Authors: Bailey Bradford

Justice (23 page)

BOOK: Justice

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Except for believing Johnny. That had got Stefan pushed over a cliff, literally. Stefan’s greatest fear, besides being abandoned by everyone he loved, was of heights.

No, not of heights. Of falling from somewhere high up. Or being pushed.
Johnny’s laughter had been pure evil as he’d shoved Stefan over that cliff. Stefan had had one single second, less than, even, where he’d felt like he was floating. Then he’d been filled with a terror so great it had crushed him. He hadn’t even been able to scream as tears had sprouted from his eyes.

The moment of impact had been the worst. Pain had slammed through every nerve ending in his body, shooting up from the hard ground and rocks he’d landed on. He’d had no idea anything could hurt so bad.

But the pain had ended quickly, and Stefan had found himself drifting, looking down at the gross mess of his body. Dead or not, that image still gave Stefan nightmares.

Stefan shuddered again. Being a spirit was so much better than being alive. He could feel himself—his body was as real in form to him now as it had been before he’d died. Just like he could shudder and all the other stuff he used to do, basically. Breathing was optional, but it just felt too creepy to not do it.

What Stefan had come to realise in the years since he’d passed away was that his physical body truly was gone. His spirit had remained behind, and the whys and hows of that were beyond him, but his corporeal limitations no longer existed.

In other words, it’d been his brain that had been damaged, not his spirit. Granted, he’d been slow to catch on, but after a lifetime of not being as bright as he’d always longed to be, he hadn’t known to expect any different. Stefan wasn’t even going to think about how many years he’d wasted being dead and still not realising he was free of those physical restrictions. He’d figured it out one day when his brother Lee had been trying to do his taxes. Stefan had been able to add up all the figures in his head accurately, and quicker than Lee could with a calculator.

It had been odd to suddenly realise he wasn’t slow like he used to be. Although, considering it’d taken him years to do so, maybe he wasn’t the brightest star in the sky.

So overall, he preferred being dead. He wasn’t as lonely as he’d been when he’d been living. There were times, yeah, when he was miserable, when he wondered what the point of everything was. Then he’d get distracted from his moodiness and be happy again.

His astral body was better than his physical one had ever been too. Not necessarily bigger or anything, but it worked like it should have. When he’d been alive, half the time it had seemed like his brain hadn’t quite managed to tell his arms and legs how to move right. He’d trip and fall, and people would laugh—but that wasn’t a problem anymore.

No, now he was free of the physical chains of the mortal realm. Stefan snorted. He was still a goofball, and he was bored.
Maybe I’ll go spy on Conner and the new guy. Or people.
With the latest oil boom in Texas the population had nearly doubled. There were buildings thrown up in a rush—hotels, motels, restaurants and bars. Oil workers and rig drivers were all over, too. It was getting crowded.

Even for the dead. The influx of people meant more fatalities on the roads. Stefan didn’t like to think about how many wrecks he’d seen in the past year and a half. Yet no one seemed to learn. People still sped like their ass was on fire, and drinking and driving must have been a competitive sport for some. Drug use was on the rise, too, so yeah, more dead people. A few of them hung around once their bodies had keeled over.

Stefan had friends in his spiritual world, and he had his family in the living one. All in all, he was happy.

He was just… Bored. As. Hell.

Oh well. He’d go to the graveyard, see if he could work out his weird mood, then if he needed a little excitement, he’d go poke Lee in the armpit or something.

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About the Author

A native Texan, Bailey spends her days spinning stories around in her head, which has contributed to more than one incident of tripping over her own feet. Evenings are reserved for pounding away at the keyboard, as are early morning hours. Sleep? Doesn’t happen much. Writing is too much fun, and there are too many characters bouncing about, tapping on Bailey’s brain demanding to be let out.

Caffeine and chocolate are permanent fixtures in Bailey’s office and are never far from hand at any given time. Removing either of those necessities from Bailey’s presence can result in what is known as A Very, Very Scary Bailey and is not advised under any circumstances.

Email:
[email protected]

Bailey loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at
http://www.total-e-bound.com

Also by Bailey Bradford

Southwestern Shifters: Rescued

Southwestern Shifters: Relentless

Southwestern Shifters: Reckless

Southwestern Shifters: Rendered

Southwestern Shifters: Resilience

Southwestern Shifters: Reverence

Southwestern Shifters: Revolution

Southwestern Shifters: Revenge

Southern Spirits: A Subtle Breeze