“Yes, I’ll show your soul how to borrow a body.”
G.R. smiled and gazed back to the door Piper and Frankie just went through. “Yes, how to borrow indeed.”
I glanced at Storm. It was one of the times I really wished he had a face so I could read his expression. Because what G.R. said just now… it sounded kind of ominous.
Before anyone could ask him what he meant, he was ushering us off through his insta-doors so we could give him back what we stole. It didn’t take long and once he had gotten exactly that, he sent us back to the Target’s house where he said we were responsible for the body. Apparently he wasn’t interested in keeping it or eating it (I certainly didn’t ask him about that).
He didn’t even say good-bye to me.
I didn’t care.
When his doorway closed for the final time, all I felt was relief. I was never going to have to kill again. And maybe, somehow, with the life I had left, I could try to make up for some of the lives I had taken.
But first I had a body to dispose of.
“What the hell are we gonna do with her?” Storm complained. “Why does she have to be the senator’s daughter?”
“It doesn’t really matter who she was,” I said. “Because even if she had been a nobody, someone would have loved her and that someone’s entire world would be over.”
“If I had a face, I would be crying right now,” Storm said.
I laughed. “Smartass.”
He made a heavy groaning sound and I rolled my eyes.
“What I said wasn’t that bad,” I replied.
“That was not me.”
Someone groaned again. I looked down at the Target. It was her.
“Dude, I thought she was dead,” Storm said.
“She was. Wasn’t she?”
“I-I don’t know. When you snapped her neck, everything went black. It was like I was unconscious. The next thing I remembered was trying to get out. I was so disoriented though, it was hard.”
She moaned again. This time her head moved back and forth.
“Can someone survive getting their neck snapped?” Storm asked.
“No.” But she wasn’t dead. Clearly.
“Maybe you didn’t do it right?”
She groaned again; this time her hands moved.
“Is it possible that somehow having your soul inside her protected her from dying?” It was a crazy thought. Wasn’t it?
“I don’t know. I’ve never been in someone’s body when they died before.”
“Olly?” Frankie whispered, stepping in from the other room. I jumped a little, surprised at her appearance. Then I realized she hadn’t just appeared; she walked into the room like any normal human would do. Except this time I couldn’t hear or feel her coming.
I was completely human now.
I smiled.
“Is she alive?” Frankie said, completely ignoring the fact that I was having a moment. It was likely the first of many private moments I would be having due to my newfound freedom.
“I think so,” I answered.
She gave a great shout of joy and pulled out her phone. “I’m going to call for help.”
“What will G.R. say if he hears about this?” Storm worried. Frankie lowered her phone and frowned.
“It doesn’t matter. He’s already made the deal. He can’t go back now.”
Frankie grinned.
“You guys get out of here. I’ll wait and tell the ambulance I found her like this when I showed up for lunch.”
“I don’t want to leave you here alone.”
She caught my hand and smiled. “I’ll be fine. See you at home.”
Home.
I liked the sound of that.
Chapter Fifty-Two
“Marilyn Monroe - (June 1, 1926 - August 5, 1962) was an American actress, singer, and model.”
Frankie
3 days later…
We had one perfect day. One perfect day of freedom and happiness.
Then I started worrying.
When I woke up and reached for him, he wasn’t there. I sat up, pushing the hair out of my eyes, and called out his name. I thought he was in the kitchen, making coffee, or would come bounding in from the bathroom.
He didn’t.
I wandered through the apartment, noting he wasn’t there.
The familiar ache from the day in Scotland tried to make an appearance. I shut it down. I wasn’t going to go there. I knew he wouldn’t leave me. Not after everything. Not even the parts of him that made up Charming could ever make him leave.
Still, something was off.
He was gone already today and yesterday… yesterday he’d been gone most of the day as well. When he returned home (looking mighty lickable in those jeans he wore so well), he acted like everything was fine. He grabbed me up and kissed me senseless, almost making me forget to ask where he’d been.
But I didn’t forget.
I asked.
He was shady.
And now he was gone again.
I really thought the honeymoon period of my happily ever after would last a little longer.
I decided to give him hell when he got home. But in order to properly give a man hell, a lady had to make sure she looked hot. Hot as in you better watch it because if you don’t treat me right someone else will kind of hot. My heart would never belong to another man, not even if Olly never came back today, but he didn’t need to know all my secrets.
I rushed into the bathroom and took a hot shower. I shaved, I exfoliated, and I did things to my body a man would never even dream of doing to his. Then I lotioned and potioned and styled until I stepped out of the bathroom in a way that if I walked down the street, every man would turn his head. Some would probably even follow.
And then I waited.
I heard the key in the door not too much later, and I smiled, sitting sideways in the armchair with my legs flung over the side and an open magazine in front of my face.
When he walked in, I flipped down one corner and looked at him. “Oh, hey,” I said casually.
He raised an eyebrow at me. “That’s quite the dress.”
“This old thing?” I scoffed and stood, tossing the magazine onto the coffee table. I gestured toward the red body-hugging dress I wore. “I found it in the back of my closet.”
“I’m surprised you found your way out of your closet.”
I narrowed my eyes.
“I’m guessing all this is because I’m in trouble,” he said, waving his finger at me.
Damn. “All what?”
He smirked. “Before you give me a lecture—I hate lectures, by the way—why don’t you open your present?”