Because You're Mine(40)
His footsteps faded, and loneliness enveloped her. She nearly bit her tongue with the effort not to call out to him. The cacophony of katydids and other insects intensified in the dark, and she allowed the sound to drown out her longing for companionship. She’d been a twosome so long, and she hated sleeping alone.
Alanna moved her throbbing legs restlessly under the cool brush of the sheets. She’d never be able to sleep with that din outside. Lying in the dark with her eyes wide open, she went once more through the events leading up to the shove. Had she smelled anything, heard anything that might give a clue to the person who wanted to harm her?
And why push her down the hillside? The fall wasn’t likely to kill her. Did someone want to frighten her away from the estate? The hatred in Patricia’s expression came back to Alanna. Could it have been Barry’s mother? His parents hadn’t come to see what the sirens meant, which seemed strange now that she thought about it.
Maybe it hadn’t been Jesse. Alanna had been quick to jump to conclusions, but she didn’t think the shove down the hill had been a murder attempt. Once she found out why Jesse had come, she’d understand more.
Eighteen
The ambulance had pulled away without Alanna in it. Jesse stood in the shadows with the mosquitoes buzzing around his ears in the moist night air and watched the lights in the Blackwater mansion. He knew he should go home, but he wanted to be close to Alanna. So he hid his car in a grove of trees dripping with moss, then watched until Barry’s Mercedes returned. Curling his hands into fists, he watched Barry help Alanna inside.
She belongs to me. That man had no right to put his hands on her.
The minute Jesse had touched Alanna, something happened to him. An overwhelming love welled inside of him, and he had no idea where it had come from. Visions of holding her, kissing her, had flashed through his mind. He wanted her for his own.
And in that moment, he realized he was being influenced in some way by Liam’s spirit. Possessed maybe.
He shook his head. Maybe he was going crazy. He rubbed his head and groaned. What a nutty idea. He didn’t believe in demons or spirits, did he? But then again, how would he know? Maybe it was all part of his brain trauma.
The lights upstairs had gone on a little while ago, then gone out again. A figure passed in front of the big front windows downstairs. Barry’s face peered out into the night, and Jesse shrank back into the shadows. He needed to get out of here before he was caught. If Barry ordered him off the property, he wouldn’t get the opportunity he needed to talk to Alanna, figure out what was happening to him.
He thrashed through high weeds in a jagged trail to his car, parked halfway down the drive. Something slithered away in the undergrowth, but he only cared about not being seen by Barry.
He banged his shin against the car fender in the dark, then felt his way around to the driver’s door. After half falling into the seat, he closed the door with as little noise as possible, then started the engine and backed out of the car’s hiding place with no lights. Once he emerged from the trees, the moon lit the way.
There was no traffic on the road past the estate. He peered through the trees but couldn’t see the house from here with the live oaks blocking the view. His hands trembled on the steering wheel, and he had no idea why he was so agitated. Was it leaving Alanna behind? Or maybe this crazy sense that she belonged to him.
He drove to the city and found himself passing by St. Michael’s again. A man in a collar stood by one of the front pillars. Before he could talk himself out of it, Jesse parked his car and got out. Belching fumes, a truck rumbled by. Jesse waited for it to disappear around a corner before he walked across the street.
The priest was walking away from the church toward a small red car. “Excuse me,” Jesse called. “Are you the rector?”
The man turned with a smile. “Why, no. I’m the priest for a parish in Louisiana. I’m visiting the area. Can I help you?”
Should he talk to this fellow? The man’s blue eyes held a warm welcome in the wash of streetlight. What Jesse had to say would sound so crazy, but surely a priest could help him sort through the muddle he found himself in.
He put his hands in his pockets. “It sounds crazy. Maybe I am crazy.”
In his midthirties, the priest was slightly built with a shock of sandy hair. He studied Jesse’s face. “Have a seat.” He indicated a park bench along the sidewalk, then sat down and glanced up at Jesse with an interested smile.
Why not? Jesse sat beside the priest and laced his fingers together around his knee. “What do you think happens to a man’s spirit when he dies?”
“Is this a rhetorical question or do you have a reason for asking?”
Jesse didn’t want to be drawn into a theological discussion. He wanted answers. “Do you believe a spirit can possess another person? Or at least bug the heck out of them?”
The priest smiled. “Who do you believe is possessed?”
“Me.” Jesse watched for a reaction, but the priest’s expression didn’t change. This was a waste of time.
The man’s gaze locked with his. “What makes you believe you’re possessed?”
“There was this car bomb. My best friend was killed, and I think his spirit or some imprint of his memory moved to me. I know things about his life. Things I could only know if part of his spirit transferred to me.”