Criss Cross (PsyCop #2) by Jordan Castillo Price

Author:Jordan Castillo Price [Price, Jordan Castillo]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Paranormal Romance, Gay & Lesbian
Publisher: JCP Books

Chapter 8

The swarms of ghosts seemed thinner when we left Crash’s shop, and though none of them came running at me, there were still a lot more of them roaming around than I was accustomed to. Jacob, Carolyn and I walked five blocks to the car in silence.

The ride home was pretty quiet too, until Carolyn spoke with a suddenness that made me jump. “Crash was Jacob’s last boyfriend.”

Well. The animosity between them made sense. I wasn’t jealous, exactly, but the thought of Jacob in bed with someone younger, wilder, and much more self-assured than me didn’t do much for my mood. I closed my eyes and sighed.

Jacob didn’t say anything.

“They were together for quite a while, six months or so.”

“Seven,” Jacob muttered.

“That’s a long time for Crash.”

It’s a long time for me, too. Once the truth had been stuffed into the car with us like a big, reeking sack of garbage, Carolyn stopped talking. I wondered how she could deal with so much truth without taking out her service weapon and swallowing a bullet.

We pulled up in front of the apartment and I made a break for the courtyard gate with my chicken calzone and my bag of rocks. Jacob’s quicker than I am, and he was right on my heels. “Carolyn shouldn’t have to be the one to tell you what’s going on—it should be me. It just never seemed like the right time to go into all of that.”

I clutched the bags to my middle and knocked my gate open. The hinges were rusty, and it never rewarded me with a satisfying bang no matter how hard I shoved it. A young black woman materialized to my right, with long blonde hair that was obviously a wig. She wore a pair of short shorts that let her ass cheeks hang out and a lavender tube top. A knife handle protruded from the center of the tube top, right between her breasts, with dark blood seeping out in a big, black circle around it.

“Hey, white boy. You want a date?”

“Jesus,” I said, and walked faster. “Go away.”

Jacob, who didn’t see Jackie, the World’s Most Irritating Dead Prostitute, thought I was annoyed with him. Come to think of it, I’d never seen her before, either. I usually just heard her. I tried to look on the bright side; at least now I knew where she was.

The three of us were almost at the vestibule door when I spun around to talk to Jacob. I held my bags out between me and Jackie, and she stared at them, puzzled.

“Jacob, whatever. We’ve obviously both seen other people. Fine.”

He stopped close to me and stared into my eyes. “It doesn’t feel fine right now. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t you be wavin’ no bags at me. All I was ax-in’ was did you want a little company, and here you go wavin’ that shit in my face….”

I turned toward Jackie. I was fairly sure she couldn’t care less about the calzone, but Crash’s bag was another story.

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