A Strange There After (24 page)

He paused, and I sensed him gathering
strength to finish. I moved over and sat by him, grasping his hand,
earning a look of gratitude.

“When she was nearly upon me, she sort
of...joined with the shadow. The shock over seeing her prevented me
from reacting, even when the thing lashed out at me. A frigid cold
hit me square in the chest, and I stumbled backward, right down the
stairs. The last thing I remember was Catherine’s laughter in my
head.”

I shook from the force of the truth as it
settled around me. “She killed you.”

His wounded gaze landed on me, and the grim
expression he wore made him look gaunt. “It took me a long time to
come to terms with it. My body wasn’t found for a while, not until
a neighbor noticed the front door standing open. When I woke up as
a ghost, I was here because this is where I died. And this,” he
plucked at the scratchy material of his uniform, “is what they
buried me in.”

“And you’ve had to live with your murderer
for over a century.”

The cruelty of it pissed me off, but he had
finally answered why his death remained a secret. What a terrible
thing to admit, dying at the hands of your lover. Torn between
empathy for Jackson and all-consuming rage toward Catherine, I
chose the former. I’d deal with the little witch later. I
remembered talking to Boone about moving on and asked, “Don’t you
want to be some place better? Why can’t you leave?”

The grief in his tortured expression said it
all.

Oh, yeah, duh. “You still love her.”

“It’s sick, I admit. No one ever claimed love
to be rational. But I’m afraid for her, too. She’s caught in a web
she doesn’t understand. I hate to stand by as she’s being used by
that spider. And just because we’re in the same location for
eternity doesn’t mean we interact. Whenever I try to approach her,
she pushes me away, unless she’s distracted. There are too few
instances she actually acknowledges me.” His voice grew
impassioned. “I believe there is hope for her. I won’t accept that
the last hundred and fifty years have been for nothing.”

“You think you can save her.”

It wasn’t a question, and I already spied the
answer in his blue stare. “I don’t know any other way to exist or
whatever it is I’m doing in this afterlife.”

My heart broke for him. It was both worse and
better than I expected. I laid my head on Jackson’s shoulder and
listened as he drew in a shuddering breath. My attention strayed to
George, watching us with longing.

“Get over here.” I grinned at him.

Cautiously, he inched his way closer and
climbed into my lap, patting Jackson’s hand, offering comfort the
only way kids knew how. I put my arm around his bony shoulders and
felt contented.

“We’re an odd family,” I said. “But I’m proud
to have both of you in it.”

Jackson’s chuckle vibrated through me.
“Likewise. After such a long time, I’ll take what I can get.”

George looked up at me with sad brown eyes.
“Ya wants ta know more about my mama, don’cha?”

Apparently our happy moment had passed. “I
hear you talking to her. What does she say?”

He shrugged, another childish movement. “She
want me t’help her do dem bad tings. She say she love me, she
sorry. Mama cries a lot. I don’ want her to hurt ya.”

“Thanks, Isaiah,” I said, making the effort
to at least call him by his real name out loud.

“Call me George.”

“Why?” Jackson asked.

“Quinn always call me dat. I like it. Feels
like me.”

Jackson ruffled his hair, and we shared a
moment over the top of George’s head. It felt like utter defeat to
admit it, but if worse came to worse, this wasn’t the most terrible
way to spend eternity. At least I’d have a family.

Chapter
Twenty-Seven

After spending an hour with Jackson and
George, I headed downstairs to see if anyone was around. Well,
anyone but Boone. Please let Boone be asleep or out or fully
clothed, I prayed. At the top of the landing, I stopped. I’d never
look at these stairs the same, knowing Jackson died at the bottom
of them. His eternal presence here gave me a morose feeling.

Raised voices caught my attention, and I
followed them into Catherine’s bedroom. I found her in the middle
of a heated argument with Jason. Her face twisted in frustration,
but he looked torn between strangling and kissing her. Passion
radiated between them which caused me to flush with jealousy. I
peered around the corner of the doorway to eavesdrop.

“There has to be something fundamentally
wrong with you,” he was saying. “You lied to me for weeks!”

“Not all of it was a lie,” Catherine
blurted.

This caught me and Jason by surprise. His
body went rigid.

“What are you talking about?”

She shook her head frantically. “Nothing. It
doesn’t matter.”

“Dammit! I wish someone would just talk to
me.” He strode forward, trapping her between him and the wall,
their bodies almost touching. “You think nothing you do has
consequences, but you’re wrong.”

Confusion skittered across her features. “Why
are you so intent on getting an answer?”

“It was real to me,” he roared. As if the
shout had taken all his energy, he stumbled backwards and collapsed
on the bed, his face a mask of shock, like he hadn’t expected those
words to come out of his mouth.

To my surprise, Catherine knelt on the floor,
her hand on his knee. The softness in her expression stole my
breath. I didn’t want to see it, to hear what they shared. I was
watching a car crash, knowing the outcome would be bad, but unable
to turn away. They had obviously spent a lot more time together
than I ever imagined. A voice in the back of my mind screamed for
me to run.

But I didn’t.

“That night was special for me, too.”

Wait, what?

She continued. “You have no reason to believe
it, but no matter how terrible I am, I get lonely too. Finally
feeling wanted again, feeling intimacy, it meant everything. I
never faked anything when we were together.”

“I thought you were Quinn! Do you know what
that means? I thought she trusted me enough to give me that gift. I
felt so close to you, to her, in that moment. It’s not as black and
white as you’re making it, Catherine. I mean, oh God, does it make
me a rapist?”

It hit me then, a nuclear bomb to the heart.
They slept together! My knees threatened to buckle under the weight
of the revelation. I couldn’t make my mouth form words, but I did
sense the anger building. Hot sobs clawed at my throat, scratching
to be let out.

“Did it seem like I wasn’t willing?”
Catherine asked him.

“No, it was amazing.” He dropped his head in
his hands. “But it was wrong. I betrayed her.”

Everything bubbling up inside me exploded. “I
can’t believe you did that!”

I wasn’t entirely sure who I was yelling at.
Him for liking it or her for allowing things to progress that far.
My entire body vibrated with rage, with hurt. Jason had it exactly
right—he betrayed me, in the worst way possible.

“Quinn,” Catherine gasped, clearly shaken by
my arrival.

Jason leapt to his feet, his eyes searching
the room. His inability to see me only ticked me off more. I
watched the realization of what happened crawl across his face.

“No, oh no, Quinn. Give me a chance to
explain.”

The bursts of emotion flashing through me
gave me strength, evident by the fact he heard me when I said, “How
could you?”

“Because I thought it was you,” he cried in
anguish.

“Do you think that matters?”

His face crumpled. “No.”

“Quinn, you need to calm down,” Catherine
warned me.

I ignored her, focusing my agony on Jason. “I
would have never slept with you this early on. The fact you didn’t
even consider that shows me how little you know about me. Or
respect me!”

Jason’s eyes widened. “We’re talking...to
each other.”

“Because I’m pissed.” My mind filled with
images of them wrapped in each other’s arms. Of him whispering into
her ear as he pulled her clothes off. The hurt was too great, and
without any thought at all, my arm shot out, pointing at him.
Darkness erupted from the tips of my fingers. It was as if my anger
took on physical form. It collided with Jason, slamming him into
the wall and slinking its way up to his neck. I didn’t flinch as I
heard him gasp and choke.

“Quinn! What are you doing?”

Catherine’s cries brought a smile to my lips.
How many times had I asked her the same thing as she tormented me
or someone I cared about?

“What’s wrong? Can’t handle a taste of your
own medicine?”

“It’s got nothing to do with that, and you
know it. You’re just jealous! And you have every right to be.”

I ignored her, returning my attention to
Jason as he struggled to free himself from the shadow pinning him
to the wall. The longer I held him, the calmer I felt. His face
turned purple, his lips blue.

“Quinn!”

The voice calling my name caused a crack to
form in my concentration.

“Get out, Boone,” I said, forgetting my
earlier mortification with him.

“This isn’t you. Let him go.”

My resolve wavered, and I sensed my control
slipping. Then, as if a veil had been ripped from my eyes, I really
saw
what I was doing. Retreating from the horror of the
realization, I shrunk into the corner of the room. Jason fell to
the ground, wheezing, and Catherine went to help him.

“Don’t touch him,” I ground out.

Boone glanced between the two of us then
rushed to Jason’s side to move him onto the bed. Noticing the red
welts around his neck, I flinched and stared at my feet. Emotion
coursed through me, unable to be controlled, and I shook with the
effort.

“What happened?” Boone demanded.

“Please don’t,” I whimpered the same time a
familiar voice appeared in my head.

Nicely done, love.

He snapped his head around to look at me, his
brows furrowed. Abandoning Jason, he crept toward me. “Are you
okay?”

“Get him downstairs.”

Boone hesitated then nodded. With one arm
under Jason’s arm, he half carried and dragged him across the
threshold. I latched on to the darkness again and directed it to
slam the door behind them, locking it. Immediately, Boone began
banging to be let back in, but I drowned out his pleas.

Use it. Here is your chance to punish the
one who’s taken everything from you.

“What are you doing?” Catherine’s voice
wobbled.

I glanced at her, noting how she tried to
stand nonchalantly with a hand on her hip, but I spotted the trace
of fear in her eyes. I blocked Kalfu’s taunts, not wanting to miss
an opportunity to finally gain some insight.

“We need to have a little talk,” I told
her.

“How are you doing this? You let him in,
didn’t you?”

“No, I figured out how to use my anger on my
own.”

“That’s not how it works. Now Kalfu has a
claim on you.”

I leaned against the dresser. “Let me worry
about my soul. Let’s talk about how you gave Jason my
virginity.”

She nibbled her lip, struggling to maintain
her bravado. “Not like you wouldn’t have had sex with him
eventually. You’re making it into a bigger deal than it is.”

“It is a big deal,” I cried. “I’ll never get
the experience back. I know it may sound stupid, but I wanted it to
be special. Can your manipulative brain comprehend that?”

“It’ll still be your first time...if you ever
manage to kick me out and experience it yourself.”

“Are you really this heartless?”

She moved to the vanity and picked up a
brush. Perching on the end of her bed, she used it on her hair.
Sighing heavily, she said, “You want a genuine heart to heart,
don’t you? You think you deserve it?”

“Of course, I do. You stole everything from
me!”

“So dramatic.” She shook her head, leaning
back on the bed. “The last three weeks have been some of the best
of my life,” she said in a rush. “There. Are you happy I said
it?”

Settling in for what I hoped was a long chat,
I slid down the wall, tucking my knees to my chest, making sure I
maintained a hold on the door and the commotion on the other
side.

“I’m not happy, no. I am glad you told me,
though.” Genuinely curious, I asked, “Why has it been so enjoyable?
Was it,” I swallowed, “was it because of Jason?”

She regarded me with suspicion. “To be
brutally honest, a bit. You know how charming he is. Add in the
fact I’ve been alone for so long, it felt nice to be wanted. To
have someone hear me and act like I meant the world to them and
treat me so good. Most of it, though, had to do with being alive
again. I was so sick of living
through
someone else.”

I understood her. It’d only been a miniscule
amount of time for me, and I was already losing my mind. What would
I be like after fifty years? A hundred? Any pity I felt toward her
tempered the anger, but I didn’t let it get out of control.

“Do you ever stop to consider your actions?
Does what you’ve done to me really not bother you?”

She squirmed, unable to meet my gaze. “I
can’t let it.”

Her admission knocked me for a loop. When I
asked her the question, I didn’t expect such a truthful response.
Not after everything she’d done. Uncomfortable with the stark
honesty we agreed to, I switched gears.

“What about Jackson.”

“What about him.”

“You killed him.”

She nodded, and I watched my face, one I
didn’t even recognize anymore, struggle with sadness. It was right
there in the way her chin wobbled. Somehow, between the heated
argument with Jason and my unexpected question, a wall had been
knocked down.

“I was lost in my grief at first. Everything
was so new, so raw. I was angry at everyone, felt betrayed. Hurting
Jackson...” She trailed off and gathered her thoughts. “I really
did love him. Once the war started, the future we dreamed of seemed
impossible. I didn’t share the optimism of everyone else, that we’d
whip the Yankees in a month. I saw it for what it was...the end of
the world I loved. When I married William, I tucked away my hope. I
buried Jackson. When he came back, he shattered the lock I’d put on
him. I remembered what it was like to want everything, not just
settle and live in fear.”