He came out of the bedroom, dressed in the khakis, white button-down, and suspenders. I noticed he styled his hair so it wasn’t in his eyes anymore and resembled the way he wore it in his other body, though it was longer now.
“I need to go get some clothes and my laptop. You’re coming with me. I’m not leaving you here alone in case G.R. comes back.”
I nodded. “We can take my Jeep.” I went to grab my coat and noticed I was still holding the phone, so I sat it on the coffee table next to the vase of flowers. My eye caught the single brown one, and I was reminded all over again of Piper’s brush with death.
“I didn’t hear the phone ring,” Olly said.
“It didn’t. I called work. I got fired.”
“Saves you from having to quit,” he said, not in the least sorry.
“I guess so,” I said, rather non-committal. Yes, I was glad I didn’t have to go back there, but on the other hand, I kind of felt like my life was unraveling at the seams. Not too long ago I had a steady job, a normal routine, a best friend I told everything to, and a weekly habit of going to the donut shop. Now, I had no job, my routine was non-existent, I was dating a Death Escort, and the Grim Reaper wanted to kill me. Not to mention my best friend almost gave up her life for me after I all but ignored her for weeks.
Oh, and the donut shop was probably wondering if I fell off the face of the earth.
“You know you don’t have to worry about money anymore, right?” he said, catching my hand and towing me against him.
“I know,” I said. “But I can’t just let you support me.”
“Why not?” He frowned.
“Because it’s not your job.”
“Yes, it is.”
“No. Your job is to love me. And to put up with me. Not to be my sugar daddy.”
He chuckled. “Putting up with you is a challenge sometimes.”
I scowled.
“But loving you… that’s a lot easier than I ever thought possible.”
“I’m so irresistible.”
“How about you don’t worry about money until all this is over and we can finally move on. Then if it will make you feel better, you can find a job.”
“Sounds good to me.” I moved to the door. “On the way back from your place, can we swing by the diner and get Piper? I don’t want her to be at her apartment alone tonight.”
“Yeah,” he replied, but he seemed distracted, still standing in the center of the room, making no attempt to leave.
“Olly?”
He glanced up swiftly.
“What were you thinking?”
“Nothing. Let’s go.”
He ushered me out and we went down to the street where the Jeep was parked. I walked out alone and got in, reaching over to unlock the passenger door and then starting up the vehicle and putting on my seatbelt. A few moments later, Olly climbed in, ducking a little lower in his seat.
I didn’t waste time and pulled away from the curb. The entire way Olly kept a lookout for following cars and gave me directions for a route that took us half across town. Then we doubled back before finally turning into his neighborhood.
“Shit,” he swore when I pulled up on the darkened end of his street.
“What?” My eyes immediately went outside onto the street, thinking the Reaper had somehow found us.
“I don’t have my keys. They’re still in Scotland.”
“Oh, that’s okay.” I fished around in my bag and pulled out a credit card. “I’ll let us in.”
His teeth flashed in the dark and I took that as a “You’re brilliant, Frankie” and climbed out of the Jeep. I took great pride in letting us into the house while he stood by and looked pretty.
But once we stepped inside, much of my amusement and lightheartedness evaporated. He didn’t want to turn on any lights because he didn’t want anyone to know we were there. So we stood there in the dark (which, frankly, was creepy) while he listened or felt or whatever he did for signs that anyone was in the house, waiting for us.
“All clear,” he said, moving into the kitchen a few moments later.
“Where are you going? Aren’t your clothes upstairs?”
I heard the opening and closing of a drawer.
“Olly, now is not the time for a snack break.”
He appeared beside me soundlessly, causing a strangled sound to erupt from the back of my throat. “Seriously!” I demanded as he ushered me up the steps toward what I assumed was his bedroom. The whole way up he kept one hand on my lower back and the other straight down against his side.
When we made it to the top of the stairs, he went first, rounding the corner and disappearing into the first room on the left. A light came on, sending light out into the hallway and making it much easier to see.
“I thought you said no lights?” I stepped into the doorway of the lit room. It was a bathroom. A very nice, upgraded bathroom with granite countertops and tile floors.
“There are no windows in this room. It will give us a little light to get my stuff from the bedroom.” He turned around. And that’s when I noticed it.
He was carrying a gun.
I felt my eyes round as I stared at the lethal weapon clutched in his hand. “What’s that for?”
“Protection.”
“Do you really think we need it?”
“I think I would rather have it than not.”
“Get your stuff so we can go.”
I followed him into his bedroom where he moved quickly, packing a black duffle bag with stuff while I sat on his giant king-sized bed. From what I could see, the room was really nice. But all my attention on the room was lost when he started taking off his clothes.
“I hope I never see another pair of khakis again,” he muttered, throwing them on the floor. Everything else soon joined the pants.
“I agree they look better on the floor.”
He spun in my direction and prowled to the end of the bed. He grabbed my ankle and slowly towed me down the bed until he was standing between my legs. “If we weren’t in a hurry…” he said, letting the words dangle suggestively. My skin heated from just the hint of seduction in his voice.
I extended my fingers so I could trail them down his torso, but he pulled back, saying, “Oh no you don’t. One touch from you is all it would take.”
He pulled on a pair of jeans and with his back to me, reached for a dark-colored long-sleeved shirt. Even in the dim lighting, I knew even in this body he could totally rock a pair of jeans.
After he was fully dressed and his bag was zipped, I assumed he was ready to go so I hopped off the bed and moved toward the door.
“Frankie, I want to give you something.”
“What?”
He tucked the gun in the waistband of his jeans, slung the bag over his shoulder, and came forward with something clutched in his hand. “Here,” he said, holding it out.
It was a credit card. “I already have one of those,” I said, patting my pocket.
“It’s an ATM card to one of my accounts. I want you to hold on to it in case you need it.”
“Why would I need to hold on to it? Why can’t—” The answer slapped me hard and I flinched. “You don’t think you’re going to make it out.”
He stared at me without blinking for a long time. It’s like he was weighing his words, not sure of what he should and should not say. Finally, he spoke.
“Take it, Frankie,” he said, thrusting the card at me. “I just want to know you’re going to be taken care of.” I opened my mouth to argue with him, but he held up his hand and continued on. “I know you don’t want my money, but I want you to have it. If something happens and I get Recalled, you go to the nearest ATM and pull out everything you can. The pin is nineteen twenty-two. Then you transfer the rest into another bank account in your name.”
I took the card and slid it into my pocket. “Tell me you’re going to make it out.”
“I’m going to make it out.”
“Well, don’t say it
if you don’t mean it!” I snapped. Oh God, my eyes were filling with tears. I hardly ever cried and now here I was trying for number two today. I couldn’t help it. The idea of never seeing him again… it was incredibly overwhelming. It was the kind of hurt that had the power to crush everything inside me. There wasn’t enough money in the world that would ever take away the kind of pain I would feel if he somehow got Recalled.
He rolled his eyes and grabbed my chin. “Listen to me. Even before I fell in love with you, I was determined to not let G.R. get the best of me. But now I have you. I have even more reason to fight. I’m not going anywhere, Frankie. Just take the damn money. You can give it back when this is over.”
I sniffled.
He yanked me against him. His shirt was really soft and I snuggled against it. “And stop crying, would you? I really don’t like it.”
A laugh broke through my tears, but it sounded kind of like a sob. His arms around me tightened. I took a deep breath and straightened. I didn’t like crying either. “C’mon, it’s probably about time to pick up Piper.”
He took my hand and pulled me behind him down the hallway, reaching into the bathroom to shut off the light.
“So what’s the plan anyway?”
He glanced over his shoulder at me. “Kill the Target and trade the soul and the bodies for my freedom.”
“And you think the Reaper will go for it?”
“I’m not going to give him a choice.”
We were halfway down the stairs when Olly stopped moving and in one quick move pulled the gun out and used his arm to usher me behind his body. I was afraid to talk, to ask him what he thought was going on; because it was clear he thought we were no longer alone.
My body went on high alert, listening for every little sound that could mean something. I watched the bottom of the stairs like a cat about to pounce on my dinner, but I still didn’t seem to hear what he did.
After several very tense moments, his shoulders seemed to relax and he started moving again down the stairs, keeping the gun at his side.
We made it all the way downstairs and into the yard.
The Grim Reaper seemed to appear out of nowhere. I couldn’t understand how one minute we were walking along with nothing in our path and then there he was, standing in front of us with electric-blue energy crackling from his fingertips.
Olly’s muscles bunched beneath his clothes and he turned, shoving the gun at me. “Safety is off. If he takes one step toward you, shoot his ass and don’t stop.”
“You cannot kill Death,” the Reaper intoned. I don’t know if it was because I was scared or because it was dark out, but his voice was much more ominous and frightening than it had been at my apartment.
“No. But she sure as hell would slow you down.” Olly pinned me with a stare. “Shoot and then run.”
“What about you?” I whispered, clutching the gun.
“Don’t you worry about him,” the Reaper called. “He knows when Death has someone in its sights, it always gets what it wants.”
Without warning or any kind of pause, he threw out his arms and tossed some of that electric-blue energy at us. Olly didn’t seem surprised. He didn’t duck. He didn’t run. He planted himself directly in front of me and he absorbed most of what came our way.
“Go to the Jeep,” Olly said. Then he threw out his hands, tossing back more of the same energy.
Did he think I could just leave him there?
“Go!” he yelled when I just stood there debating.
Apparently he did.
“I won’t leave you here!” I argued.
The Reaper laughed and raised his hand, pulling like he was holding an invisible rope. A red cloud appeared around Charming, half in, half out of his body.
“Come along, Charming,” G.R. called. “You’re supposed to be locked up tight until the clock runs out!”
I watched as Olly seemed to stumble forward like his body was following his soul. I reached out and grabbed his hand, holding on like I could keep him right there with me.
The Reaper laughed again and pulled harder. Olly’s hand ripped from mine and he fell forward onto his knees. Red was a giant cloud around him, growing bigger every second, and the more red I saw, the more limp his body became.
I wanted to scream. To scream and never stop. I’d never seen such a thing before. Is this what everyone looked like inside? Could the Reaper just rip out my soul right here and now?
I didn’t scream.
Instead, I raised the gun, pointing it at the Reaper.
I didn’t hesitate.
I pulled the trigger.
The bullet slammed into his shoulder, knocking him backward, but not hard enough to knock him off his feet. The shock was enough to get him to stop doing whatever he was doing to Olly, and his soul snapped back into his body, the red disappearing from sight.
He scrambled to his feet, pushing me backward, toward the side of the house. “Get the hell out of here, Frankie. Go, now!”
Over his shoulder I saw the Reaper recover. I saw him look up at us and smile. He released more of that energy from his fingers and sent it spiraling right at Olly.
“Look out!” I yelled.
But it was too late. Just as Olly turned, the energy hit him directly in the chest. He flew backward, hit the ground, and slid into a large shrub that lined the property. I rushed over and fell to my knees beside him. Blue energy glowed around him before fading away into the darkness.
“Olly,” I worried, leaning over his body so I could see his face.
“Find Storm.” He said the words so low I barely heard them, and then he leapt up so fast that I fell backward from surprise. The Reaper had been closing in, taking advantage of my preoccupation over Olly. When our eyes connected he smiled. He was going to kill me.
I lifted the gun once more.
But I never got the chance to shoot it.
Olly was there, throwing himself between us and plowing into the Reaper like a bulldozer. I screamed, watching the man I love come into contact with the man whose touch kills.
Olly made a sound of pain and he shoved the Reaper away, but then he jumped back and stayed steady on his feet. “I’ll go with you now if you leave her be,” he said, out of breath.
“No!” I protested, panic taking hold.
“How about I kill her now and take you after?”
“If you kill her, I’ll make sure those bodies are burned and that soul is dropped to the bottom of one of the many oceans on this planet.”
The Reaper’s eyes flashed violet. His eyes flicked to mine and then back to Olly. Then he waved his arm and a doorway appeared out of nowhere. “Come along, Charming. It seems locking you up in the body you stole will make it more convenient to keep you contained.”
Olly walked toward the door; he didn’t look back. Just as I was about to rush forward, to do something, anything that would keep him here with me, he turned, looking at me over his shoulder. He shook his head slightly. “Remember what I said.”
He stepped into the makeshift doorway and it closed instantly. I was left standing there all alone with trembling hands.
I didn’t completely understand what happened in Scotland, how Olly had disappeared without a trace so easily. I understood now.
The only difference was this time I understood what was happening. This time I wasn’t going to go home and cry. Olly left because it was the only way he knew how to make me one hundred percent safe. He became an Escort because it was the only way he knew how to keep his mother and his sister safe. Olly had been fighting for a long time… fighting for his family, then for his job, and now for me.
Who had ever fought for Olly?
No one.
Until now.
Chapter Forty-Seven
“Making plans - stupid.” *Definition provided by Charming.
Charming
Making plans was stupid. That’s why I was the kind of guy who liked to wing it. I liked to make decisions based on the here and now and no
t before things happen. Because things always change and a man needs to be flexible.
I should have spent less time making plans and more time thinking things through. Like going back to my house. I shouldn’t have gone there, but really, what were my other options? My wallet and all my credit cards and keys were in Scotland. I needed access to money and I really needed to get out of those hideous khaki pants.
So now in an attempt to keep G.R. away from Frankie again, I was back here in his office again. “I see you got the place put back together from my last visit.”
“Don’t even think about making a mess,” he said. “You’re just passing through on your way back into confinement.”
“As much as I’d love to stay and be locked up by you, I think I’ll pass.” I walked toward the door. I wasn’t staying here. I came to buy Frankie some time to get away. That was accomplished and now I was leaving.
If he wanted to try and stop me he could. I was up for a fight.
“I was there the night you died.” His voice was calm, almost conversational.
Something in my stomach hardened, but I kept walking, knowing he was just playing games. “I think that’s obvious.” I wouldn’t be in this fun position now if he hadn’t been there.
“I was in the crowd, watching the fight. My money was on you.”
My steps faltered. Those words… My money’s on you. I knew those words. Someone said them to me right before… right before I died.
“It was you,” I murmured, pushing through the ninety years of memories to bring back the night I spent a lot of time trying to forget. “There was a man. He came up to the ring, helped me with my water.” He had dark hair and a wide forehead. “It was you.”
“Ahh, you do remember,” G.R. said. “I knew you would make a good Escort. I could see it in your face. Your determination. Your stubbornness. Your unwillingness to back down from someone who desperately wanted to hold on to his title.”
“I should have won that fight.”
“Yes. You should have.”
I glanced up swiftly. Had he somehow interfered with the fight? Had he somehow made me lose?
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