table or something. Brad finished with the eggs and started setting plates in front of us. There were home-made muffins to go with them.

  “You two get up really damn early,” I said. “But thanks. These look good.”

  “It’s farm life,” Marie said with a smile. “You know, roosters and all.”

  “I see.”

  “I heard the rooster this morning,” Selene said. “I could hardly believe it. A real rooster.”

  Marie laughed. “You’re not a country girl, huh, Selene?”

  “No.” Selene made a face. “I thought Seattle was a small town when I got there.”

  “Avery’s Crossing is going to be an adjustment for you, then,” Marie said.

  “Thank the gods for the Internet,” I remarked.

  They laughed.

  After breakfast was over and we’d cleaned up, Brad and Marie got to work on their endless farm tasks. I went back upstairs to put on one of Brad’s sweatshirts so I could help out. Selene shadowed me, grabbing my elbow on the upstairs landing and stopping me from going back into my room.

  “Max, I’m sorry about Caroline.”

  “Me too.” I turned toward the bedroom.

  “I’d be glad to, you know, keep you company. Help ease the pain.”

  “Thanks, but I’m fine.” I pulled out of her hold.

  She pouted. “You’re no fun these days.”

  “I love her, Selene. I’m not going to get over it in a day or two.” Probably not in a decade or two, either.

  She tossed her long, black hair. “She doesn’t deserve you. She’s not good enough for you and you’re better off without her.”

  I turned my face away from her. “You’re not helping.”

  “I’m just trying—”

  “I know what you’re doing and I appreciate your concern, but I don’t want a fuck buddy.”

  Her quick intake of breath told me I’d hit a nerve. And hurt her feelings.

  “Damn,” I said. “I’m sorry. But I can’t be your friend with benefits or one of your string or whatever it is you call your sex partners.”

  She laid a manicured hand on my arm. “Max, that’s not what this is about. I really care for you. And I don’t have a string anymore, especially since I just moved here. I don’t know anyone but you.”

&
nbsp; “I give you two weeks before you have a crowd of men following you around with their tongues hanging out.”

  She looked hurt. “You don’t think very highly of me, do you?”

  “I like and respect you. But you and I want completely different things out of a relationship. It would never work.”

  “No.” She shook her head. “I’ve changed. Honestly. I want to be exclusive. With you, Max.” She took both my hands as she stared soulfully into my eyes.

  Gods. The last thing I wanted to do right now was hurt Selene. She was a good, kind person whom I’d always liked, whether or not we were sexually involved.

  I squeezed her hands. “Thank you for being my friend. But that’s all I have to offer. I’m sorry.”

  Her dark eyes glistened as if she wanted to cry. She nodded, biting her bottom lip. “Okay. That’s okay. I understand. I—I’ll see you later.”

  Selene turned and ran downstairs. I seemed to do nothing but hurt the women in my life lately. My feet turned toward the stairs to bring me back to Selene and tell her I’d been wrong. That I wanted her. But I stopped at the edge of the staircase, knowing I couldn’t do it, that I couldn’t be with any woman but Caroline.

  The woman I loved wanted nothing to do with me. Fuck.

  Chapter 27

  Caroline

  Aunt Jo left in the afternoon to drive back up to Salem. I went back to my room to study. I’d been doing a lot of that lately, since there was nothing else to take up my time. Being boyfriend-free was going to be great for my GPA.

  I put on some classical music and curled up on my bed with the novel I was reading for French lit. Frankly, the story didn’t interest me much and even my beloved French language couldn’t make up for a dull tale, so it was slow going.

  By dinnertime, I was nodding off repeatedly. The book slid out of my hands and onto my comforter as I leaned my head back against my stacked-up pillows and closed my eyes. My decision about Max nagged at me every time my mind wandered, and it was wandering mercilessly at the moment.

  I shouldn’t call him. I shouldn’t even want him. But I did want him, with everything in me. That’s how weak and silly I was. The thought of a whole life without him was like preparing myself to live without my hands. Or my eyes. He felt that essential to me.

  God, what was I doing? I didn’t even know who I was anymore. No-one had ever been essential to me until him, so obviously I could get by on my own. I had to.

  A slight tremor in my bed made my eyes pop open. What was that? I’d been lying still, so I hadn’t caused the sensation. It felt like someone had shaken the frame. I braced my hands against the mattress, glancing nervously around the room for a sign of Retro-girl. I was alone.

  The bed vibrated again. I gasped. I’d actually been able to see it moving that time.

  “Who’s there? What do you want?” I said in a low voice.

  Naturally, there was no answer. At least, not one I could hear. Sweat trickled down my sides.

  The bed rattled and bounced in a frenzy of shaking. I let out a cry and jumped off the thing. It jogged back and forth like it was trying to get up and walk from the room.

  “Stop it!” I said.

  My coffee mug lifted off my desk and sailed toward my head. I ducked. It smashed against the wall next to the door, broken shards raining down on the carpet.

  “Holy crap.” Whatever this was, it seemed to be trying to hurt me.

  The textbooks I had stacked on my desk lifted, one by one, and hurled themselves at me. I dodged the first one, but the second slammed me squarely in the middle of my back.

  “Ow!” I grabbed my purse and ran from the room, panting.

  In the hall, I could hear banging coming from inside. The ghost, or creature, or entity—I didn’t know what to call it—was evidently still in there having its little temper tantrum. With shaking hands, I yanked out my phone and punched in Jo’s number. She’d probably know what to do.

  All I got was her voice mail.

  I leaned against the wall. Now what? Paige would be no help, and I sure didn’t want her getting hurt by a flying book or my extra coffee mug.

  The door across from mine opened and Ivy stuck her mousy brown head out to stare at me. “What’s going on in there?” she said, her eyes wide behind her glasses.

  “Oh, uh, well, it’s a ghost. I think.” I smiled lamely.

  Her eyes got even wider. “A ghost? You’re kidding, right?”

  “No, Ivy, I’m not.” My hand was still shaking as I lifted it to push my hair from my eyes. “It’s a poltergeist or something.”

  “Holy shit. That’s...that’s awesome!”

  My eyebrows shot up. “You think so?”

  “Yeah.” She sounded genuinely excited. “Can I look?”

  “If you want, but it threw a cup and a pile of books at me, so be careful. One of the books hit me in the back.”

  “Wow.” She edged out of her room and put her hand on my doorknob. “You sure it’s okay if I look?”

  Inside the banging continued.

  “Sure. Please yourself.”

  She opened the door a crack and peeped inside. “Oh. My. God. That’s incredible. I—” Words seemed to fail her as she stared at the wild show going on in my room.

  “Shit.” She recoiled and slammed the door. Something thumped hard against the closed portal. “It threw another book at me. A big one.” Ivy turned her head to look at me. “What should we do?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I guess...I’m going to have to call my boyfriend. I mean, my ex-boyfriend. He might know.”

  “Is that the guy who was sitting out here in the hall the other day?”

  She’d seen him? “Yeah, that’s the one.”

  “He’s hot. I can’t believe you broke up with him.”

  “Neither can I,” I muttered.

  I so didn’t want to call Max. Except I did. God, how I wanted to hear his voice, see his face, touch him. But that couldn’t happen—the touching. We had to keep this on the level of friendship only.

  I hit his number.

  “Kincaid,” he said in an impersonal tone, as if he hadn’t noticed my number on his phone.

  “Max, it’s Caroline.”

  Dead silence. Oh, hell, I’d done the wrong thing. He didn’t want to hear from me after all, and who could blame him after the way I’d talked to him.

  “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have bothered you,” I said quickly.

  “I’m just surprised. I didn’t expect to ever hear from you again,” he said.

  “Yeah. I didn’t think I’d call you.”

  Another uncomfortable silence followed.

  “So...” He finally broke the quiet. “What’s up?”

  “I seem to have another ghost problem. A poltergeist. Isn’t that what you call them when they throw stuff?”

  “That’s it.”

  “Something’s been rattling my bed and throwing books around in my room. It hit me with one of them.”

  “That sounds dangerous.” He sounded carefully neutral. There was no joy in his voice, nothing to show he was glad I’d called.

  “Yeah. I thought so.” I fidgeted nervously, trying not to glance at Ivy, who was standing there openly listening.

  “Is there something you want me to do about it?” Max said. “Because I can help if you want, but you’re going to have to ask for it.”

  “You want to humble me, is that it?”

  “No. I just want to be clear about exactly what you want.”

  I drew a deep breath in through my nose. Fine. “Please help me, Max. I’d really appreciate it if you could come over and see if you can do anything to make it go away.”

  “I’ll be there in a few.” He cut the connection.

  I glanced at Ivy. “He’ll be here soon.”

  “This is so cool. Can I hang around while he does his thing?”

  It was hard not to laugh. Ivy really didn’t fit my preconceptions about what people interested in paranormal phenomena lo
oked like. “Sure, why not?”

  “Awesome sauce.” She grinned at me.

  Awesome sauce? I hadn’t heard that expression since about fifth grade.

  “So, are you a freshman?” I said.

  “Nope. I’m a sophomore, actually.”

  “An independent?”

  “Yeah. You?”

  “No, I’m in a sorority.”

  Her eyes widened again. “Oh. I didn’t know you sorority girls lived in the dorms past the freshman year.”

  “We don’t, usually. I just wanted to be on my own.”

  She cocked her head. “How does your sorority feel about that?”

  “They hate it.”

  We chatted for a while about the difference between being an independent and a Greek. Ivy seemed smart and likable, and I wondered why she hadn’t pledged. From the way she talked, I’d guess she hadn’t been interested. Some of my sorority sisters—Tiffani, for example—would never believe that anyone could be completely uninterested in pledging. They always assumed independents had tried to pledge but had failed to be invited. They were losers, in other words. Talking to Ivy, I was suddenly sure that wasn’t true.

  And anyway, was it right to label someone a loser just because they didn’t fit into sorority life? Even if they had tried to pledge and been rejected, that didn’t make them losers.

  Ivy’s gaze moved to the end of the hall behind me, lingering on whatever she saw there. Probably Max. My heart sped up again and my achy butterflies made a grand entrance, fluttering so furiously I thought I might be sick. What was I going to say to him? How could I look at him without giving myself away?

  I turned. He was wearing his black leather jacket and carrying a messenger bag slung over one shoulder. His eyes were sad. Distant. His gaze collided with mine and broke away, as if he couldn’t bear to look at me.

  I pressed my lips together and stared at the floor. His feet, in worn black skate shoes, came closer and closer until they stopped in front of me. A tremendous bang sounded inside my room.

  “Sounds like they’re having a party in there,” Max said.

  “It’s incredible,” Ivy said.

  He glanced at her. “You saw it too?”

  “She let me peek.”