“Oh?” I pretend to be surprised, like this is the first time anything like this has happened.
“Oh.”
Neither of us says anything else. In the void, I bring my knees up on my chair so I can wrap my arms around them. Out of the void, I can still feel my sister’s hand in my own. With her hand in mine, things feel almost normal. I wish they were.
twenty-two
. . .
After Meggie goes to bed,Kit moves to lie on his back on the couch, staring at the ceiling.
He sucks in a breath. “I fucked up by taking you there.”
I want to say,“You fucked up by possessing me,”but I bite my tongue. He knows I’m unhappy with this situation—unless he is completely delusional. Though, I suppose that is a possibility. What I say instead is, “You were trying to help. We probably got some pretty good footage.”
“I don’t care about the footage,” he states seriously. “I care if you’re okay.”
“I’m as fine as I can be.” I wander to my bed, lying down atop the covers, mirroring Kit’s position. “Listen, I’m not mad. I’m just tired.”
He sighs. “That’s like a parent saying they’re not mad, they’re just disappointed. I was trying to take you somewhere cool, but both the places I took you, you ended up getting hurt. All I’mtrying to do is keep you safe, and I’m doing the opposite. Whenever I try to do something nice…people get hurt. You get hurt. I get hurt.” He exhales again. “Sorry. I sound like a child.”
“Kit, really. It’s fine. I know you’re not trying to hurt me.” He needs my body, so of course, he isn’t.
“You should try to get some sleep,” he suggests.
“It’s not really sleep, what I do in here,” I say.
“It’s close.”
“Could you maybe—” I start but stop when I think better of it.
He prods, “What? I’ll do anything.”
Be with me in here, was my almost-request, but that’s a silly thought. I amend my suggestion with something else that would make me feel better. “Talk to me? I think…I need to think out loud.”
“Sure. I love talking to you.”
Are demons even allowed to use words like that?Love. I won’t push it. Talking to him is easy—comfortable. Just as comfortable as thinking is.
“So,” I start. “Ghosts are real.”
He doesn’t state the obvious fact that this was something I already believed. Something I already had solid proof of. All he offers back is, “They are.”
I flip on my side. “Ghosts likethatare real. Not just the nice, normal ones I usually interact with. That was some shit straight out of a horror movie.”
I sense his smirk. “You say like you’re not literally possessed by a demon right now.”
“You’re different,” I argue. “I mean, Kit, I’m honestly notsure if I should be creeped out or flattered that you possessed my sister so you could give me a hug.” He gave me a hug in someone’s body who I feel comfortable hugging, who he knew would feel comfortable hugging me back.
“I’m hoping for the latter, personally.”
“Yeah, I think it was sweet.”
Kit doesn’t argue against the word this time. “I just wanted to help you feel better.”
“Like I said, sweet.”
What an odd adjective for a demon, yet I keep using it. He’s consistently sweet with me.
