And five thousand dollars that he may or may not have used to imply I was a prostitute.
You see why I liked the hoodie most, right?
Although, that little ghost was pretty cute too.
Why leave anything at all?
I guess, really, in the end, it didn’t matter what he left behind because he hadn’t cared enough to stay.
CHAPTER
TWELVE
Ghost
Two years later, present day…
I was minding my own business when fate called and said, “Let’s make things interesting.”
That interesting part? The blond kryptonite I’d planned to never see again and a new bullet hole in my right shoulder.
Just consider me flocked in fortune.
It’s no wonder I could have really used a cigarette. Even after two years of not lighting up, I still craved that first soothing, controlled pull on a freshly lit smoke. The way that harsh biting sensation usurped everything for a brief moment, the bitterness masking everything else.
But it was a habit I’d given up, an urge I’d continue to deny.
The catalyst for such sacrifice, someone I planned to never see again, was currently breathing the same air as me. And you know, I had a bone to pick with him.
I blinked up at the ceiling in the dimly lit room, not sure what time it was but realizing it was the middle of the night because the only light came from the half-open bathroomdoor. Streaking across the ceiling, the beam diffused fast and offered just enough illumination so I could make out the shapes of my bestie’s bedroom.
Wooo-heee, I’d bet he was two seconds away from a total crash out because I was in his bed. Eye had probably twitched right out of his head by now.
Just between us, Kieran was not just type A. He was type A+ with extra credit. Pretty sure chaos had taken out a restraining order against him a while ago.
But fate called him too. What did he get? A human banana peel of a man that slipped into trouble without even taking a single step.
It was entertaining as hell to watch.
And in a sense, that’s how I’d ended up here. Should have known the tiny terror tornado known as Haz would also upend my world.
Turning my head, I expected to see Pip lying on the mattress beside me, except the blankets were pulled up, the pillow untouched.
The shock of it caused me to jolt upright, pain shooting through my shoulder.
Willing to give him the benefit of the doubt, I glanced around the room for a chair. You know, that he would be keeping vigil in. There was no chair. There was no vigil.
Did I just get shot for nothing, then?
The audacity of Pip to show up in my life again, nearly get himself killed, and then not even sit beside me while I healed from the bullet I’d taken for him…
Yes, I said I never planned to see him again, but this wasjust rude.
Tossing back the blankets, I got out of bed, ignoring the woozy rush as I stood. Nobody had time for that. Grabbing the stupid IV pole, I started forward, only to nearly trip and die.
“What the—” The swear cut off practically as soon as it began when I saw the pale lump curled up on the floor in the fetal position. We’d spent only one night together, but I would know him anywhere.
My stomach swooped, dipping almost to my toes, while my heart started running like it decided to train for a marathon. And my instincts? Went apeshit because what in the fuck was he doing on the floor like that?
