“Delilah for the win.” Luke chuckled.
“They really have those jobs in Hell?”
Luke nodded. “Made worse because no one gets paid there. They do that shit for free. Pun fully intended.”
She groaned out loud at his bad joke. “So, my takeaway is that I need to be in church more often.”
“Couldn’t hurt.” He pulled his hair back into that strangely sexy man bun.
Awesome. “This job is going to make me crazy.”
Luke backed up, out of the drive. “Life makes me crazy. Nothing is more of a mind fuck than humanity. Give me the damned any day. They’re usually much more dependable. Evil things do evil things. When it’s human, it looks all warm and fluffy like the Monty Python bunny. Turn your back…it goes for throat.”
He had a valid point.
“Bert,” she said under her breath.
Luke arched his brow. “Tourette’s Syndrome again?”
“Ex-boyfriend who randomly sends me into it. He was just what you describe. A genuinely nice guy. Mr. Harmless. Opens the door for you. Pretends to be unable to hurt anyone or lie. Goes to church on Sunday, pretending to be kind and decent. Biggest fucking liar and vindictive bastard ever born. Wouldn’t know the truth if it tackled him to the ground and choked him out…which I’d like to see it do, just once.”
“I know the generic losers you’re talking about. Would it make you feel better to know there really is a special place in Hell for them?”
“Actually, yes.”
“Then take heart. We love to torment them for eternity, and Hell is the one place no one believes their bullshit. We do actually make them choke on it and other, sometimes literal, shit, too.”
Wow. It was incredible how that little bit of knowledge lightened her day.
“Then I’ll never mention him again.”
Luke shrugged. “Doesn’t bother me. Get it off your chest so it doesn’t fester. Nothing good ever comes from keeping things bottled.” The sincerity of his comment shocked her. He meant that.
“Thank you.”
He pulled out of the gravel drive and headed back toward town.
“Where are we going now?”
“Talk to a wicked witch. Maybe get some food.”
Chapter
Seven
Sorcha held up her phone. “I have a witch on speed dial.” While Trish might not be wicked, she could be evil, depending on the topic.
And her mood.
But in all honesty, Trish was the only reason Sorcha was still here. How many times had she called Trish, crying after she’d lost her sister? She couldn’t begin to count them all. Not once in all these years had Trish rolled Sorcha’s calls to voicemail. And Sorcha wouldn’t have blamed her for doing it.
It’d been such an awful time.
Even at the funeral, it’d been Trish who’d held her hand and promised her that one day she’d learn to smile again.
That they would find the one responsible.
Justice will be met.
