Chapter Fourteen #4
She laughed.
“I’d go shit nuts on the tribal council, make them cry, and then burn the place down around me as I got my giddy on from making grown men weep. Then, I’d tell them to fuck all the way off, but that’s just me. I’m subtle like that.”
He laughed.
Yeah, if subtle was a nuke.
“That’s a very Elizabeth way of handling things, and it works for you. For me, not so much. People expect different reactions from us, unfortunately. If I lose it, there’s no going back. You losing your shit is part of the show, and entertaining. When I lose it, it’s more terrifyingly dark.”
Yeah, she knew what he was saying, and it was accurate.
“What do you want to do?” she asked.
He considered it.
“I want to do both. I was enjoying both, and I felt…home. Before this case, I felt like for the first time, I was accepted in both worlds. Clearly, that’s not the case. So, here we are. Both of us are two people without a country, so to speak. Homeless.”
She pointed one thing out.
“For two homeless people, we certainly have way too many homes. I can’t turn around without walking into a home.”
That they did.
Thanks, Callen and Chris.
“Surely, we can do something,” she offered.
“I figure that I’ll give them time to calm down, bury Rayna and Lance, and then see what I can work out. If I’m not there, they can’t ask for an answer. Thus, me running again.”
She touched his cheek, and when he looked into her eyes, she shared how she felt about it.
“If you have to choose, choose what makes you happiest. Not what you think we want you to choose. Don’t let what happened between us make you change your path.”
Yeah, only, he did that once.
“I did that before, Lyzee, my love, and it forced you to stay in Damascus. That didn’t end well. It nearly cost me you, and that’s not a price I’m ever willing to pay.”
Yeah, but she wasn’t upset at him.
That wasn’t how she felt.
“I can hate Damascus and still be madly in love with you, EJ. I can hate being out there, but still love being who I am. Take me out of the equation. Go from there. We’ve always made it work, and we always will. One day, I want to be in a tote bin rattling around with your bones.”
That amused him.
“We’re being cremated. We’ll have to be ash-to-ash.”
She snorted, and he gave her a kiss.
“Thank you for letting me talk it out. I appreciate it,” he admitted.
A.
LOT.
There was nothing better than having a spouse who let them work through shit without judgment.
Honestly, Elizabeth didn’t mind being there for them. This was a weight she couldn’t carry. What happened had to be Ethan’s choice.
Not.
Hers.
“Now, though, we need to work on this mess here, and then, maybe later, we can regroup. I don’t mind you leaning on me when you need help.”
He could see that.
There was a difference between leaning and dumping, and he was going to make sure he did the former and avoided the latter. His spouses shouldn’t have to carry his mess or clean it up.
But they could walk with him.
They were both learning that.
Getting up, she held out her hand.
“Right now, Michael is wondering if I’m melting down, Gabby is eating my food, and Graham is trying to get me more dogs. One of those things is not like the other…”
He laughed.
“Then, we’d better get our asses over there. FAST.”
Heading out of the library, they walked toward the kitchen, and once there, they found the three people eating in silence. It was the kind of silence that said, ‘I feel helpless’.
Welcome to her world.
“You guys can chill out. I’m not melting down,” she admitted. “We’re good. There’s no mental health crisis happening. I travel with a pocket therapist,” she joked.
Gabby sighed.
“Thank God, but now I feel bad for eating your bacon. If it’s any consolation, it was terrible. Terrible, terrible bacon.”
Ethan just laughed.
It appeared that his wife had nailed that.
On.
The.
Head.
Apparently, she might not be at work, but she could still read a room.
Elizabeth pointed at her.
“You’re just lucky I like you, or eating my bacon is an ass-kicking offense!”
She laughed.
Yeah, that was her friend. She was in there, and she was doing okay. That was clear.
“My bad?” Gabby asked. “I left your waffle alone though. That should count.”
Elizabeth just shook her head.
From where he sat, Michael was curious. They had their answer from the psychic, but he wasn’t sure if that was still at the top of their list.
They also got a name.
CATHAL.
“What’s the plan for today?” Michael asked. “Are we grave robbing, or are we hunting down that name? Better yet, we can always skip this crazy and start playing with goats. Asking for a friend.”
She knew why he was saying that.
He was worried about her.
So, she chilled out, so the people she loved wouldn’t think she was going off the deep end.
Well, more than usual.
“I mean, we can bring the goats with us as we rob the grave, so to speak, and see what happens. Then, we can research the name.”
Graham shook his head.
“You really want to test out that fainting, huh, Lass?” he asked. “Because herding goats is a lot. They don’t do what you want—ever.”
Oh, she loved that part best.
Chaos?
It was her middle name.
What kind of person wouldn’t want to see little bitty goats going shit nuts all over the place?
That would be the funniest thing she’d seen in a while. When they were startled, they dropped one at a time, each one that fainted, scaring another, so it was like dominoes around the barn stall.
It was damn cute.
Imagine that on a trail.
“Pretty much,” she said. “Anyway, I think the best situation is to get the grave open. You heard the psychic, Oison stole her heart, and I’m betting Ceit meant the necklace. If it’s not in there, we have other issues.”
In the kitchen, the lights flickered again.
When they all went to say ‘rats’, she stopped them.
“I’m not an idiot,” she said, laughing. “I know it’s not rats. It’s the damn ghosts.”
There was laughter from somewhere, and she knew one thing. None of them had laughed.
Oh, boy.
This place needed a de-infestation of spooks, ASAP. There was no way she could let Gabe come here to be haunted. He’d bust her ass for the rest of her life.
Since they had manual labor to do, Michael got up, and kicked back his new cup of coffee.
Then, he shared the plan.
“I’ll get the shovels. It looks we’re digging the old dead dude back up again.”
Why did he sound like an absolute lunatic saying that to them?
Because he was.
“Everyone be ready for that nasty spirit to be up our asses when we manhandle his bones, and that’s not nearly as kinky or fun as it sounds.”
Ethan lifted a brow.
“Wait. You think Oison will be set free and start haunting the castle again?”
Oh, he didn’t think it.
In this castle?
HE KNEW IT.
That was their luck.