Page 53 of Dead Vengeance

Fabian pushes his chair back, standing again. “I’d like to leave. Um. Go look into the history of the place. I might go to a local library, or council, or um, something.”

“But that’s not what we’re here for,” Liam sighs out in sheer frustration. “Mr Gravely is fine with his ghosts. We’re here to fix the thing in the attic. You need to forget all about the ghosts for now.”

“But…” Fabian throws frantic eyes on the closed front door. “But we should try to research! It’s a basic part of a ghost hunt!”

“But we’re not on a ghost hunt!” Liam yells back. “And how do you even know that, anyway?”

“Everybody knows that!” Fabian snaps. “You know, I came onto this ghost team because I thought we’d be doing ghosts!”

“Doing ghosts?” Liam repeats.

“Yes!” Fabian cries. “Doing ghosts-ghost-ghost stuff. Ghost stuff. I…” He flings an arm towards the stairs. “I didn’t sign up for anything else. Creepy evil things in the attic with illusions and whatever you said.” He slams a hand down on the table. “And I’ll tell you what, I don’t like the way you’re running things!”

“I’m not the one running things!” Liam fires back.

“I don’t like the way you’re doing any of it!”

“I’m just trying to stop you dying!”

“And isn’t that really up to me?”

“What?” Liam shouts the word.

Fabian, clearly, is not bothered by his reaction. Smoothly, with finality, he swishes his hair back and announces, “I quit. I’m leaving this property, and there isn’t a thing you can do to stop me!”

“I’m not trying to stop you leaving!” Liam shouts. “I’m just trying to—”

“Well, that’s good then, because you can’t!” And with that, Fabian turns on his heel and stomps out of the house, slamming the door behind him, leaving Liam and me staring, mouths agape.

We watch out the front windows as Fabian strides down the drive, disappearing from our view when he steps into the laneway.

And we keep watching for several seconds more, during which time I imagine Liam’s as lost for words as I am.

When he does finally speak, he explodes with, “Am I actually that unemployable? This? This is what I’m up against? This is the level of employability I find myself at that these are the people I’m competing for jobs with?”

“I don’t think you should take him as any reflection on your skill set,” I try to assure him.

“I just… I would…” He groans out an exasperated breath. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t want things to be bizarre again today. And they paired me with that guy, and I’ve never seen him before—”

“Liam—”

“And I don’t know how they hire people. Why anyone thought that was a good idea!”

“Liam—”

“But I can do this, okay?” His eyes meet mine, a clear display of the worry I hadn’t realised until just now was behind the outburst. “I can do this without help. I’m perfectly, perfectly capable of—”

“Liam…” I reach out, touch his forearm in as normal and non-romantic a manner as a man can when comforting another man who is insanely hot. “You’re doing great. I’m glad you’re here. I’m honestly glad it’s… just us.”

He falls quiet, and his gaze slips to my hand on his arm, so I pull it back and use it to push the plate towards him instead. “Eat. Let’s reset and have a normal day, okay?”

“Normal,” he laughs out. But then he finally sinks his fingers into a friand, tearing off a nice chunk. He chews it, and I try not to stare, try not to preen when he lets out a soft moan of enjoyment.

“Good?”

“Very good,” he confirms, a touch of pink in his cheeks. “I feel bad; you went to all this effort, and he—”

“I didn’t do it for him,” I reply, maybe a touch too directly.