Chapter 18 #2
“No. I remember the whole shitty morning unfortunately.” Julian huffed and then winced again.
“He’s in me. That’s what you’re saying? God damn it.
I didn’t believe in any of this horseshit.
Ghosts and wolves and monsters.” He gestured toward Abraham, who’d come back with a case of liquor. “No offense.”
“None taken.” Abraham set the case on the counter. Obviously, Julian had either been told about Abraham’s otherness or he’d experienced it firsthand. “So what are we talking about?” he asked.
I told him my theory. That Nigel’s spirit might possibly be alive and well inside Julian’s body. I tried not to get too specific about things because mob guy looked ready to barf as it was. Abraham however, didn’t seem surprised.
“That tracks.” He shrugged and started stocking the bar. “The necromancer knew he was dying. He didn’t want to use anyone else’s body, but Julian needed some supernatural mojo to survive. So he must have tapped Nigel for the job.”
Julian grumbled under his breath. At my look, he muttered, “He keeps squealing about Abraham like a teenage girl. Says he’s a big six and so handsome. Jesus, this is going to be annoying.”
I grinned, glancing over at Abraham’s muscular arms as he worked. “Nigel’s been around for a while. Big six must be old-fashioned slang for built.” I shrugged. “He’s got a point.”
Abraham looked over, as if sensing we were talking about him. “Hunter, you working today or talking?”
“Yeah, Boss. Just give us a minute. And can I fire up the grill? I could eat. Him too.” I jerked a thumb at the mobster.
“Sure. But tonight’s karaoke night. I’ll need you to set up the machine.” He headed to the back room again.
Julian blew out a tired breath of air. “A couple of months ago, none of this shit was real. It was all in Ramon’s head. A fantasy. And I was good with that.” He stopped, lost in thought. I got it. I had shit of my own to process.
I’d always been on the weird side of things.
Seeing minutes into the future is not an everyday thing for most folks, but I’d learned to keep my ability under wraps from a young age.
Still, I knew I was different. Coming to work at the bar and discovering an entire population of arcane beings and humans with specialties had made me feel accepted for the first time in a long time.
Julian had learned all this in the past ten days. It was a lot to take in.
“Am I stuck with this ghost? Forever?” His hardened don’t-fuck-with-me expression suddenly looked young and vulnerable.
“I don’t know. Maybe after tonight, we can ask the gatekeeper.
But for now, be glad you’re still awake and talking.
It was Nigel making you sad that Anu died.
They were close for a long time.” I put my hand out but didn’t touch him.
“Before you freak out. This differs from Anu being in my head. I don’t remember anything.
I blacked out, but you’re not doing that.
If Nigel is with you—and that’s a big if—he’s pretty benign.
I can’t imagine him making you do something you don’t want to do.
In fact, he may have been the one to help heal your wounds. ”
“I don’t freakin’ want him. I mean, who would want—”
“I get that. I do. We can work on that.” I sighed. It felt kind of good to work on someone else’s problems. “I’m going to cook us some burgers. You want cheese on yours?”
In spite of his obvious anger over his situation, Julian’s face transformed from vicious mobster to ruggedly attractive as he smiled. “Sounds great.”
I headed for the kitchen and did some basic food prep while our burgers sizzled on the grill.
I wanted to call Regge, but I didn’t. Why should I be the one to reach out?
I’d been reaching out to Regge for months, and the guy had shoved me firmly in the friend zone.
Now I wasn’t sure we were even that. My stomach rumbled.
Feeling empty inside, I knew a meal would help, but it wouldn’t fix everything.
I served Julian a plate with a cheeseburger and fries.
Medium cooked to the proper temp (I used a meat thermometer like Abraham taught me), with lettuce, tomato, and no pickle.
The fries were steak fries and perfectly deep fried.
I was not a line cook by any means, but I did okay at this.
Eating my burger in stages, I did my setup chores—refilling bar supplies, doing setups for the booths, getting chairs off the tables.
I settled across from Julian and ate the last bite of burger.
“So aside from the Nigel thing, what are you going to do?”
Julian dragged a fry through a blob of ketchup. “I don’t know. Everything I have is in the cartel’s name. My car is leased through them, the apartment, everything. Enforcers are probably on their way.”
“Enforcers?”
“The old man is dead, but there’s still a hierarchy. They will send people to get explanations. If they don’t like those explanations, they’ll exact justice. I don’t want to take that chance.”
“You’re kinda fucked, dude.” My mouth twitched.
Julian glared. “I wasn’t aware.”
I almost felt sorry for the guy. He looked a bit like I felt. Beat up and worn down. Julian sat back and rubbed his belly in satisfaction.
“I was done with the cartel. Was getting out, which is hard to do if you want to stay alive. This was a hell of a way to go about it.”
Abraham had slid onto the seat next to me. “I’d say you’re pretty much out now.”
Julian nodded. “I’m pretty much dead now. I saved enough to form a legit LLC and bought the hotel, but that’s a bust.”
“Wait. You’re Westridge Unlimited?” I asked.
Julian nodded. “Eskridge, Westridge. Yeah, that’s my LLC. I needed a nest egg. The hotel was a decent price and low end enough to stay under the radar. Doesn’t matter now. I can’t stay in town.”
“Cobb will figure something out with the feds. We should hear from him sometime today.” Abraham’s voice was reassuring.
I soaked in the conversation. “Maybe we can make a deal. All we need is a couple of signatures from you, and we can get some renovations done. The city won’t condemn it.”
Julian shook his head. “Not if the guys from Jersey open my safe. They’ll find the deed there. And—”
“They’ll come have a look around, seize the property for themselves,” I finished for him. “Yeah, that’s kind of a problem. You gonna eat those fries?”
?±?
This was great news. Well, not so much for the Mafia dude, but we could get the renovations going and the hotel open.
I’d get my place back. The first person I wanted to tell, of course, was Regge.
But I wasn’t ready to open that door. What I needed was time away, far away.
From all the ghosts and hotels and body switching and thoughts of a six-foot, green-eyed man with an accent.
I pressed number three in my contact list.
“Okay, what’s wrong?” Marjorie Hunter had a voice like a fifty-year smoker, though she’d never touched tobacco. My shoulders immediately relaxed at the sound.
“No, Ma. Everything’s fine. I just haven’t talked to you in a while.”
“Right. Since when do you call me this early?”
“Can’t a son call his mother for no reason?”
“Don’t you lie to me, Elliot Bruce Hunter, I know every tone you have, and this is your I-need-help tone.”
I sighed. “Wow, Ma, full naming me already? That’s harsh. I… Well, okay, yeah, so there was this incident and some people, er, friends needed a place to stay so I kind of gave up my place at Izzy’s for a while.”
“Oh, you are such a good boy, such a good-hearted boy. A little stupid, giving up your place for people you barely know. But still, it was a kind thing to do. Are you staying at Izzy’s then? Tell her I said hi.”
“No. Actually, Izzy and Theo are in New York. But her house is full too. There were a lot of people in need of a place.”
“So where are you staying?”
“Abraham offered.” I hedged.
“What about the nice English boy you like?”
“Regge’s place is not an option.”
“Oh no. What did you do, Bruce?”
“What did I do? I didn’t do… Jeez, what makes you say that? I just can’t stay there, okay? We kinda had a fight.” I gritted my teeth. I knew I shouldn’t have called my mom.
“I’m sorry, dear. Really, but these things happen. People quarrel, and they apologize and make up. You should make the first effort. He likes you. Anyone can see that.”
“I’m not so sure.” I stopped pacing in front of the main entrance.
Part of me wanted to tell her everything.
From the camping trip to now. But one, I was thirty-one years old and there were simply things my mother did not need to know.
And two, she knew of my ability, which she called intuition, but I kept her out of the supernatural events and beings in my life.
“He dotes on you. But that boy has had a hard past. I could tell the moment I laid eyes on him. He’s smart and charming, but he probably doesn’t trust easily.”
“Maybe that’s the problem.”
“Maybe?” She scoffed. “I’d say most likely. Underneath that charm there’s pain, so whatever he did, take that into account.”
“Yes. You’re right. But I just need some space. Can I come visit for a couple of days?”
“Of course, son. You can come anytime. Mind you, Thursday is poker night, so bring cash.”
“Thanks, Ma. I love you.”
“I love you too, honey.”
I hung up, feeling like I had a plan now. A few days in Brooklyn in the old neighborhood and then I could come back. Then I’d be composed enough to talk to Regge. To try to understand why he was so… secretive and withdrawn and… God, he was such an asshole.