Ghosted

Chapter Twenty-Eight

I’m drowning in my own body, fighting for every breath, choking as I struggle to see through the blackness that floats in front of my eyes. I’m sure I’m dying, or already dead, or worse. Entombed in my own body, forever the vessel for the spirits that writhe with fury inside me.

But it doesn’t matter. Because nothing matters except that Edward Western has been stopped and Callum will live. He will live because I saved him. I finally saved someone I love. If I die now, it will all be worth it.

As my consciousness slowly fades and darkness surrounds me, a gentle voice inside my mind whispers, We are free .

My eyes flicker open, and I roll onto my back and hungrily fill my lungs with air, sucking in deep breaths while blinking clear my vision.

Rosing lies directly in front of me, broken but alive.

Edward Western is a heap at the foot of the stairs, his once intense eyes now blank and unseeing, while Callum sags against the wall, his arm stained with streaks of red.

I crawl across the floor towards him, touch his chin and lift his face.

He looks up. ‘You’re back. Holly… I thought you were dead.’

I kiss him. First on his lips, then on his forehead, then on his lips again. ‘I’m not that easy to get rid of.’

I gently pull his hand away from his throat. There’s a small slice where Western’s knife was pressed against it.

‘I hear guys with scars are considered sexy,’ he says.

‘Always with the jokes, Jefferies. Let me look at your arm.’

‘Your eyes went black, Holly. They were black.’

‘Okay,’ I say, wrapping the cloth back around his wound. ‘You’ll live. You’ve had worse.’ I untie his bound ankles.

‘Did you hear me? They went black. Your eyes.’

I nod. ‘I heard you.’

He puts a hand on either side of my face, his eyes darting between mine. ‘Is it just you in there?’

‘Just me. Everyone else is gone. Passed on, finally. Free. Come on, we need to go.’

I help him stand. He stumbles towards a table and picks up his gun.

‘I have to do one thing first,’ he says, and points the gun at Rosing’s head.

Mr Rosing raises his hands in defence, whimpering, ‘No! Please!’

I rush forward and grab Callum’s arm. ‘Callum, you can’t.’

‘He killed my parents.’

Rosing moans on the ground. ‘I didn’t. It was the driver.’

‘Who you paid.’

‘Mr Western—’

‘ You organised it. You die. Let go, Holly.’ Callum tugs his arm free.

‘Please don’t do this,’ I say. ‘You’ll never forgive yourself.’

‘Oh, I think I will.’

‘No, you won’t. I know you. This isn’t you.’

‘This is me. Didn’t you hear anything Western said? I come from a long line of murderers.’ His voice shakes, the gun trembling as he aims it at the man cowering on the floor. ‘My parents died because of me, and now he dies because of that. You don’t know who I am. Even I don’t know who I am.’

I touch his chin and turn his face towards me.

‘You can’t blame yourself for what Western did, and I do know who you are.

You’re Callum Jefferies, son of Lyle and Niamh, nephew of Aideen, friend of Jason, and someone…

’ I swallow. ‘Someone I love. You’re not a murderer.

I couldn’t love anyone who would kill like this. ’

He blinks, then blinks again and shakes his head, as if clearing his mind.

‘You love me? After what I did? Knowing what I am? You love me?’

‘Yeah, I know. Amazing. But your fucked-up family is not your fault.’ I cup his cheek. ‘I know how scary everything is right now, but this,’ I touch the gun, pushing the barrel down, ‘is not you.’

‘You love me?’ he says again, this time with a small smile.

I laugh. ‘I’m going to stop loving you in about thirty seconds if you keep asking me that.’ I gently unwrap Callum’s fingers from the gun and take it from him. Squatting beside Rosing, I ask, ‘Do you have a phone?’

He nods, wincing as he indicates his jacket pocket.

I reach in and pull it out. ‘Mr Rosing, I’m going to dial 911, and you’re going to tell them there’s been a terrible accident. Mr Western took a tumble down the stairs into the cellar and grabbed you as he fell, taking you with him. Got it?’

He nods again.

‘Good. You’re a bit beaten up, but you’ll survive. But if I hear anything from you ever again, I won’t stop Callum from putting a bullet in your brain.’ I dial 911 then hand the phone to him, watching as Mr Rosing relays my story.

‘What about Western?’ Callum asks.

‘He’s still breathing. But whatever the spirits did to him, I don’t think he’s coming back from it. I think he’s trapped, like they once were. It would be sweet irony if he ended up in Lakeview Hospital.’

‘We should keep tabs on him,’ Callum says, tapping his great-uncle with his foot. ‘I don’t trust this fucker.’

‘We will. But we need to go now, before the paramedics get here.’ As I step over Edward Western’s motionless body, his pale skin now grey, his unnatural glow dimmed, I bend down and whisper in his ear, ‘You underestimated the women you murdered, and you underestimated me, and together we beat you.’

I’m almost certain hatred flickers across the surface of his glazed golden eyes.

As we jog up the path away from the old house, there’s energy all around me.

The buzz of old life, whispers of voices once lived, the kind of vibrations I’d expect from a place that has been a home for nearly four hundred years.

The veil that had been suppressing the sounds of the dead has been lifted, and now they babble in my ear. For once, I’m happy to hear them.

‘Can I… get a ride home?’ Callum asks with a sheepish smile.

‘First I have to save you from demonic immortality and now I have to drive you home ?’ I grin, then press a soft kiss to his lips. ‘You’re going to be okay.’

‘I’ve got a lot to digest, you know?’

I do know. I know all too well , I think as sirens ring out through the night.

We don’t talk much on the way back to the city. Callum mostly sleeps and I wonder how long it’s been since he was able to do that.

I drop him at his apartment. ‘You sure you don’t want company?’ I ask.

He looks down at the gash on his arm. ‘I think I should get this stitched up first. That’s right, I’m going to a hospital voluntarily.’

‘I could come with you.’

‘I’d rather do it on my own, if that’s okay? Just need a minute to decompress.’

‘Of course it’s okay. It’s good you’re going somewhere in the city.

If you went back to the doctor at that local hospital he’d probably report you for gang violence…

or having a knife kink.’ That makes him laugh, and his laugh makes me smile.

‘Callum, you’re going to need some time to understand what’s happened to you.

But just know that I’ll be here when you’re ready to talk. ’

‘I know. Get some sleep, hero, I’ll see you tomorrow.’ He smiles then kisses me and climbs out of the car. ‘Oh wait,’ he says turning back around. He leans in the door again. ‘I love you too.’

When I finally close my apartment door I lean back against it and sigh, never so glad to be home.

I toss my backpack to the floor, fish out my phone, and send a quick text to Jason to let him know we’re safe, though I suspect Callum has already done the same.

As I stumble up the hall, I unbutton my jeans and shrug off my jacket, letting it fall to the floor.

I’m more tired than I’ve been in my entire life, but I’m happy.

Happy? What the hell is that? I laugh. My hands have yet to completely steady, and I’m still trembling a little from a force I don’t fully understand, but I feel pretty good, all things considered. In fact, I feel kind of great.

‘Maybe I really am the Ghost Whisperer?’ I say to myself in the mirror. Then I scrunch up my face and laugh. ‘Nah.’

I flop onto my bed, wishing I’d gone to the hospital with Callum.

I don’t like the thought of him being on his own with all that must be churning through his mind.

It’s hard enough slowly discovering your supernatural self.

I can’t imagine what it would be like to have it come crashing down, obliterating the life you thought you knew.

I send him a text to let him know I’m thinking of him.

He answers with two heart emojis, and I hug my phone to my chest.

Gathering my laptop from the floor beside me, I prop myself up on a pile of pillows. There’s something I have to do. I start an email.

Hi Dad and Maggie.

I know I’ve been distant and useless at staying in touch, but I’m going to do better, I promise.

Can I come for a visit? Or dinner? I don’t care whose house.

I could even do something here if you don’t want the bother, though I might need some help with the cooking part.

Or we could get takeout. Anyway, let me know. I love you guys so much.

Miss you.

Holly xx

I wipe away the tears that have caught me off guard and press send with a trembling hand, then grab a tissue and blow my nose so loudly I make myself laugh. To my surprise, it only takes a minute for a reply to come back. It’s from Maggie.

Hey Hol!

You’re always welcome here. Call me. I promise to be nicer than my last text.

Maggie xxx

I’m drifting off to sleep, my laptop still open on my chest, when Dad replies.

Honey, this is your home. You never have to ask. I’m thinking of firing up the grill on the weekend if you’re hungry for some spicy ribs?

Love, Dad.

Fat tears splash onto my keyboard. I slide down my mattress, clutching my covers tight around me as my body shakes.

It’s as if everything I’ve hung on to for years, everything I buried inside me releases all at once, freeing me, just like the spirits I helped to free.

Anger and hurt, fear and self-loathing pours out in huge, snotty sobs, gulps of breath and hiccups of laughter. It feels so good to let it all go.

I run my palm down my wet face, sniffling as I shake my head. If this is your doing, Elizabeth, thank you. I hope you’ve found your peace too . Because that’s how it feels – peaceful. My usually churned-up insides are at peace. At least for now.

I close my laptop and gently place it on the floor, pull the covers back up and smile. It’s starting to look like I won’t be found alone eaten by rats after all.

I wake up feeling wonderfully light. Is this what happy is?

I check my phone and see that I have two messages from Callum.

I quickly let him know I’m awake and okay, then climb out of bed and pull back the drapes.

The sun streams in, and I bathe in its light, enjoying the warmth of a brand-new day.

I’ve been imbued with new knowledge that Elizabeth and the spirits left behind, whispered words that float back to me as if I’m living someone else’s memories.

They drew me to East Mill. They fed me clues, trying to keep me safe until they knew I was strong enough to break the bond that had trapped them there.

Strong enough to contain the fury of the murdered.

I hate the thought of how long they had to wait.

How long Elizabeth had to wait for her family to show up for her.

I make coffee and toast, drop onto the couch with a satisfied sigh, grab the TV remote and flick on the local news.

Immediately, my jaw drops. There’s been a fire in East Mill; a historic home has been razed to the ground.

The owner is in an unresponsive condition in the hospital, and another man has been seriously injured.

Local fire personnel fought hard to save the house, but tragically, the building was lost. I stare at the images of the smouldering ruins.

My phone rings, and I know who it is without even looking.

‘Put on the news,’ Callum says.

‘I’m watching it now. You didn’t go back and burn it down, did you?’

‘I was about to ask you the same thing.’

‘Not me,’ I say, thinking, Elizabeth? We watch in silence until the end of the report.

‘So,’ he says, as the news moves on to the latest in sports. ‘How’d you sleep?’

‘Like a log.’ I’m not exaggerating. I woke up in almost exactly the same position I was in when I shut my eyes. ‘How did you go with the doctor?’

‘Just a couple of stitches in my arm.’

‘Good… and… how are you feeling today about… things?’

He’s silent for a few seconds, then says, ‘Angry, tired, and a whole lot of other stuff. But I don’t want to talk about it right now, if that’s okay?’

‘Of course it’s okay.’

‘So,’ he starts, his tone brighter, ‘are you busy tonight?’

‘No. I mean, I assumed I’d be seeing you…’

‘I’ll pick you up at seven.’

‘You’ll pick me up? Like a date?’

‘Exactly like a date. I told you; you and me, Holly, we’re going to start this thing off right.’