Haunted

Chapter 9:

Unknown

Her soft, plaintive sobs drifted to me from the other room. She was upset, and rightly so. I had behaved like a wild animal, lashing out in anger at what I didn't understand. React first, think later. That was usually how I went about everything.

Nonetheless, it wasn't like me to feel guilty over my actions. Usually I could justify what I did as being necessary. This time, however, I could not get the look of abject terror in her eyes out of my mind. Eyes that had locked with mine. I don't know how or why, but in that moment, she saw me—truly saw me. And if that weren't strange enough, she'd heard me as well.

How long had it been since I'd made eye contact with anyone? Certainly not since I'd died. And before that....

"Asheleign, for God's sake, let us leave this place!"

"I want you to promise me," I said softly, pointedly ignoring the dull, throbbing pain from where the bullet had ripped into my side, as well as the boy's passionate pleas. I placed my ring in the palm of her hand and gently pushed her fingers closed around it. "Promise me...you'll come back when...you receive word of my death...and bury my body. With this...Do you promise...Asheleign?"

She slowly lifted her gaze, her beautiful cornflower blue eyes boring into mine. "Yes, Ingvar. I promise."

I squeezed her hand and nodded, too overcome with emotion to say anything more.

This time when the warrior tugged at her sleeve, she went with him willingly. Clutching my ring to her breast, she cast a glance my way one last time, and then left without another word. I watched her go, and as darkness closed around me, I hoped that she'd be happy.

I closed my eyes and shook my head, chasing the image of her from my head.

There had to be a reason why, after all these years, I was able to interact with someone on that level. And right now, there was only one way to find out.

—•—•—•—•  ~~  •—•—•—•—

I woke up in a pissy mood. Not even the golden rays of sunlight streaming through my bedroom window, glittering with the promise of a warm, gorgeous Saturday could pull me out of my funk.

For the longest time I just laid there, staring up at the ceiling.

How could I come up with enough cash to get my ass to the Appalachians right now rather than later? What were my options?

I could get a part-time job. Maybe the home improvement store I frequented all the time was hiring. It couldn't hurt to swing by and put in an application. I frowned. But working there might burn me out on my kitchen project, and I really needed to be home to focus on that anyway. I couldn't live off frozen TV dinners and cereal forever.

What else, then? A loan, maybe?

Hey.... That wasn't a bad idea. I was in desperate need of something to rebuild my credit, since it had gone to hell in a hand basket after my divorce. Making monthly house payments wasn't doing anything, since I technically didn't own the house yet, and my car had been paid off for years. Yeah...a loan. I liked the sound of that.

The credit union I banked with was open until two o'clock on Saturdays. If I quit feeling sorry for myself and hurried over there, there was a chance that I could have that money in my pocket and a trip scheduled within a few days.

An hour and a half later I pulled into the parking lot of the Second Street Credit Union. I gathered all the paperwork I thought I might need from the passenger seat and headed inside.