Chapter Fifteen

Satisfied, Kirstin settled back into her chair and vanished from view. Richie sat there, mouth agape, staring at the chair. “Holy shit,” he breathed, sitting back in his seat. After a few minutes, he asked, “Is she really gone?”

“Yes,” Angel Rose answered in a tiny voice. Richie looked over at her, and was dismayed to find her swaying on her feet. He jumped up to steady her, and helped lower her into the rocking chair.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay? What happened?”

Ang held up a hand briefly to stop his questions. “It’s alright,” she said. “It’s just been a while since I let them in, and I’d forgotten what a toll they can take.” She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. “I just need to go home and get some sleep. I’ll be okay.” She stood and immediately started to fall. Richie again caught her in his arms.

“You can’t be driving when you can’t even stand; let me drive you home. We can sort out your car in the morning.” When Ang just nodded weakly, he helped her downstairs, and sat her in one of the window seats while he stuffed his pillow into his duffel bag and scooped it up.

“What’re you doing?” Ang asked as she slumped against the side of the seat.

“I’m a little freaked out at the moment,” he answered honestly. “Is there anyplace in town I can stay after I drop you off?” Richie asked. He kept glancing back at the stairs, apprehensive a about spending the night.

Ang checked her watch. “Not without waking someone up or heading out of town,” she said. Richie checked his own watch and saw it was pushing ten o’clock. “The B and B’s are pretty much full or asleep for the night.”

“Holy cow, how’d it get so late without my noticing it?” He could have sworn it was dinner time, but nearly four hours had passed. He’d missed dinner, and wasn’t even hungry.

“That’s just how it works,” she said, shrugging. “You lose all track of time.”

Richie looked at her, nodding in agreement, though he had no idea why. “OK then, after I take you home, I’m going to sleep in the truck tonight while I wrap my head around this whole thing.” He helped her up and supported her weight as they made their way to his truck. He dropped his bag on the ground and helped Ang up into her seat. She leaned her head back against the headrest and closed her eyes. Richie tossed his stuff in the backseat and slid in behind the wheel.

She gave him directions to her place, and soon he was pulling into the little driveway in front of her cottage. “Cute place,” Richie said.

“It is,” Ang agreed. The short drive with the windows open had perked her up somewhat, but she was still bone tired. She poured out of her seat and braced herself on the door handle. Richie chuckled and went around to her side of the truck. He led her up the few stairs and waited while she unlocked and pushed open the door.

“Are you going to be alright?” Richie asked.

Ang nodded. “Yeah, I just need to sleep. Thanks for taking me home.”

“Of course. Well, good night.”

Richie started to back out of the door when Ang stopped him.

“Look, if you don’t want to sleep in your truck or drive all over the place to find somewhere to stay, you’re more than welcome to crash here.” Richie just looked at her. “What’s the problem?” she asked. “We’re both adults, and I think I can trust you, right?” Richie nodded. “Then there isn’t any problem. Go get your bag.”

By the time Richie returned, Ang had pillows and a blanket stacked on the foot of a short sofa.

“You can take your bag into the bedroom,” she said. Richie just winged an eyebrow. Blushing, Ang said, “Look, you’re much bigger than I am, and you won’t fit on the couch.” He started to object, but Ang put up a hand. “I’m gonna be asleep in about 40 seconds,” she said, yawning widely to emphasize her point. “I won’t even notice. End of discussion. There’s some food in the fridge if you’re hungry; please help yourself.”

“But – ” Richie protested.

Ang just gave him a look. “I promise you, I will be fine. Please,” she said, yawning widely. “Have something to eat, and get some sleep. There’s a television in the armoire if you’re not sleepy yet. I’ll see you in the morning.” With that, she took a blanket and pillow from the closet and tossed them on the couch. She disappeared into the bathroom where Richie heard the rustling of clothes and the run of water as she brushed her teeth and changed for bed.

He smiled when she came back into her room wearing a long t-shirt over light yoga pants and heavy socks. She smiled sheepishly as she fluffed up her pillow and sat on the end of the sofa. “My feet are always cold,” she said. “There’s extra pillows in the hall closet, and clean towels in the bathroom,” she said, shaking out the light blanket and effectively dismissing him.

“Good night, Angel Rose,” Richie said, and backed into her bedroom, closing the door as Ang settled in on the couch.

Ang sighed when she heard the bedroom door snick closed, and she relaxed into the cushions. She wasn’t kidding when she’d said she’d be out like a light in a matter of seconds. After these encounters, she always slept; it allowed her brain to unwind. She stuffed her arm under the pillow behind her head, pulled the light blanket up to her ears, and fell asleep.

Richie changed into jogging shorts and a tank top, and opened the door. He smiled when he saw Ang all but passed out on the couch and continued into the kitchen. He fixed a thick sandwich, grabbed a Coke, and went back into Ang’s bedroom. He set the plate down on the nightstand and crossed the small room to open the armoire. He snagged the remote from the top of the TV and sat on the edge of the bed to pop the top of his soda. He flipped through the channels until he found a baseball game and reached back to grab his dinner.

As he chewed through his hearty meatloaf sandwich, he thought back to the encounter with Kirstin. He was amazed at everything that had transpired, and knew he had to help the poor woman. Ghost. Whatever. No woman deserved to be beaten like she was, he didn’t care when it happened.

And Angel Rose. She called her gift a “curse” but he thought it was just incredible. She had the ability to interact with the spirit world. He tried to imagine what it would be like to be that in tune to the cosmos around him. He thought it would be phenomenal to be able to talk to his ancestors, for example, to find out what their lives were like. Or to have a conversation with some of the great men and women of history. He frowned, thinking more on that. What if he couldn’t choose who came to talk to him? What if there was so much noise in his head, it drowned out his own thoughts? He shuddered. That must be what Angel Rose means by curse.

Whatever it’s called, for the moment it was fascinating and new and a little bit scary, and he wanted to experience it again. “Not going to be tonight,” he said to himself as he polished off his sandwich. He brought his plate and empty can back out to the kitchen and placed them in the sink. He stopped to watch Angel Rose sleep for a minute, wondering if she was dreaming of Kirstin.

He grabbed the extra pillows from the closet before closing himself into Angel Rose’s room and climbed into her bed. He was a sprawler, and probably would use up the whole bed. He shucked his shirt and lay in the cool sheets, Ang’s scent teasing him. It was fresh and clean, and nothing like the death and decay he had smelled at his house. “Olfactory Hallucination” is what Ang called it. He didn’t care. It was creepy, and this was much preferred. He was mulling things over in his head, trying to grasp the enormity of what had transpired earlier that evening. Eventually, though, his brain gave up the ghost, so to speak, and he drifted off to a dreamless sleep.

In the middle of the night, Ang partially awoke, needing to go to the bathroom. She stumbled into the bathroom without turning on a light and did her business, already on the way to being asleep again. Barely conscious, she went into her bedroom and climbed into bed, totally unaware of the other person sleeping there. A short time later, Ang was dreaming that she was suffocating. She was being buried alive. The air was heavy in her lungs, and she couldn’t breathe. She clawed at the dirt, but it didn’t help. A faceless man hovered over her, his hands reaching for her throat as he threw his shovel aside. With a strangled scream, she wriggled with all her might and sat upright. She looked around the room, frightened, and completely disoriented.

The scream and motion woke Richie, who bolted out of bed. “What the hell?” he asked, and fumbled for a lamp. “Angel Rose? What are you doing in here? “

Ang blinked and looked around again, her eyes still unfocused. “Am I ok?” she asked in a small voice.

Richie nodded slowly. “Yes, darlin’, you’re perfectly safe, but...”

Ang was already sinking down into the bed again, her eyes closing. Staring at her, Richie watched as she drifted off to sleep. She probably wouldn’t even remember this in the morning, but now what the hell was he supposed to do? Ang sighed and turned away from him, apparently deeply asleep. He shrugged remembering her “we’re both adults” statement earlier, and got back in on the other side of the bed, careful not to touch her. He rolled away from her, closed his eyes, and tried to go back to sleep.

When the first rays of sunlight peeked in the blinds, Ang woke slowly. She was toasty warm, but not uncomfortably so. When she woke a little more she tried to stretch, but something was holding her down. She came all the way awake when she realized it was Richie’s arm. He was spooned against her, holding her to his chest.

Ang swallowed hard, and groaned to herself. She had no recollection of getting into bed with Richie, never mind cuddling up with him. She mentally took inventory, and determined they didn’t actually do anything last night. Judging by what was pressing into her backside, she’d definitely be feeling it this morning if they had. She smiled and blushed, then gave herself a mental shake.

Gingerly lifting Richie’s arm, she tried to sneak out from under him. He murmured incoherently and pulled her closer, nuzzling her neck. “Mmmm, where’re you going?” he rumbled sleepily.

“Richie, wake up,” Ang said softly.

“Don’t wanna,” he whined.

“Okay,” Ang said softly, “then let me up for a minute.”

“You’ll come back?” he mumbled as he released her, his words barely discernable.

“Sure thing,” she answered as she slid out of bed, not intending to do anything of the sort. In fact, she hoped he had no memory of this at all. She was mortified beyond belief to have found herself nestled in bed with him – a man she barely knew. She pulled a robe from the closet and put it on, then hurried to the kitchen where she started a pot of coffee.