Dark and Devious Things (Dark Things Book 2) by Kelly Martin

Author:Kelly Martin [Martin, Kelly]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: ghost, ghosthunter, paranormal
Publisher: Kelly Martin
Published: 2017-02-17T18:30:00+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

I DON’T KNOW HOW LONG HE holds me. It seems like forever. I stop crying way before I let him go, but I don’t want him to know that. I want to stay here forever, in his arms. It feels safe here, like nothing is going to hurt me. It feels warm and safe.

Love pops into my mind, and I shoo it away. It isn’t loving. He doesn’t love me. It’s compassion. He feels compassion for me, and that’s not a bad thing.

I hold him, knowing that this won’t happen again. I have to be okay with it, doesn’t mean I don’t hold on a little tighter or a little longer.

He’s the first one to lean back. When I feel his grip on me ease, I do the same. Don’t want him thinking I’m a clingy sort. He clears his throat and, to my surprise, pushes away the little tendrils of hair I have sticking to my face and behind my ear. The pieces that will go anyway. This is a terrible time to have bangs. I smile at him sheepishly. Something happened between us. Something I can’t explain, and something I refuse to ask him about. But no matter if we talk about it or not, we are different. Whether it’s a closer friendship bond or… something more… we have a connection. Now we have to figure out how to deal with it.

Abel gets up and gets my bag from the foyer where he dropped it when I bear-hug tackled him. To be fair, I thought he had died and he hadn’t. That’s the only reason I hugged him like that… the only reason.

I'm not telling him about seeing him dead, though. Not now. I don't think I can find the words. I don't think my heart can take it.

While he’s on his little endeavor, I stand and stretch my back a little. We’ve been here all of an hour, and I’m already bloody and stiff. This proves to be an eventful weekend.

He comes back in with my bag. “Do you have any other shirts?”

And I’m back to remembering that I’m standing here in only my bra. I swear, for the briefest of moments, Abel’s eyes travel down the side of my body. Could just be my imagination, though. Or wishful thinking.

I turn toward him and nod. “Yeah, I have a few I think.” He hands me my bag and, like a gentleman, turns his back.

I snort. Like actually snort. A snort comes out of my nose, causing him to turn around and stare. “What’s so funny?”

“You turned around.”

“You’re changing clothes.”

“You hugged me.”

“You were crying.”

“I was just as clothed then.”

“That was then, and now you’re getting dressed and that seems a little bit… indecent to watch.”

Abel Hale, born in the nineteen fifties.

“It ain’t like you haven’t seen them before.” I laugh. “And I’m not changing bras. Just shirts.”

“Uh…” He holds up a finger. I flashback to the woman in black holding up one finger when Abel was on the floor, and I shake my head to get that image out.

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