Ghost Walk

by Cassandra Gannon

Jamie glanced back at Grace, soul-chilling images flashing through his mind.

  Grace chewed her lower lip, picking up on his tension. “You think Robert’s dangerous?” She guessed, obviously not convinced. “Granted, it seems like he’s been drinking, but I don’t matter enough to him to risk jail time.”

  “He matters enough to him. Robert’s convinced himself that you’re his.” Jamie heard the possession in the bastard’s voice whenever he said her name. “That he has a claim to you.”

  “I’m not his.”

  Jamie’s gaze cut over to her, again. “No, you’re not.” He moved so he was standing between the doorway and the mattress. Between Robert and Grace. …For all the good it would do. Goddamn it, what could he do to protect her when he wasn’t even alive? “Keep the door locked, alright? He wouldn’t have come here unless he was already spinning out of control.”

  “I’m not just going to sit in here while…”

  “Seeing you will just make him more determined to win.” Jamie insisted, cutting her off again. Desperate for her to understand. “I know you think I’m overreacting, but I’ve met bullies like him before. Liars and arrogant pricks, who think they can take what they want through force and cruelty. I was raised by such a man.”

  She frowned. “Your father was abusive?”

  “He was a fucking asshole, just like Robert.”

  Robert rattled the knob and it held tight. “Grace!” He called, not the least bit apologetic over breaking in. His type never saw their own faults, just the imagined flaws and slights of others. “You’re being childish. How can we discuss this if you’re ignoring me? I just want to talk. You know I won’t harm you, for God’s sake. This is ridiculous.”

  “He might go away if I speak with him for a couple minutes.” She offered hesitantly. “It’s the easiest way to handle this.”

  “No. Donea open that door.”

  Grace silently stared up at him.

  The choice was stark: Put her faith in Jamie or in Robert. For one panicked moment, Jamie worried that Grace would refuse to believe her ex-boyfriend was a threat. That she would ignore Jamie’s frantic warnings and let him in.

  “Please, love.” He whispered. “Trust me and not him. Please.”

  Grace blinked. “Okay.” She said simply. …And just like that, she threw in with a dead pirate over a man who was “husband material.”

  It was astonishing.

  So astonishing that it took Jamie a beat to catch up. “Okay?” He echoed, not fully believing her quick agreement.

  “Okay. I’ll keep the door locked. But what are we going to do next?”

  If Jamie still had a heart it would have flipped in his chest. No one had ever trusted him so quickly and for so little reason. It was humbling. “I donea know. I’m thinking. Just stay right there on the bed.”

  “I know you’re in there, Grace!” Robert shook the door hard enough to rattle the hinges. “Damn it! You at least owe me a conversation, you bitch!” He banged on the wood. “Let me in!”

  She flinched and her gaze cut back over to Jamie. For the first time, she began to look worried.

  In his whole life and death combined, Jamie couldn’t recall ever being so furious. She was frightened and there wasn’t a goddamn thing he could do about it. If he’d been corporeal, the world would be now down one paunchy museum director. Jamie would have slaughtered Robert without a second thought.

  As it was, he was no more effective than a light breeze.

  Grace should have a living man here protecting her. Someone worthy and strong and made of pure husband-material. Someone with a fucking heartbeat. The inescapable truth of that did nothing to improve his mood.

  “Son of a bitch.” Jamie took a deep breath, even though ghosts didn’t need to breathe. “Where is your portable telephone, Grace?”

  “In the kitchen. So’s the landline.”

  “Fuck.” He’d never felt so useless. “Fuck.”

  She frowned a bit at his cursing, but he was too agitated to take his usual delight in her uptight-ness.

  “Grace?” Robert’s tone turned wheedling. “This has gone on long enough, don’t you think? I was wrong, too. I’ll admit it. But at least I’m willing to work this out in a mature fashion. You’re the one who’s trying to throw away everything we have over some cheap pizza-tramp.”

  “He always says ‘pizza-tramp’ like it’s a bad thing.” She muttered. “I’m thinking it’s way preferable to being labeled semi-frigid, though.”

  The door rattled on its hinges. “Jealousy is pointless, darling. I’d rather be screwing you that way. You know that. Just open the door and give me a chance to show you what you’ve been missing.”

  She made a disgusted face.

  Jamie paced back and forth like a caged lion, his eyes on the doorway. “What are you wearing under the robe, Grace?” He asked, already dreading the answer.

  “Nothing.”

  He closed his eyes. “Fuck.” He whispered helplessly. The only two things between his woman and that son of a bitch were an old door and a thin bathrobe.

  “It was just supposed to be you and me in here, Jamie!” Grace protested, like she thought he was upset with her. “I didn’t know he’d show up.”

  Jamie looked over at her, desperation filling him. “I know, love. It’s not your fault.” It also wasn’t her fault she was so fucking small. A fay creature hunted by violent, human hands. There was no way she could put up a struggle against Robert. She’d try, but she’d lose. “Truthfully, it’s not going to matter what you’re wearing. We just need to get you out of here.”

  Brown eyes blinked up at him, still not fully understanding the seriousness of her predicament. “For real? You want me to flee my own apartment?”

  “Yes!” He wanted her someplace --anyplace-- far from here.

  Jamie had never been this terrified. Not when he’d heard his father’s footsteps coming for him as a boy. Not when his ship nearly went down in a hurricane off the South Carolina coast. Not even when they’d lynched him in the street. Grace was so damn vulnerable and important and special and there was nothing he could do to protect her.

  Nothing at all.

  “Push the dresser in front of the door.” He ordered and strode over to check the window. It was a three story drop onto pavement. “Fuck!”

  “Cursing is really not going to help.” Grace said with another frown in his direction.

  “Well it’s sure as fuck not going to hurt.” Could she break through the wall somehow and get into the next apartment? Doubtful since they were made of solid brick. “Did you have to live in a building that predates the Civil War, lass?” He was actually longing for cheaply thrown together modern construction right now.

  “Because things would be so much better if that was a hollow-core door, right?”

  She had a point. The antique door was holding. For now. “Would you move that damn thing, please?” He gestured to the painted chest of drawers against the wall, which she still wasn’t shoving into position as a barricade. It was ugly as sin, older than even Jamie, and made of solid oak.

  Grace made a face. “It’s going to knock all my figurines.” She muttered, but she reluctantly headed over push at its massive weight. “Stupid Robert.” The heavy dresser slowly inched its way across the floor. On its wide top, chipped and glued statues mermaids rattled, several of them toppling to the ground. Grace winced as they shattered, but wedged the chest of drawers into place.

  Jamie wished that was all it took to solve the problem.

  “When are you going to see your own fault in this?” Robert demanded, changing tactics. “I have needs, goddamn it. I told you that, but you don’t seem to even hear my side of this. It’s because you couldn’t have an orgasm if three men were fucking you! You told me yourself you’ve never climaxed. How do you think that makes me feel?”

  Jamie arched a brow at her, trying to lighten the mood. “Never? Well, that’s just a pity.”

  Grace’s face flushed brigh
t pink.

  “A man needs someone warm beneath him!” Robert ranted. “He needs to feel wanted. You should be begging me to take you back. No one else would want you or your lunatic family in his life, you semi-frigid freak!”

  Grace looked up at Jamie again, like she was worried he might be falling for that horseshit.

  “You know who says women are frigid?” He scoffed. “Assholes who suck in bed. Donea listen to a word that bastard says. I told you he was a liar.”

  Grace’s mouth curved. “You, I imagine, never met a girl you couldn’t satisfy.”

  “It’s a point of pride, really. Give me a chance to show you my skills and I’ll keep my perfect record intact. I promise you, I can make you very happy.” He winked at her, hoping to cover his anxiety. “Get back on the bed, now.” He didn’t want her near the door, in case Robert got through.

  The wanker was now trying to kick it in.

  Jamie scanned around the room for a weapon she could use. “Do you know how to fight?” It was a longshot, but he was praying she’d reveal that she’d secretly trained with the Navy SEALs for some reason.

  Grace shook her head, kneeling on the mattress. “Riveras don’t do a lot of hand-to-hand combat. Well, my cousin Destiny tried a ninja spell once, but it resulted in some bad Karate chopping, and smashed up picket fences, and 911 calls.” She made a face. “Spells are always a bad idea.”

  Staggering relief flooded Jamie as he remembered who this tiny girl really was. “You’ve magic in your blood.” How could he have forgotten that? “You can stop this, lass. You just need to…”

  Grace cut him off, looking scandalized. “I don’t use spells! Maybe an occasional potion, but only when I’m completely out of normal options.”

  “We’re out of all fucking options, Grace!” He stormed over to stand in front of her. “Do something now or that fucking little fuck is going break in here and rape you right in front of me!”

  Grace blanched and not at his language. “He wouldn’t…”

  “He will.” Jamie interrupted. “I know bad people, lass, and he’s a bad person. He will hurt you, unless you do something to stop him. Trust me.”

  The door bulged inward a bit, knocking more of the knickknacks onto the floor.

  Tears glittered in Grace’s eyes and he knew she believed him. “Jamie, I’m scared.”

  The tremor in her voice made him want to kill Robert with his bare hands. If it meant taking away her fear, he would have gladly cut a deal with God to return to his wasteland of isolation forever. Jamie would give anything to help her finally feel safe.

  To be safe.

  “I know you’re scared.” Jamie put his palms on either side of her pale face, the insubstantial edges of his body tingling where they touched her smooth skin. “I know, love.” He softened his tone with supreme effort of will. “And I know you want to deny it, but there’s power in you. Now’s the time to use it.”

  “No, it’s seriously not! I only know two spells.” She held up two fingers, so he could count for himself. “And one of them is for curing frigging menstrual cramps!”

  “Menstrual cramps?” Jamie had always been good at improvised offensives. It was why he’d made such a nice living as a pirate, despite the gentlemanly tendencies that were forever plaguing him. A pain relieving spell could actually work. Anything that dulled pain also dulled senses. “Okay.” His mind raced for a beat. “Here’s what we’ll do, then: I will go out in the hall…”

  “No!” She interrupted, horrified. “Don’t leave me alone. Please, Jamie.” She tried to catch hold of his sleeve, but her fingers passed straight through his arm.

  He could’ve cried. Stepping back from her was the hardest thing he’d ever done. “I’m never going to leave you, Grace. I swear it. But we have to do this, alright? I’m just going into the hall. When I tell you, you hit the son of a bitch with ever fucking ounce of power you have, understand? Dose it up as high as that spell will go and fry him.”

  “That is absolutely, unequivocally crazy. I’m not good at magic. I barely even believe in it. This idea is never going to work.”

  “It’ll work. I know it will work.” He wasn’t sure what they would do if it didn’t work. Robert was going to get through the door very, very soon. “We donea have another idea, so this one is what we’re going with.”

  “I can’t do this.” She persisted in an increasingly panicked voice. “You’re not listening! I’m a normal person, Jamie! Normal people don’t do this kind of crap. And I hate spells. They always go wrong. I can’t believe you’re asking me to do this!” She began rubbing her temples hard enough to drill right through her skull. “Peacefulgreencornfields, peacefulgreencornfields, peacefulgreencornfields…”

  “All I’m asking is for you to try! For me. Just try the spell. Please.” He would beg if he had to. “I’m scared, too. You have no fucking idea how scared I am, right now.”

  Grace hesitated. Brown eyes flicked up to his, like those words might have actually gotten through to her.

  “I can’t touch anything.” Jamie continued, seeing he had her attention. The girl had the heart of a savior. If she wouldn’t use magic for herself, she might use it to aid him. “You’ll have to protect yourself, because I can’t help you.” Admitting that hurt worse than the rope around his neck. Grace deserved so much more than a ghost to aid her. “I’m sorry, my love. I am so fucking sorry. If I could, I would go out there and destroy that rat-bastard for you. I swear it. But, it’s not possible. So, please try this. I’m not sure what else to do to save you.”

  Grace chewed her lower lip, studying his agonized face. “I guess I could try.” She finally said. “It won’t work, but I’ll try if you want me to.”

  “I want you to try.” He assured her.

  Robert hit the door hard enough, to shift the dresser a few centimeters across the hardwood floor. “I’ll show you what you’ve been missing, you icy bitch!”

  Jamie stayed focused on Grace. “I want you to try right now.” He stepped backwards, heading for the hallway. “I’m going out there and we’re going to try this, okay?”

  She bobbed her head, but she still looked doubtful.

  Jamie would take what he could get. “Good.” He prepared to phase through the wall. “Just wait for my signal.”

  “Jamie?”

  He turned back to her.

  “When this doesn’t work, it won’t be your fault. Whatever happens, you tried your hardest to help me. Don’t blame yourself.”

  His jaw ticked. “It’s going to work, Grace. Just this once, try to have a bit of optimism.” He ducked through the wall, without giving her a chance to respond.

  Robert somehow managed to look hungover and drunk at the same time. Dressed in a suit he’d clearly slept in, his bloodshot eyes glittered in bleary malice as he tried to kick down the door to Grace’s bedroom.

  Jamie hated the man more than the cowards who hanged him. If he could’ve wrapped his hands around the Robert’s throat, he would’ve popped his skull off like a cork from a bottle.

  “Miserable son of a bitch.” He instinctively tilted his head, cracking his neck the way he used to before he went into battle. “Ready, love?” He called to Grace.

  “This is a bad plan.” She shouted through the door, just in case he hadn’t understood her reservations the first six times. “Valley-Forge-in-wintertime-with-no-shoes bad.”

  Robert hesitated, thinking she was talking to him. “What?”

  Jamie ignored the idiot. “You are always focusing on the negative, lass. Even a bad plan is better than no plan a’tall.”

  “I’m pretty sure that isn’t true. There are a lot of non-plans that would’ve been waaay better that this idea.”

  “What are you talking about?” Robert demanded. “Have you lost your goddamn mind?”

  “Oh shut up, Robert!” Grace snapped. “Mind your own business!”

  Jamie nearly grinned at her incensed tone. How could he have ever thought this girl was weak-spirite
d? “On the count of three, now.” He moved behind Robert, calculating the line-of-sight. “He’s standing at about ten o’clock, right in front of that hideous painting of the donkey you apparently commissioned from an untalented kindergartener.”

  “It’s a horse and I rescued it from a flea market, actually.”

  “Not even the fleas would have that thing about, lass.” Jamie held up his thumb, beginning the countdown. “One.”

  “I hate, hate, hate this plan, Jamie.”

  Robert looked behind him and then up at the ceiling, still trying to figure out who she was speaking to. “Who the hell is Jamie?”

  “I’m Jamie.” Jamie snarled at him. “The man she actually belongs to.” He extended his index finger and prayed like hell. “Two!”

  “Jamie, if he gets in here, don’t watch.” Grace warned. “It’ll be harder for you if you have to watch.”

  She was right. Seeing Grace harmed would be worse than his own death, but he would still stay with her through all of it. “Three!” He shouted, ignoring her command. “Now, Grace!”

  Wham!

  Energy slammed out, blasting Robert right in the chest. Jamie’s eyebrows soared as the smaller man went flying backwards and careened into the wall. Grace had far more magic in her blood than he’d anticipated. The amped-up menstrual cramp spell hit with the force of a wrecking ball, knocking Robert right off his feet. Lucky for him, the anesthetic quality of the enchantment was increased as well. Old Rob was feeling no pain. He gave a dopey smile and fell forward in an unconscious heap of beige.

  Then, the hideous mule painting fell right on top of him.

  Jamie arched a brow. He’d seen bloody cartoons with more dignity. “Good news, love. You’ve vanquished the grotesque jackass. …Also, your rotter of an ex is quite possibly dead.”

  He heard her pushing the dresser out of the way and opening the door a crack. “He’s dead?” She sounded annoyed over that possibility. “Do you have any idea how hard that’s going to be to explain to the police?”

  “Oh, if he was dead, we wouldn’t be troubling the authorities about him. Sadly, the wanker still seems to be breathing, after all.” Jamie crouched down next to Robert, wanting nothing more than to pitch him out a window. “Donea suppose I can convince you to finish him off while he’s down, can I?” He asked hopefully.