Paralyzed

Chapter 7

T he alarm went off sooner than Nathan would have liked. His dreams were fractured, at best. He remembered reliving the accident and then seeing Erik with Alan. Erik had been angry at Nathan, screaming at him silently with words he couldn’t hear over the roar of the fire consuming his parents’ car. Somehow, Nathan sensed Erik had found out about his secret and Alan’s presence. It only made his guilt triple, and he almost drowned in the emotion. Nathan could only watch helplessly as Erik turned to Alan and cupped the spirit’s cheek as Erik leaned in to kiss him. The disturbing sound of the clock blaring its annoying beep had ripped him from the nightmare the second before Erik’s lips would have met Alan’s.

Nathan trembled beneath his sheets for several long moments after slapping off the alarm. The events in his nightmare only made him even more certain a relationship with Erik could never happen. “Nate, you awake?” Troy’s voice came through the door.

“Yeah,” he called back.

“See you in ten then,” Troy said.

Dragging himself out of bed, Nathan stumbled to his dresser. He dressed in the dark, the moonlight streaming through the window providing enough light to see. His huge yawn echoed in the near barren room as he located his keys and wallet.

“Nathan?”

Nathan jumped about a foot off the ground. He swung around and glared at Alan. “Now you’re in my apartment, too?”

“I’m sorry, Nathan. I needed to talk to you.” Alan drifted closer.

“Stay back,” Nathan growled.

“Did you tell him last night?” Alan asked.

Nathan jammed his wallet into his back pocket and the keys to his place in his front pocket. “No, I didn’t have the chance.”

Alan grew solemn and Nathan sucked in a breath at the instant melancholy inundating him. “You promised you would,” Alan whispered.

“I said I would and I will. When it’s the right time. It’s not like I can go to him and say hey, guess what, your dead fiancé is here and he wants to tell you something. That’s what got me locked up in a mental institution the first time!”

“You were in a mental hospital?” Alan asked in surprise. “Why?”

“Gee, I wonder why,” Nathan answered sarcastically. “Because the doctors saw me ‘talking to myself’ and claiming I could see ghosts. They thought I was having a mental breakdown.”

A knock at the bedroom door stalled whatever else he would have said. “You all right in there, Nate?”

“I’m fine,” Nathan called out. “Just the friendly neighborhood ghost is here.”

The door opened and Troy stepped in, frowning. “He can’t even leave you alone here? No sense of boundaries. Hey, jackass, why don’t you stay out of Nate’s apartment? You don’t belong here. In fact, just leave all together and don’t come back.”

Alan glared at Troy and floated to his side. “You’re a rude bastard, ain’t ya?”

Nathan snorted and Troy growled. “He’s smart mouthing again, isn’t he?”

“Don’t worry about it, Troy. He won’t be around for long. I hope.” Alan gave him a hurt look, which he ignored. “Let’s just go. I only have a few hours before I have to get to the store.”

“Going to stop for coffee on the way,” Troy muttered, still looking around the room as if he could spot Alan.

“Wait,” Alan demanded. “You haven’t told me what happened last night.”

“And I’m not going to. At least not right now,” Nathan said. “I’ve got things to do.”

Alan sniffed. “Fine. I’ll be waiting for you at work.”

“Oh boy, lucky me,” Nathan said sarcastically.

Alan huffed. “You don’t have to be so nasty.”

Nathan rolled his eyes but didn’t reply, walking out of the room behind Troy. They left his apartment and were on the road in less than a minute. Troy pulled into a drive-through to order coffee for them. The window attendant was barely awake as she handed Troy his change and the two cups with sugar packets and cream containers. Nathan sighed in pleasure when he opened the little tab on the lid of his cup, and he poured in five sugars and two creams. A moan slid free as he got his first sip of the strong liquid.

Troy chuckled as he pulled forward and stopped long enough to add three packages of sugar and two creams to his coffee. “I don’t know how you can enjoy it like that.”

“Because it tastes amazing.”

They’d had this conversation more times than Nathan could remember. It always came out the same. “Aunt Becky and Aunt Jessica are waiting for us. Let’s go.”

“Keep your shorts on,” Troy said as he tossed his garbage into the compartment meant for change or some other such thing. He covered his coffee and put the car back into Drive. Nathan didn’t even have to direct Troy on how to get to his aunts’ house. They’d been there so many times it was routine.

There were several lights on in the two-story house when they arrived twenty minutes later. Troy turned off the car, and they exited the vehicle. Nathan didn’t knock, just entered the house. “Aunt Jessica? Aunt Becky?”

“In the kitchen, sweetie,” Jessica shouted.

Nathan and Troy walked into the kitchen to find Nathan’s aunts sitting at the table eating breakfast. Becky smiled at them and jumped up from her chair to give them both a hug. “It’s good to see you, Troy. Nate, you are still far too skinny,” she chastised. “And what the hell happened to your face?”

Becky looked a lot like Nathan’s mom. Tall and statuesque, she had dark hair down to her waist and bright green eyes that shone like emeralds when she was happy or excited about something. Nathan couldn’t remember ever seeing her any way but bubbly except at his parents’ funeral and the day they’d committed him to the mental hospital. They’d allowed him to attend his parents’ funeral before, but he could still see the guilt and shame on her face as they’d taken him away.

“It’s nothing, Aunt Becky.”

“It’s not nothing,” Troy said. “Someone mugged him the other night.”

“Mugged!” Becky screeched, and Nathan winced.

“I’m fine. I just got a little scratched up.”

“A little? You look like hell,” Jessica said drily.

Nathan huffed. “I promise I’m fine.”

“He doesn’t eat enough either.” Troy moved around the table to give Jessica a hug and kiss as well. “No matter how often I try to shove food down his throat.”

“You aren’t working too hard, are you, Nate?” Jessica asked.

Jessica was the exact opposite of Becky: petite and slender with bright blonde hair and hazel-green eyes. She was moodier and quiet, a fact Nathan had appreciated when he’d finally convinced everyone he was no longer seeing things and had come to live with them.

Nathan wanted to smack Troy for feeding the fire, but he restrained himself and gave a weak smile as he hugged Jessica and kissed her cheek. “No, Aunt Jessica.”

She leaned back to eye him and poked his stomach. “Going to bring you pastries and stuff to put some weight on you.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Nathan protested.

“I certainly do. If you don’t start gaining weight, I’m going to be there every day to make sure you eat.”

Becky chuckled and took her plate to the sink. “I think you better listen to her, Nate. She doesn’t mess around when she really wants something.”

Jessica stood and went to the fridge, where she pulled out a box of guava pastries. She shoved it at Nathan. “Eat something. We still have a couple of hours before you have to leave for work, and I won’t allow you to move furniture until you eat.”

Nathan grumbled but sat down to eat at least one. It tasted like sawdust in his mouth, but he gave his aunts a weak smile as he choked the pastry down. Troy also snatched one from the box and munched on it as he chatted with Becky and Jessica. The conversation topic rolled around from Troy’s classes to his latest love interest and then Nathan heard a name that made him lift his head in alarm.

“You finally have a young man, Nate?” Becky asked in excitement, her dark eyes glittering with intrigue.

Glaring at Troy, Nathan furiously shook his head. “No, Aunt Becky. He’s just a customer at the store.”

“Oh.”

“A customer he had dinner with last night,” Troy teased.

Becky perked up again. “Tell me all about him!” she demanded.

Nathan flushed. “There’s nothing to tell,” he said, trying to deflect the interest.

Becky slid into the seat next to him. “Of course there is! I want to know about the first person who caught your eye finally.”

Nathan knew if he didn’t give her something, she’d never leave him be. Sighing, he said, “His name is Erik. He’s older than me by at least several years.”

“Pssh.” Becky waved off the age difference. “I’m almost ten years older than Jessica. Age doesn’t matter when the heart is involved.”

“The heart’s not involved, Aunt Becky,” Nathan said. “I met him at the store when he came in to buy a CD. Someone stole his out of his truck.”

“Is he a cowboy?” Becky asked.

Nathan raised an eyebrow. “What would a cowboy be doing in a place like this?”

“He drives a truck, doesn’t he?”

“That doesn’t make him a cowboy, Aunt Becky. He works in construction.”

“Ooooh, I bet he’s got a nice body,” Becky mused.

“Aunt Becky!” Nathan groaned and covered his eyes with one hand. “He’s taller than me, with dark brown hair and hazel eyes.”

“Does he have a nice body?” Jessica chimed in.

He sighed. “Yes.”

Becky squealed and Nathan winced. “My baby nephew has finally caught himself a man!”

“I haven’t caught anyone, Aunt Becky!”

Troy coughed to cover his laughter and Nathan snarled at him. He’d get Troy back. Somehow. “Can we just get this done? I have to get to the store by eight thirty to prep the register and put out the Saturday sale signs.”

“I’ll let you off the hook for now,” Becky replied, smirking. “But don’t think I won’t have you back on it soon.”

Nathan mumbled under his breath and stood from his chair, heading to the living room to move furniture away from the walls. He and Troy worked together hefting the heavier furniture. Then they moved to the dining room and into the hallways.

Nathan’s aunts wanted to paint the entire downstairs except the kitchen and bathroom. They were the type of people who needed a change every few years. He’d spent many hours doing this same thing quite a few times over the last several years—and even before his parents’ deaths. He could still remember his mom waking him before dawn and carrying him to the car when he’d been a child, then leading him yawning to the car as he’d gotten older. His aunts always had pastries and donuts waiting for them when they’d gotten there, much like this morning.

The memories saddened him, and he grew even more silent as everyone worked together. He missed his parents more than anything. He’d give his own life if he could go back and prevent them from leaving the party. It wasn’t as though he had a lot to show for the six years since then.

Erik popped into his head immediately, followed by Alan. He never should have agreed to let Erik call him at the store. Maybe he should just have someone else answer the phone all day and have them tell him he wasn’t able to talk. There was no way he had room in his life for the complications getting involved with Erik would cause. Aside from Alan, Nathan’s life was a mess, and he had no right dragging a confident, successful person like Erik into it.

“Are you really that mad at me, bro?” Troy’s question didn’t register at first. “Nate?”

Blinking, Nathan glanced over at Troy. “What? Oh. No.”

“Come on, Nate. You’ve been giving me the silent treatment for the last hour.”

“I’ve just got a lot on my mind, Troy. I’m not mad.” Troy gave him a skeptical look. “Seriously!”

“If you’re sure,” Troy accepted hesitantly.

“I promise I’m not mad.”

Troy seemed satisfied with his answer, and they worked at a fast clip to finish moving the rest of the furniture. Nathan kept looking at his watch to make sure he would have enough time to get to work.

When they’d finished, Nathan rushed to say goodbye to his aunts. “Gotta run, Aunt Becky, Jessica. Only got thirty minutes to make it across town to the store. Love you both! Don’t move any of the furniture on your own! We’ll come back after the paint is dry to put it back.”

Becky waved off his demand. “We’re too old to try that again.”

Jessica had put out her back the last time they’d tried. “Good!” Nathan said and kissed both their cheeks.

Troy gave them hugs and snatched another pastry from the kitchen before they headed out to the car. Nathan remained quiet on the way. He sensed Troy looking at him as he drove, knowing he was making Troy worry again. A headache began nagging behind his eyes. The more stressed he became, the worse it would get. Damn, if this kept up, he’d have to cancel his gig at Java Bean tonight. Sighing, Nathan rubbed at his temples.

“Headache?” Troy asked as he parked the car in front of the store.

Nathan nodded. “Thanks for your help today, Troy, and the ride to work.”

“Of course, Nate. You know you don’t have to thank me. I’m glad to do it.”

“I’ll see you later,” Nathan said, opening the car door and then stepping out.

Troy leaned over the center console. “You think you’ll be up for your set at Java?”

“I don’t know. I hope so.”

“Call me if not and I’ll give you a lift home, okay?”

“I will. See ya.”

Nathan slammed the door shut and walked over to the front of the music store. He undid the lock and entered, closing and then locking the door behind him. The usual activity of clocking in, setting out the sale signs, and adding the cash drawer to the register had a calming effect, and the headache dulled. Until Alan scared the crap out of him by popping out of the storage room when Nathan went to grab two more signs from the back. Nathan jumped backward, knocking over a small display.

Scowling, Nathan snapped, “Can’t you give me one day of peace?”

The headache flared once more, throbbing behind his eyes and at his temples. Nathan set the shelf to rights.

“Sorry, Nathan,” Alan said remorsefully.

Grumbling, Nathan finished putting all the CDs back on the rack and turned around to glare at Alan. “You are going to be the death of me.”

“That’s not true,” Alan protested, floating behind Nathan as he entered the storage room to get what he needed.

Nathan pulled two of the sale signs from the usual drawer. “Yes, you are.”

Alan frowned. “If you’d just tell Erik about me, maybe I’d be able to move on.”

Nathan let out a snort. “Somehow, I have a feeling you’re never going away.”

“Am I really that bad?”

“About as welcome as a hemorrhoid.”

“Ouch.”

He left the back room to finish preparing the register and straightening the front counter. There were still ten minutes until the store officially opened for business, and he took the time to lean on the counter and rest his once again throbbing head on his forearm.

“You okay, Nathan?” Alan asked nearby.

“I’m fine,” he mumbled back.

“Are you sure? You look a little pale.”

“It’s just a headache.”

“My dad used to suffer from migraines, too. Do you have any medication for it?”

Nathan sighed. “No. The doctor at the hospital I was in won’t sign off on a prescription for one unless I’m strictly monitored because of my risk of suicide. Or at least that’s what he says is the reason.”

“What the hell?” Alan demanded. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Is it? Most of the people in that hospital are supposed to be there. Wouldn’t you think I was off-balance too if you saw me talking to thin air? When you were alive, I mean? I’d have been right there with you if it wasn’t me.”

Nathan raised his head and peered at the clock. “Please disappear for the day. I can’t concentrate when you’re here.”

“You still haven’t told me what happened with Erik last night. Did you tell him?”

“No. I didn’t. It wasn’t the right time.”

“Nathan,” Alan whined and drifted closer.

“Damn it. What did I tell you about space? And we’re doing this my way. He’s not ready to hear it.”

Alan backed away and folded his arms with a huff. “When are you seeing him again?”

Never if he could help it. “I don’t know.”

“How are you going to help me if you don’t see him?”

“I’ll figure it out. Now leave.”

Nathan heard a knock and glanced over to see Quinn standing at the front door. He could see the quizzical expression on Quinn’s face, which meant he had seen Nathan talking to no one. Shit. This was getting more and more invasive by the day. Nathan gave a weak smile and headed over to unlock the door.

“Morning, Nate. Who are you talking to?” Quinn asked, looking around the store.

“Just myself,” Nathan said.

He could tell Quinn didn’t really believe him, but Quinn didn’t press it. He walked into the back room to clock in. Nathan turned to Alan and hissed, “Leave now.”

“Okay, I’m going. I’ll be back, though.”

“Great!” Nathan replied sarcastically.

Alan sighed with impatience but disappeared, much to Nathan’s relief. His absence didn’t really help the headache that was aiming for a full-blown migraine. Nathan narrowly missed knocking over a display in a wave of dizziness about halfway through the day. When Quinn called his name while he was restocking returns, he winced. He looked toward Quinn and saw him holding the phone, one hand covering the receiver. Nathan shook his head and went back to work. He couldn’t deal with Erik right now.

Nathan’s schedule had him at the store until five, but at about two in the afternoon, Quinn came to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You don’t look so good, man. Maybe you should go home.”

“No,” Nathan replied through gritted teeth. It took every ounce of strength he had not to upchuck right in the aisle where he stood.

“Then at least go lie down in the stockroom for a while. I’ve got some Excedrin if you want it.”

“It won’t help.”

Quinn grabbed Nathan’s arm when he swayed. “Whoa, Nate. I’m calling Troy. Go sit down, now. I can handle things here until Tom gets in at five. It’s been pretty slow today.”

For once, Nathan didn’t argue. Quinn helped him to the stool behind the counter, where Nathan promptly laid his head down and tried to breathe through the never-ending pain. He heard Quinn pick up the phone and a few seconds later, Quinn told Troy he needed to come get Nathan.

Damn, he really hated relying on anyone, but he couldn’t even stand without wanting to pass out. When Troy arrived fifteen minutes later, Nathan could barely lift his head. Troy let out a loud epitaph and hefted Nathan off the stool and into his arms. “You should have called me sooner, Nate,” Troy said with a grunt as he carried Nathan to the front of the store.

Quinn held the door for him. “Is he going to be okay?”

“He gets terrible migraines from time to time,” Troy replied as Quinn hurried to open the passenger door of his car. “He’ll be fine.”

“If you’re sure…” Quinn hesitated. “Maybe you should take him to the hospital.”

“No!” Nathan burst out and instantly regretted it. His head almost exploded, and he groaned, closing his eyes in agony.

Troy set him down inside the car and stepped back, shutting the door. “He hates hospitals. Long story and not mine to tell, Quinn. I promise he’ll be okay.”

Quinn leaned in the open window. “I hope you feel better soon, Nate. Can’t lose my wingman, huh?”

Nathan peered at Quinn through mere cracks in his eyelids and tried to smile, but his entire face hurt. “Never.”

“What should I tell your guy when he calls back?” Quinn asked.

“He’s not my guy,” Nathan murmured. “Just tell him I had to go home.”

“Sure thing, Nate. See you on Monday. Get some rest. I’ll handle Stuart.”

“Thanks, Quinn,” Nathan said.

Troy slid into the driver’s seat and started the car. Nathan had closed his eyes again and tried to will the migraine to recede. He didn’t know why he bothered, since it had never worked in the past. The ride seemed to take forever and when Troy finally turned off the car, Nathan opened his eyes to find them parked in front of his aunts’ house.

“Why’d you bring me here?” Nathan whispered. “Take me home.”

“This is your home, Nate. Your aunts can take care of you.”

“I don’t want to be a burden on them.”

“Shut up, Nate.” Troy got out of the car and went around to Nathan’s side. “Can you walk now, or do you need me to carry you?”

“I can walk,” Nathan said as he climbed out of the car. He got about two feet before dizziness swamped him again and he almost crumpled to the ground. Troy caught him and lifted him into his arms. Nathan heard the words “stubborn” and “bullheaded” as Troy walked up the steps and hit the doorbell.

Jessica opened the door and went into action the minute she saw Nathan’s face. “Upstairs. You know which room is his. I’ll get Becky.”

Troy nodded and took the stairs to Nathan’s old room. He turned the handle and got the door open without dropping Nathan. Becky rushed into the room behind them. She yanked down the sheets and gestured for Troy to set him down. “Troy, can you get me a cold washcloth, please?”

“Sure thing, Aunt Becky.” Troy disappeared into the adjoining bathroom to get the cloth.

Becky removed Nathan’s sneakers and covered him with the quilt. She sighed as she brushed the hair back from his face. “I wish you’d come to me when you need help, Nate. I hate seeing you like this.”

Nathan smiled weakly. “I already owe you so much, Aunt Becky.”

“Oh pooh! You don’t owe me a thing, sweetie. We’re family, and family means loving each other through health and sickness.”

Troy returned with the cloth, which Becky placed on his forehead. “Stay with him for a minute, Troy. I want to get the eucalyptus oil.”

She hurried out of the room, and Troy grabbed the chair from Nathan’s old desk and set it next to the bed. He straddled it and rested his chin on the back.

Becky couldn’t have been gone more than a minute before she was back. Perching on the edge of the bed, she opened the little jar and placed her finger on the opening, turning it over twice. She gently massaged the oil into one temple, then the next, and along the forehead, with a small touch under his nose.

“That should help to calm it a little. I wish those damn doctors would at least prescribe you something! They can’t let you continue to suffer like this.”

“I’m fine,” Nathan murmured and closed his eyes. He heard Troy stand.

“I’m going to leave you to rest, Nate. I’ll call later to find out how you’re doing.”

Nathan huffed in acknowledgement. Becky leaned over and placed a kiss on the top of his head. “We’ll let you be for now, sweetie. If you need anything, just call out and we’ll hear you, okay?”

“’K.” Nathan drifted into unconsciousness.

W hen Nathan woke sometime later, the headache was mostly gone. Twilight peeped in through the curtains and he could tell he wouldn’t make it to his gig that night. He needed to call Java Bean and let Curtis, the owner, know. He reached out and snapped on the little lamp on the nightstand. The sudden light caused him to squint, and he waited a moment for his eyes to adjust before reaching to grab the phone near the bed.

It took more than one attempt to dial the right number, but eventually he got it. The phone rang twice and then a voice came over the line. “Java Bean.”

“Bella, it’s Nate. I need to speak with Curtis.”

“Nate! How are you feeling? I heard you were sick.”

Nathan frowned. How did she already know? “I’m doing okay. Is Curtis available?”

“Sure thing, Nate. One sec.” Nathan heard her set the phone down and shout for Curtis. A minute later, Curtis’ voice came over the phone.

“Nate, my man, how you feeling?”

What the hell? “Hey, Curtis. I wanted to let you know I can’t make tonight’s set.”

“No worries, man. Troy called earlier to let me know. Told me about your migraine. My sister gets those, so I know how bad they can be. You doing any better?”

Nathan should have known Troy would call Curtis. “A bit. Not enough to make it in, though.”

“Not a problem. I just changed it to an open mic night. Give me a shout tomorrow if you think you won’t make it in for Sunday’s set, okay? I hope you feel better soon. I gotta run, but we’ll talk tomorrow.”

“Sure, Curtis. See ya.” Nathan set the phone back on the base.

Nathan stared at the ceiling. He kept trying to break free of the obligations piling up, and yet somehow, they always seemed to continue to place more strings around him. Erik came into his mind and Nathan groaned, yanking a pillow over his face. The man haunted him as surely as a spirit, even though he’d only met the guy twice. He recalled the shiver he’d experienced when he’d imagined Erik close to kissing him last night. Sad fact of the matter was, he’d never kissed anyone. Before the accident, there’d been several boys in high school he’d had a crush on, but none of them were gay. Then afterward, he’d never had the desire to be involved with anyone. As if any person in their right mind would want to deal with Nathan’s issues.

He tried to shove thoughts of his current situation out of his mind. He wanted a break from reality right now. Rolling to his side, he hugged the pillow to his chest and zoned in on a tiny speck on the wall across from the bed. After about twenty minutes, he gave up and tossed the blankets back. His head throbbed at the sudden movement, and he groaned but still forced himself into a sitting position. Sometimes a shower helped. He dragged himself out of bed and into the bathroom, then he turned on the water, undressing while it heated.

Stepping under the spray, he stood there, letting the jets beat against the base of his skull. The doctors hadn’t been able to identify where the migraines originated. At first, they’d worried the head trauma from the accident had caused them. There’d been multiple CAT scans and MRIs, but they’d always come out normal. His aunts had demanded pain medication, and the doctors had administered it while he’d been in the hospital. When they’d finally released him, they’d refused to provide a prescription, even with his aunts swearing to monitor his usage closely. Nathan supposed he couldn’t really blame the psychiatrist who’d made the call. If he hadn’t been the one seeing ghosts, he’d have thought he was nuts too.

The massaging of the water against his neck and shoulders helped relieve some of the tension. He tilted his head forward, allowing his chin to rest on his chest. He didn’t even attempt to wash his hair or body. A knock at the bathroom door caused him to jump. He’d almost forgotten he wasn’t in his apartment.

“Nate? You okay in there, honey?” Jessica’s voice came through the wood.

Nathan shut off the faucet and watched the liquid swirling down the drain, wishing he could go with it.

“Nate?”

“I’m okay, Aunt Jess,” Nathan called back.

“If you need anything, I’m right down the hall.”

“Okay.”

He heard Jessica’s footsteps as she walked away. He debated on turning on the water again but got out instead. Grabbing a towel, he dried off as best he could and put his same clothes back on, his shirt sticking to his still damp skin. At least the migraine had died to a dull roar instead of the high frequency scream shattering his skull.

Nathan returned to his room, turned off the lamp on the nightstand, and sat in a chair near the window. His aunts would never allow him to return to his apartment tonight, but he supposed that was a good thing since Alan would be waiting for him. The street outside was quiet, a car driving by every once in a while.

Nathan thought back on the first spirit he’d encountered after they’d released him from the hospital—an old woman who’d lived a few houses down. At first, he’d ignored her as he’d learned to do, not wanting to go back to the psych ward. Each day he’d see her wandering, calling for someone named Peter, and each day he’d walk past her as though she didn’t exist. Finally, a couple of weeks had gone by and he hadn’t been able to stop feeling sorry for her. She’d seemed so lonely and lost. It turned out Peter was her son, and she’d needed to tell him something, to make him understand her death wasn’t an accident. His wife had slowly poisoned her because she’d wanted the old lady’s money.

He’d told her he wished he could help her, but without proof, the son wouldn’t listen to him. The old lady had taken him to her house, which had still been up for sale, and told him to look in her room upstairs, underneath the bricks on the hearth of the fireplace. She’d pointed at the place she hid the key to her house and then disappeared.

Nathan had located the key, entered the house, and slowly taken the stairs to her room. There’d been the typical mothball scent in the home and apparently the son had wanted none of the furniture, for the place remained furnished. The item under the bricks had been a folder. The old lady had hired an investigator to investigate her new daughter-in-law when her son married. Multiple pictures of a blond lady in different wedding dresses with different men had fallen out and Nathan had picked them up, studying each one. The papers inside were reports from the detective and newspaper clippings of obituaries of several men.

Nathan remembered feeling sick knowing the woman in the photos had gotten away with murdering so many people. It had also made him feel even sadder for the old lady. It was the first time he’d really wanted to help a spirit. He’d located the woman’s son and presented the folder without saying a word. He could still picture the son’s face when the man had seen the contents of the file. Nathan had turned and walked away, letting the woman’s son do what he would with the folder.

After that day, he’d never seen the spirit again. Nathan had seen a story on the news a few days later where the blond lady’s image had shown up and the title Black Widow had appeared above her head. Vindication for the old woman had made him smile, causing his aunts to give him a look of puzzlement, but he hadn’t elaborated and just kept watching the television.

It no longer took time for Nathan to figure out if the people he saw were spirits or not. Even the ones who appeared corporeal in form had an aura around them that Nathan now recognized. The energy they gave off wasn’t a bright light, but more of a subtle tone that radiated outward. Sometimes the color of the aura changed depending on how the person died and who they were in real life.

White meant they were good people in life and had done a lot for those around them. Nathan hadn’t encountered many of those, as they usually moved on after they died, since they had nothing left unresolved. Blue were ones who held a lot of influential power and they used that to get things their own way. Black auras clung to those who’d committed suicide, ones with mental health issues when they were alive and couldn’t bear life anymore.

Nathan preferred dealing with either white or yellow, the color given off by normal people who’d been timid and unsure of themselves. Nathan steered as far away from the red ones as possible. They were people who’d been evil, committing crimes or even murders before they’d died. He’d learned that one the hard way.

Alan gave off a white light and Nathan knew the man had been a good person before he’d died. It didn’t make it any easier to deal with the situation. He wanted to help Alan, but he didn’t want to scare Erik away, either. The only problem was he didn’t see a way to accomplish both. He had to make a choice, and the unselfish choice would be to tell Erik about Alan. His stomach twisted in knots, and he dug his fingers into the armchair at how much the idea affected him. Damn, this was exactly why he didn’t want to become involved with anyone. They’d never understand his horrible gift.

“Why me?” he whispered into the darkness. “To punish me? Make me hurt even more than I already do for causing my parents’ deaths?”

No answer came forth, and Nathan squeezed his eyes shut, tilting his head back against the chair. He’d never be able to have a normal life, and he couldn’t subject another person to the awful future he foresaw for himself. “I’m sorry, Mom, Dad,” he said hoarsely, hoping they could hear him on the other side.