“Should I stay or go? Go.” My brain wasn’t working yet. I couldn’t quite digest what I’d seen. No one was behind me, so I backed up and turned, heading for home. I flipped on the radio and Perry Como blasted my ears. His jaunty version of “Home for the Holidays” chased away the ghosts of the crash.
“Hey, my favorite!” A smile trembled on my lips when I glanced in the rearview mirror. The train hadn’t managed to stop yet, and then the horror didn’t matter because it was out of sight. I took a deep breath and drove directly for my house, where I knew Tyler was probably still snuggled in my bed.
When I pulled into the driveway, I almost passed out as I shut off the engine. Now that I was safe and sitting still in one place, my exhaustion caught up with me as the adrenaline of the crash drained away.
“That could’ve been me. We were both going too fast. Then what would Tyler do? He’d be mad if I died. Hell.” My brain was staticky and didn’t fully clear when I shook it.
I managed to get through the front door and sat down on the floor once I got it closed, luxuriating in the warm air. I peeled off my coat and suit jacket. It took a few seconds to notice that I was sitting in a puddle of melting snow from my own boots, but I couldn’t quite make myself move.
“Hello?” Tyler’s voice rang out from the direction of the kitchen, and I registered the smell of coffee and perhaps Pop-Tarts as I sat there taking deep breaths. “Is that you, Eddie, or are there ghosts?” That joking tone wouldn’t have existed yesterday. My heart warmed. I’d helped make that happen.
“Yeah, I’m the Ghost of Christmas Past,” I called.
A warm chuckle was my reward for pulling my head out of my ass and speaking. “I would hope you were the Ghost of Christmas Present and Future. But you’re definitely not Scrooge. Maybe you’re his nephew, with your house decorated for Christmas.” He came into view and smiled down at me before going to a knee and popping off my boots.
I stupidly watched him with my hands in my lap. Couldn’t get enough of looking at him. God, it was good to still be alive.
“Fred. He was an all right guy. The analogy can only take us so far. Freddie had a wife,” I murmured.
He kissed me, and my brain woke up as I savored his warm, sweet lips. Yeah, he’d been in the Pop-Tart stash. Fake strawberries teased my tongue. I couldn’t stop my moan as a kaleidoscope of insanely sexy memories bombarded me. I hugged him tight, loving the way his lithe body fit against mine.
“We can be modern. Freddie can have a husband.” Tyler smirked as he sat back, and my heart squeezed. I fucking loved the sound of that.
“Did you slip?” He glanced around.
Shit. I was still on the floor.
“Are you home sick?” He tilted his head. “It’s early to be back from work, isn’t it?”
“Oh, uh, we only went into the office today because we were finishing up a project. My part was done.” Guilt slammed me out of nowhere. Newland died because I’d wanted totalkto him. Was he scared of me? What did he do to Tyler? Did he deserve to die today?
My gut twisted into knots.
“Hey.” Tyler put his hands on either side of my neck and frowned. His fingers were so warm they were fire dancing against my skin. “What’s wrong?” His bottom lip jutted.
My heart hiccuped. “I did something, and I’m worried if I tell you that you’ll think I’m some sort of psycho monster after last night.”
“What? I won’t.” He shook his head. “I promise.”
“Tyler, it’s fast, but.. ..” I held my breath. “I love you already. So, it will really suck if you’re scared of me after this.”
He sat back on his heels and rolled his eyes, but his smile took over his face. “How could you scare me?”
I pulled him in for a hard kiss, devouring his lips, then buried my face against his soft, warm neck, knocking him off-balance. He was a welcome anchor to reality.
“I killed Aaron Newland on my way home from work.”
11
TYLER
I killed Aaron Newland.
IkilledAaron Newland.
I killedAaron Newland.
Ikilled Aaron Newland.
