Charmed (Death Escorts) (37 page)

Chapter Forty-Six

“Money -
assets and property considered in terms of monetary value; wealth.”

Frankie

Just as suspected, I got fired from my job. I called in to tell them I was better and coming back and the witch cackled and told me not to bother.

I couldn’t really say I was disappointed. In fact, I kind of felt relieved. Okay, not kind of. Totally. I was surprised by how much relief I actually felt. I used to joke that place was sucking away my soul, but now that I didn’t have to go back, I realized it hadn’t really been a joke.

Lost in thought, I wandered over to the window, looking down to the street. Olly’s Porsche was still sitting at the curb where he left it before we went to Los Angeles. He wasn’t going to be able to drive it around for a while; the expensive car wasn’t exactly made for blending in, and since he was supposed to be locked up in a room without a body, taking it for a spin wasn’t on the to-do list.

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.