AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He stiffened beside me. “What do you mean, talk?”
“Just… about when I came home and—” I began, but he cut me off by standing up abruptly.
“This again?” He rolled his eyes and shook his head. “You’re always so serious, Marnie. I don’t want to talk, okay? Can’t we just enjoy the moment?”
Well, there went my night. Any hope of salvaging the evening disappeared in a puff of smoke, and angry, indignant tears pricked at my eyes. I sucked them back, knowing if I started crying, the conversation was going to tank even more than it already had.
“I do want a nice night with you,” I began. “I want to be chill, but all of this—” I waved at him and the mess of new electronics. “Didn’t help, okay? And then I went online and researched the house and sorta creeped myself out, and I just want my boyfriend to be my boyfriend. I want us to be safe and secure and…”
He snorted, but before he could retort, I started speaking again. I stood up to face him, my voice firm. I was tired of pleading. “I’m trying to save this relationship, Beck. I don’t want us to end up hating each other because we can’t communicate or share the responsibilities. But if you can’t even have this conversation seriously, I don’t know how we can make it work.”
Beck didn’t respond. He simply set down his beer and snatched a discarded flannel from the arm of the couch, leaving me standing there, feeling more alone than ever. It was becoming clear that if our relationship had any chance of surviving, it was up to me to carry the weight of our future on my shoulders.
“I’m going out,” he said. “I can’t believe you give me a hard time after I bought stuff for us, and then you’re a bitch after work, and you come down here and pout about the house you wanted.”
I clenched my fists so hard I felt the bite of my nails even through the fabric. “You aren’t listening! I’m trying to tell you that we either stay here and do this together, or we are done. I am willing to live in a grave for you, and all you want to do is leech off of me and spend money I don’t have.”
“You picked the grave, Marn. You deal with it,” he said bitterly, then strolled out the front door. He didn’t even bother slamming it behind him. He simply let it remain open like an empty black hole. The same black hole that felt like it was in my chest, spidering out throughout my body and sucking away any effort or energy I had left. I finally let the tears fall as I shut the door behind him. There was no response except for the sound of tires on gravel speeding away.
“Fuck,” I said, shaking my head. I was furious with him, with myself. And god, I was tired. Tired and just so… bone-deep miserable. I trudged back up the stairs and flopped onto the bed. I didn’t even have the energy to pull the covers up around me. I just wanted to sleep and feel sorry for myself.
“Sometimes, things would just be so much easier if I were dead,” I said morosely. “I just wish… I wish this all would end.”
And with that comforting thought, I drifted off to sleep.
6
GABRIEL
If there was one thing I hated, it was to see a woman cry. And here this perfect angel was… sobbing herself to sleep over that scumbag. I’d popped up from Hell to see the tail end of their fight, and it didn’t take a genius to put the pieces together. She wanted him to contribute, and he wanted to mooch.
Typical. I’d known men like that my whole life. Hell, I was raised by one.
Which reminded me about Marnie’s other point in the conversation. She’d looked up things about the house. She’d said she was creeped out and scared. She wanted a man to comfort her, to keep her safe, to tell her everything was going to be okay. All the woman wanted was a hug and someone to keep the lights on and the roof over her head. The bar was so low.
Well, actually, the bar was pretty damned high when you’re dead. It wasn’t like I had a snowball’s chance in, well… Hell. Dead guys aren’t exactly considered eligible bachelors.
I couldn’t keep her safe, happy, or held.
But there was one thing I could do.
I wasn’t a killer, despite what happened in this house. There were things the world didn’t know about what happened here, things I wished I could tell Marnie. She didn’t know me. She didn’t even know I was still hanging around, but I wished she knew who I really was. I was not a killer.
But some people deserve what’s coming to ‘em. I won’t argue with that. I hadn’t really been on board with Lysandra’s plan until now, but it seemed I had just the living soul to offer her. Maybe she was right. Maybe every boy had a bit of vigilante in him.
This Beck asshole was going to pay.
My whole life, my whole eternity, was built around the sins of lesser men. Why stop now?
I stared around the bedroom. It seemed sad and drab, and most of the boxes were still unpacked. I’d only seen Marnie work and try to do basic functions to keep her life in order. She barely had time to decorate or organize their belongings between her shifts, showering, and eating. And fighting with the ungrateful waste of space downstairs. I’d watched her at the diner, how hard she had to work to scrounge anything from each table…. I saw how men leered at her all day or old ladies sniveled at her and complained. I saw in her eyes the same thing I used to feel. This town was an anchor, holding her here in her unhappiness. She was worth so much more. I could free her. I could give her that gift, even if I couldn’t give her much else.
I just had to work fast.
Most of the time, I just interceded before a reaper could come. I’d show up to the scene of a car accident, or somethin’ like that, and the poor stiff would be just sorta standing there and starin’ down at its own body. Souls are kind of confused at first, so they don’t put up much fuss when you take their hand. They are more than happy to let you lead the way. A living soul, however, would need to be forcibly taken. I’d have to rip it, body and soul, down beneath with me. It wasn’t going to be pretty.
I needed to catch the bastard unaware. I needed to play it just right.
Marnie’s cries grew quieter and quieter until she was well and truly asleep. I approached the bed as she slept, staring down at the soft curve of her pale cheek. Her purple hair had slipped from her clip, and it fell and spiraled over the pillow in shades of lavender and violet. One creamy white shoulder had slipped free from her loose t-shirt. That same burn and ache I’d felt before hit my chest again. If I still breathed, it would have taken the air out of my lungs.
