Trey grinned and twisted off me. He was wearing black boots, so he had to unlace them before they’d come off. Once they were off, I saw he was sporting black socks as well. I should have known. He started to pull these off, but our lips hadn’t been touching for what seemed ages, so I pulled him back on top of me, and we kissed. More groping ensued, and somehow I got his belt buckle undone and slipped my hand down inside his jeans. Getting past the elastic band of his underwear was difficult, but I was determined. Finally I brushed my fingers against his erection.
He pulled his lips off mine and gasped. Then he grinned mischievously. “I’ve been wanting to do this ever since you walked into the cafe that first day.”
“Were you going to wait until we got somewhere private, or do me right there in front of the customers?”
“Right then, of course. You know how I like to shock people.”
He’d undone my jeans and chose that moment to grasp my cock. Trey didn’t go for a light, gentle touch either. He made damn sure I knew I’d been grabbed, and tightly. Cocky little bastard. I was too horny to notice a little pain, however.
“You just shocked me, I think.” I whispered the words.
He squeezed harder, his eyes gleaming. “Good. I like to know I’ve got your attention.”
We were now pretty much side by side to allow access to each other’s genitals. Trey released his grip on my dick and cupped my face in his hands. Much as I liked feeling his hands on my erection, I decided he could touch me anywhere and it would send delicious shivers down my spine. He kissed me gently.
“I really like you, Michael,” he said.
“And I—”
The lightbulb in the lamp on the nightstand exploded.
“What the—” Trey exclaimed as the bulb in the overhead fixture shattered as well, with a loud popping sound. The lamp on the desk went too, plunging us into darkness. Trey rolled off me, and I could see the shock in his face, as there was just enough moonlight coming in through the window.
“My God,” I whispered.
Maybe I had been too immersed in my own lust to notice that there’d been a change in the room. Now, though, I could feel the cold and that sense that we weren’t alone. I sat up, reaching out for Trey’s hand. He grasped it hard, and I could see him looking around the room, waiting for whatever came next.
“Ah, shit!” he yelled, pulling his hand free and putting it up to his cheek.
“What is it?” I demanded.
“Something fucking scratched me!”
I tried to grab Trey’s face to turn it toward the window so I could see if, indeed, he’d been scratched, but he was too freaked out and batted my hands away. And then I looked over Trey’s shoulder and saw a misty figure standing by the bed.
It was Coleman Hollis. He wasn’t solid, and there was no color to him. Just a pale figure. I couldn’t even see his legs. Below his waist, there was just mist. But all I needed to see was his face, which was set in a look of pure hatred. Coleman’s face was twisted, and his eyes blazed with malice.
Trey was obviously unaware of the figure, and he turned toward me. “I think I’m bleeding,” he said, staring at the darkened stains on his fingers.
I put an arm around Trey’s shoulders and gazed into the apparition’s angry face. “I’m not Bryan,” I said through gritted teeth. “Please stop doing this!”
The face lost none of its animosity, but as I held Trey close to me, the figure slowly vanished. I waited until there was no sign left, no mist, no feeling of someone unseen in the room, and then I got to my feet, put my glasses back on, and pulled Trey, who was holding his cheek and cussing under his breath, into the bathroom. The light there had escaped the bulb shattering, and we both blinked when I flicked on the switch.
Trey’s face had three welts running along his left cheek, one gouge deep enough that it had broken the skin. I helped him over to the sink and turned on the faucets. “Let’s wash you up.”
Trey was in shock. He didn’t seem to understand my words and made no move to clean off the blood, so I snagged a washcloth off the rack and got it nice and wet. Trey turned toward me only when I moved him, and it wasn’t until I touched his cheek with the cloth that any life showed in his eyes.
“What the fuck just happened?” he asked in a small voice.
I didn’t answer that. Instead I said, “It doesn’t look deep. I don’t think you’ll have a scar.” My smile was meant to reassure him. I don’t think it did.
I daubed at his cheek, causing the white cloth to become pink as it soaked up Trey’s blood. He was pale, but at least now his eyes showed animation. “I just got scratched by a fucking ghost, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, I’m afraid so,” I replied. I hated the look of fear in Trey’s eyes. There was no way I was going to tell him about the figure I’d seen. Maybe later, once he’d recovered more.
He sighed and stared into my eyes. “I think I’m falling in love with you, Michael. But, and I mean this, I’m never setting foot in this room again. And I don’t want you to either. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
I nodded, and we went out and grabbed our clothes. I think Trey broke records getting his gear back on, even though his fingers shook as he attempted to lace his boots. We dressed by the light coming in from the bathroom. There was no way I was going to chance turning on other lamps in the bedroom, afraid the bulbs might meet the same fate as the ones that had shattered. Once we were ready, we grabbed our jackets and headed for the door. Automatically I reached for the light switch, but there was no light to turn off. I closed the door firmly behind us.
“I need a drink,” Trey said as he walked rapidly down the hall.
I looked back at the door, falling a few paces behind Trey. Even though I’d made it seem like I agreed with him about not returning to the Ulalume Suite, I knew I would.
My business there was unfinished.
Chapter EIGHT
I HELPED Trey in the front door of the big old farmhouse where he lived with his mother and God knows how many cousins and aunts. He was doing better, but he still had a slightly distracted air about him as he stumbled along. If I hadn’t been there to guide him up the porch steps, he’d have fallen face-first, causing more damage. I could tell he was still trying to make sense out of what had occurred. Good luck there.
His mom was watching television in the living room, but as soon as she caught sight of the scratches she was up out of her chair, fussing over him and asking questions neither of us knew how to answer. She forced him onto a small bench in the foyer so she could get a better look at his cheek.
“How did this happen?” she demanded of me, as she was getting only noncommittal replies from Trey.
“I don’t—”
Luckily, Trey’s Aunt Janet (another Coffee Cafe employee), emerged from a back room at that moment, drawn by Mrs. Ramsey’s raised voice. The two of them took turns turning Trey’s face this way and that, getting the best view. “What in the world have you been doing?” Janet asked him.
“Pissing off a ghost, it seems,” Trey answered with a weak smile.
Trey’s mother and aunt immediately stopped their fussing and stood up straight, their voices now silent. Janet crossed herself.
Mrs. Ramsey started to speak, realized she had no words, and closed her mouth. She repeated this process again before finally finding words. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Trey told them what had happened, leaving out the fact that we were in the process of fondling each other and getting naked when the lightbulb erupted. Some details just weren’t necessary. He finished by saying, “Needless to say, we hightailed it out of there, and I’m never setting foot in that place again.”
“Well, I should hope not!” His mother was nearly shouting. She turned to me. “And neither are you. You’re staying here until you get your apartment. I’ll make up the couch in the family room, and you can sleep there.”
“He can stay in my room,” Trey protested.
G
loria seemed about to argue but apparently decided it was a lost cause. “Okay, but I don’t want to hear you boys bumping and grinding all night. You know how thin these walls are.”
I felt I should point out some things. “My stuff is still at the Raven’s Rest.”
“Trey has clothes you can wear for now.” Never mind that they’d be tight on me and that my legs were longer than his.
Shaking my head, I said, “I’ll be fine at the inn. Really.”
Janet looked at me like I’d just sprouted an extra head. “Are you crazy? Weren’t you there when this happened? When Trey got scratched?”
“Yes, but….” I didn’t really know how to finish that sentence. I sighed. “I have to go back.”
“There’s no ‘have to’ about it,” Gloria said. “You’re staying here.”
“I’ll be safe.” I tried my reassuring smile on them, although I was sure it came out weak. “It’s Coleman’s ghost. Coleman Hollis. He won’t hurt me.” When I saw a question forming on Gloria’s lips, I added, “I resemble Coleman’s boyfriend.”
Trey’s mother let this sink in a moment before saying, “Well, that may be worse! What if he… you know… tries to mess with you.”
The thought of being groped by a ghost hadn’t actually occurred to me. “I don’t think that will happen.”
“And I’m sure Trey thought he wouldn’t get mauled either!”
“Mom, I wasn’t—”
“Hush, you! I’m trying to knock some sense into your boyfriend!”
“We’re not—” Trey was blushing.
Gloria rolled her eyes heavenward. “If you aren’t yet, you will be. Don’t think we haven’t noticed you two making cow eyes at each other all week.”
Trey looked to his aunt for support, but Janet merely smiled. “We all know. If fact, we’ve all been wondering why you two are taking so long.”
I smiled at that, as I’d felt like Trey and I were going too fast as it was. A different perspective, I guessed. “I’ll be okay,” I repeated.
Trey glared at me. “You’re an idiot if you go back there.”
“I need to.”
He blinked. “I still like you, even if I do think you’re being stupid.”
“Thanks, I think.”
The discussion was curtailed while Gloria went to get some disinfectant for Trey’s wound. She and Janet took turns daubing the scratches with a Q-tip dipped in alcohol. Trey hissed several times, either from the burning of the medicine or from the women poking him with the Q-tips. They decided a bandage wasn’t necessary, nor was it practical since the scratches were so long.
“We could cover the whole cheek with gauze,” Janet suggested.
Trey was dubious. “I think I’ll be fine. I’ll live.”
Once it was clear that Trey was over the shock of our experience and was back to his usual self, I began to inch closer to the front door. “I really should be going now.”
“Don’t,” Trey said.
“He’s right,” Gloria added. “At least stay tonight.”
I shook my head. “I know this doesn’t make any sense, but I feel like I need to be there tonight.”
Gloria frowned. “There are no answers to be found there. I told you that before.”
“I know. Still, I have to try.”
Trey started to stand up, saying, “Crap! I drove! You can’t walk back to the inn. I’ll drive you.”
“I can walk, thanks. You stay and rest.”
Gloria took both my hands in hers and held them tightly. “I wish I could convince you to stay.”
“I’ll be fine. It’s only a few blocks.” Actually, it was close to six, but still easily within walking distance.
“You be careful.” There was worry in her eyes.
“I will.”
Gloria scored points with me by realizing that Trey and I might want to be alone to say good night and invented a crisis in the kitchen that needed both her and Janet’s attention. When they’d gone, Trey stood, still a little shaky, and put his arms around me.
“How did you get to be so stubborn?” he asked.
“I’m not sure. I think I’m getting strength from you. God knows I haven’t had any on my own these last few years.”
Trey thought about that. “No, I think it’s the inn. Now you’ve found a purpose. Some puzzle that you’ve got to solve.” He grinned. “And me, of course. Some of my tough has worn off on you.”
“Yeah, you’re a whole a hundred and forty pounds of tough.”
“One forty-five, I’ll have you know.”
“Oooh. Such a stud.” Our embrace became tighter.
“More stud than you’ll ever need.”
I hoped so. We kissed, a long, lingering one, and reluctantly I opened the door and walked out into the chilly night.
I hadn’t gone far before I began to regret not taking Trey up on his offer of a ride. For one thing, it was getting colder, and my hands were quickly chilled. I’d left my gloves on the dresser back at the Raven’s Rest, so I jammed my fists into my jacket pockets and increased my steps. My shoes scuffed reassuringly on the cement sidewalk.
But there was another sound, somewhere behind me. A shuffling. Like someone was trailing me.
I stopped and turned but could see no one. Deciding it was just my imagination, I went on.
My own muffled footsteps, that distinct sound of rubber soles on cement, were being echoed. I was sure of it. I stopped again. This time the sounds behind me continued for a second. As I turned, I could have sworn I saw a shadow dart behind one of the trees lining the avenue, a half block behind me.
“Who’s there?” I called out. “Trey?”
That was an act of the purest optimism, yelling out his name. I knew he hadn’t followed me. He certainly wouldn’t act surreptitious if he had. So who was it? A mugger? In Banning? Did Banning have muggers?
There was no further movement over by the tree, and I began to wonder if I had been mistaken. The moon was out and bright, throwing shadows everywhere. Maybe I’d just seen the shadow of a tree branch or something. After the evening I’d had, I was understandably jumpy and liable to assume the worst.
Slowly, I continued on my way, straining my ears for any unusual sound. Somewhere nearby, an owl was hooting. I could hear a car or two, likely on the more traveled roads closer to Washington Street, blocks away from where I was. Other than that, the night was quiet.
Behind me, a twig snapped, and I twisted around to see a dark figure darting behind the cover of a bush. It was impossible in the light provided to get much detail, but I could tell the person was tall and thin and seemed to be wearing a dark jacket and a hat of some kind.
A brave person might have strode purposely up to the bush and demanded that the person show himself. Me, I turned and ran.
It wasn’t even a conscious decision. I think my legs decided for me. I didn’t even know if my stalker followed me. All I knew was that I was bolting down the sidewalk, praying that someone would come out of their house to see what the commotion was about. Then I could have them call the police. I had my cell phone on me, but I immediately dismissed the thought of pausing to fish it out of my pocket. In my mind, by the time I slowed down and got my mitts on it, my pursuer would catch up with me and slit my throat, or whatever he planned on doing to me.
I ran two blocks, gasping and puffing, before daring to slow down enough to glance behind me. Nothing. No movement anywhere. Not even a stray cat. I felt like collapsing from relief, and just then a car turned the corner ahead of me and I could see, from the illumination provided by a streetlight, that it had Sheriff’s Department emblazoned on the side. I waved my arms frantically.
The car stopped, and I found myself suddenly blinded by the searchlight attached to the driver’s side of the car. I heard a voice I recognized asking, “Can I help you, sir?”
It was Erin Hughes, the deputy I’d met at the Raven’s Rest. Out of breath, I gasped, “There’s someone… following me. Or was. I think they’r
e gone now.”
The light was extinguished, and Deputy Hughes stepped out of the vehicle. “Mr. Cook, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” I could finally get my words out without wheezing. “I was walking back from the Ramseys’ house, and I heard someone following me.”
Deputy Hughes joined me on the sidewalk, and she flicked on a powerful flashlight, scanning the area. “Did you see them?” she asked.
I was thankful she didn’t sound dismissive. In Rockford, I was sure a cop would have almost laughed at a young man complaining of being followed. “Yeah. Once when I turned around, I saw someone darting behind a bush. Back there. A block or two back.” I waved in the direction I’d come.
“What did they look like? Did you see their face?” Hughes was still shining her light around, even though I could tell by her face that she thought it unlikely she’d see anything.
“It was too dark. All I could tell was they were tall. And thin. And I think they were wearing a duffle-type coat. You know the type I mean?”
The blonde woman nodded. “I’d say you shook them off, whoever it was. Probably just one of the local kids, trying to scare a stranger as a Halloween prank. Unless you know of anyone who might have been….” She let the statement dangle.
I shook my head. “No, I can’t think of anyone who would.” The idea of it being just a neighborhood kid didn’t seem right either. While I couldn’t put my finger on why, I’d felt a definite threat from the figure’s presence, more than would come from some rowdy teenager out to scare a stranger. I couldn’t explain that sensation to Deputy Hughes, though. I had nothing to back up my notion.
She turned off her flashlight. “I’m betting it was Doug West. One of our less productive dropouts. He’s always roaming the streets at night, and this is just the sort of thing he’d think was hilarious.”
“You’re probably right,” I said, not believing it for a minute.
“Want me to give you a lift back to the Raven’s Rest?”
I took a deep breath while pondering. I could see the inn, just a block and a half away. “No, I think I’m fine.”
Raven's Rest Page 7