Fear No More (Ghost No More Series Book 3) Read online

  I didn’t know I’d never be coming back.

  4

  Darkest Before Dawn

  When I’d finally reached Trevor, he was curled up on the rear seat of Genae’s car.

  “Trevor?” I was horrified. He mumbled something in response, but I could hardly understand him, both from his tears and the fact that his face was pressed against his arms. He was going on and on, something to do with his worthlessness. Even though he wouldn’t look at me, he grabbed my hand like a drowning man.

  I scooted next to him on the seat and patted his leg.

  “Please don’t leave me,” he begged. “I need you. I need a friend.”

  “I won’t, Trevor. Don’t worry, I won’t.”

  In the end, I stayed with him most of the night. Our conversation went back-and-forth with me trying to give him advice and encouragement, and him telling me that he was afraid he still might hurt himself once I did leave. I was scared to death that it wasn’t an empty threat. But, every time I got too scared he’d quickly reassure me that I was really helping him.

  I wanted to believe him.

  He told me I was the only one who’d ever understood him.

  Those words fell like a warm balm on my heart. For the first time in my life, it felt like someone needed me.

  Maybe even understood me. We parked the car and walked out along the river bank, finding a log to sit on under the moonlight. The conversation was pointless, and random, and yet felt so deep. It seemed like we had so many things in common. I began to share some of my thoughts and fears, and at everything I said, he’d exclaim, “Yes! I’ve felt that way too.”

  It was like coming home to have someone listen to me. Afterwards he held my hand and said he’d never felt that way with another girl. My heart melted.

  I knew I had to get home though, even though I didn’t want to end our conversation. He didn’t either, and kept telling me to stay with him for “just a few more minutes.” Finally, at three in the morning, I talked him into driving me home. I was exhausted.

  When he turned onto my street, we both gasped like we’d been hit with a bucket of ice-water. The street was lit up with the red and blue flashing lights of two police cars parked in my driveway. It was a gut punch. I sunk back in the seat and covered my face with my hands. It’d finally happened. Mama had told me if I ever left home, she’d call the police and have me listed as a run-away. And she’d been adamant that I wouldn’t be welcomed back.

  Ever.

  5

  Where Can I Go?

  The hellish night was turning into an even longer day. After we’d seen the police cars, Trevor flipped a U-turn and sped off back to town. We ended up at an all-night diner drinking cup after cup of coffee. I didn’t even like coffee, but gagged down the sour cupfuls, hoping they would snap me out of my shock and help me figure out what in the world I was going to do next.

  We didn’t talk any more. All of our words were spent during the night. In the near-empty restaurant, we watched the sunrise through the dingy windows. Its golden light spilled over the dark land and gilded the tops of the pine trees. I tried to drink the beauty in, hoping it would push back the hopelessness that was threatening to pull me under.

  The quiet was short-lived as the diner began filling up with people looking for breakfast. Trevor grabbed my hand and led me out.

  Later, Trevor dropped me off in front of the school, with me still dressed in the clothes from the day before. A couple of the guys who were walking in at the same time as me made smart-aleck remarks about the walk of shame. I ignored them, too tired to care.

  I stuck a sticky-note onto my best friend’s locker, asking her to meet me in the library during third period. That was my study-hall, and Taylor’s P.E. class, two classes we could usually get out of pretty easily.

  From there I hurried down the hall to Lab room 103. I took my dreaded Chemistry test on auto-pilot. Luckily, this was just an end-of-chapter test, and my GPA was high enough to swing it if I didn’t pass.

  During study-hall, I asked the teacher if it would be okay to head to the library to pick up a book. Permission was granted, and I jogged along the hallway hoping Taylor was already there waiting for me.

  I ran up to the library doors and tried to shove them open. The glass doors jammed with a shudder as I smashed into them, leaving a perfect print of my cheek on the glass. What the heck? Then I saw the circle sticker clearly labeled “pull.” Red heat flushed my face. Internally, I yelled, “GAH!” and yanked open the door.

  The library was cool and dark inside. This place always amazed me, like it was a time capsule locked away from the regular world, where everyone’s voices magically registered several decibels lower after entering through the doors. In my entire life the library had always been a sanctuary, a place to hide and shed my own life, clothing myself in someone else's dream world.

  Standing behind the check-out counter with an armload of books was my friend, Sylvia. I hoped she missed my grand-entrance. Next to her, spinning around on a stool, was a guy with dark hair. Sylvia dumped the pile of books onto the counter. “Get off your lazy butt and help me,” she said crossly to the guy. He eyeballed me, then leaned over to whisper something to Sylvia and laughed. Immediately, I felt prickly.

  “Problem with the door?” Sylvia asked. “You hit that thing like a Mack truck.”

  I made a face at her. “Ugh! I’ve been up all night and had a Chemistry test today. My brain is fried.”

  The guy shifted on his stool and smirked. “The door says, ‘Pull.’ Maybe you need to take a remedial reading class instead of Chemistry.” He lifted a dark eyebrow at me and smiled.

  I bristled inside. What the heck was he smiling at? I was not going to put up with any attitude. Not. Today. Buddy. He casually reached into his pocket and brought out a knife. Sliding it open, he started to clean under his nails. I glared at him for a second longer before looking away.

  Just then, a bunch of rowdy guys came in through the side door. They were using the library like a hallway to the main hall. One of them in a football jersey slapped the counter in drum-beat greeting as he walked by. Library guy waved as they went through.

  Oh, great, he’s a partier. Definitely a partier. I wanted nothing to do with that scene.

  I decided to ignore him as I waved goodbye to Sylvia. Turning, I searched for Taylor. The library was fuller than usual. I walked back to one of the empty tables on the other side of the room, feeling like all my hopes were pinned on her arrival

  “Hey! You’d be in the class with me!” he called after me.

  “Jim,” I overheard Sylvia. “Face it dude, she ain’t your type.”

  “Why not?”

  “She’s smart.”

  I didn’t turn around at their laughter. Just keep walking, he’s nothing but trouble.

  And I’ve got more than enough.

  When I got to the table, disappointment settled over me. Taylor wasn’t there. Oh great, this would be the one time she couldn’t get out of class. Sighing, I pulled out a spiral from my backpack and started doodling, still with no idea of what I was going to do. I thought about listing some options, and quickly wrote out numbers one through five. After staring at it for a minute, I tore out the paper and crumpled it to a ball. Besides the numbers, the list was blank.

  Taylor showed up just as the bell rang, her clothing and hair all rumpled in the usual way she had when she was stressed and in a rush. But, with her dark eyes and long legs, she always managed to look amazing, even with hair flying out of her ponytail.

  She practically vibrated in a flurry of nervous energy as she fell into the seat next to me. “Crazy day!” She started off at a million miles per second. “I was late to school! Then my locker wouldn’t open! You know how it’s been jamming lately? And the janitor always tells me to “Just turn it a hard left.” And then I turn and turn and--”

  I grabbed her by the arm. “You’ll never guess what happened last night.” The words came tumbling out as I explaine
d how I was basically homeless.

  Her mouth fell open, and she grabbed me in a big hug. “Oh, CeeCee! That’s horrible!”

  “Well, what do you think?” I asked her. “Can I stay with you for a little bit? Just for a few days?” My heart beat in my throat as I waited for her answer. Please please please please.

  Dropping her arms, she looked at the floor. Her eyes flicked back at me. “Well,” she hesitated. “You can probably stay in our barn. Maybe a night or two.” She smoothed her skirt and wouldn’t look me in the eye. “I’ll try to come out there with a blanket and a sandwich.” Then she smiled at me. “Somehow, I’ll make it work.”

  The barn. My world sunk around me. I stared at the table and tried not to cry. I didn’t know if I could handle sleeping in a barn by myself.

  “W…” I stuttered, “Why can’t I stay at your house?”

  She cleared her throat and looked over at the front counter. Sylvia and the dark-haired guy were talking with two sophomore girls. “It’s my dad. He’s…” Taylor paused and took a deep breath. “He’s crabby right now. He has a temper.”

  “I’ll be quiet,” I wheedled, my voice sounding high and desperate. I cleared it and tried to talk in a normal tone. “So quiet they won’t even know I’m there.”

  “I’m so sorry CeeCee.” Her voice hitched, and I thought she might cry too. “No, it won’t work. There’s no telling what he’d do.” She looked me straight in the eye when she said this, before cutting away. There was fear there.

  In that moment, I realized in the four years we’d been friends she’d never been to my house, and I’d never been invited to her house either.

  She was afraid. I had to fix this.

  “It’s okay. Don’t worry.” I took a deep breath and patted her on the arm. “I know you’d help if you could. Thanks for trying.” It wasn’t her problem anyway. I needed to figure this out myself.

  “I’m sorry,” she said again, her mouth downturned. She shuffled her math book into her other arm and tried to smile. “When he has these episodes, none of us want to be there.” Her smile wavered again. “I… I’ve got to go. I’m late for class.”

  She turned and hurried out. I felt my last hope snap as she left the library. This will work out, somehow. I rubbed my temple that was suddenly pounding, not knowing what to think. I just want to run away from my life. I laughed then, a sarcastic snort. Good try running when there’s no place to go.

  Ughh, Calculus was next. A freaking test. I glanced up at the clock on the wall, its huge white face circled with a plastic black frame. Time was running out. Two more classes, then I’d need to catch the bus to the restaurant.

  Where was I going to go when my shift was done?

  6

  Fake It Until You Make It

  Half-way through my work shift that afternoon, I’d already exhausted every last options of places to stay. Desperation filled me, and I could barely concentrate to take the patrons orders. I was just about to ask Murray if he’d let me crash at the restaurant for the night, something I dreaded because he was extra grumpy today, when Trevor showed up. Strangely, my heart beat in relief when I saw him.

  Be on guard. His drama is what got you here. I was torn between remembering his threats, as well as his friendship from the night before, and didn’t know if I could trust him.

  He sat down in one of the booths, and I brought him a soda. “Hey, did you find a place to go?” he asked. His eyes deepened with concern, and, for a second, I softened. But then I remembered how he’d scared me last night by threatening to jump out of the car while Genae was driving. I’d grabbed him by the ear and screamed at him to shut the door. The memory made me shiver, and I rubbed my arm.

  “No, not yet,” I murmured.

  He took a sip of his drink. “Don’t worry. I know a place you can stay, at least for a few weeks.” I didn’t really want his help, but couldn’t help feeling a flicker of hope. I was desperate. I didn’t want to sleep outside, heck I didn’t even have a winter jacket with me. Just the clothes from the night before.

  Looking at him again, I decided. As long as it wasn’t a barn, I’d be okay with it.

  He stuck around while I did my closing checks, even offering to help. Murray saw him refilling one of the salt shakers and shook his head. He waved me over. “Didn’t I warn you not to get involved with him?”

  Irritation flooded through me, and I put my hands on my hips. As if I’d date my coworker’s exboyfriends. “I’m not involved with him. We’re just friends.”

  Murray pulled his paper cap off his head. He looked at me while he balled it up. “Your funeral.” He threw a dark look at Trevor. “That guy’s nothing but trouble.” His meaty hand grabbed a plate of food off the counter that he’d made for himself. “You be careful, Missy.” He nodded at me before heading back up the stairs.

  I swallowed as I watched him walk away. If he only knew.

  I just needed to get off this crazy hamster wheel. Everything in my life was going so fast.

  The sound of a glass clinking pulled me out of my thoughts and made me look over. Trevor had caught one of the catsup bottles from falling to the floor.

  “Whoops!” He grinned at me. “About knocked it off.”

  “That,” I bit my lip to keep the hysterical giggle inside, “would have been a disaster.”

  I was losing it.

  I was also starving, having had nothing to eat since the coffee that morning. Quickly I grabbed a handful of saltine cracker packs and stuffed them in my pocket.

  We finished the rest of the tables, and then I grabbed the keys. He held the door open for me while I rifled under the counter for my grey-hooded sweatshirt. Then I gave the restaurant a slow look-over and turned off the lights. It was hard to leave, knowing the next place I’d be going was unknown.

  Outside, I bolted the door and pocketed the keys, before looking up at Trevor.

  “Ready?” he asked gently. Grabbing my hand, he led me over to his motorcycle. From one of the side bags he pulled out a helmet. “You’re going to be cold,” he said, “but I’ll go fast.”

  I yanked the sweatshirt over my head and then eyed the helmet. The whole idea of riding a motorcycle was starting to freak me out.

  “Hey, you’ll be fine,” he said, and rubbed my shoulder. “Just lean with me. It’s easy, I promise.”

  Deep breath in. Be cool. I tucked my hair around my ears and yanked the helmet on. He smiled and adjusted the straps a little for me.

  “Great,” he said, and swung a leg over the bike. He glanced back at me. “You going to get on or what?”

  “Yeah, sure.” I felt as graceful as a newborn giraffe trying to climb on the back of the bike. It took me a second to figure out where my feet were supposed to rest. Panic rocketed through me as soon as my feet left the ground and the bike swayed. My feet found the pegs and I swallowed hard. I was no longer in control. I grabbed tightly around his waist.

  “Ooof!” he gasped. “Not so tight!”

  “Sorry,” I murmured into his back, and let go of my grip a teensy bit.

  He adjusted on the seat. “More,” he said. I slid my hands a little further apart.

  With a kick, he got the bike going. As it rocked forward I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to meld into him like he’d told me to.

  The air froze my hands which had immediately clutched tighter around his middle when the bike took off. This didn’t feel natural; it was scary and out of control. And, after last night, I prayed he didn’t get any ideas of running off the road with me clinging to his back like a pygmy monkey.

  I took a lot of deep breaths to relax myself as we sped along the road. Heck, I should try to enjoy myself. It was pretty crazy to be flying around at this speed with no car “walls” caging me in. Super crazy. Maybe even kind of fun.

  Then we started to go through some twist and turns in the road. I did my best to lean with him, having to fight with my tense muscles that were adamantly insisting this was not fun!

  But then
, a voice reminded me… who cares if you fall off? At least it will be over.

  I stuffed it as quickly as I could.

  The road finally straightened out. After a few more turns, he pulled up to the front of a badly maintained single-story house.

  Trevor yanked off his helmet to reveal sweaty hair that stuck up in all directions. He ran his fingers through it to smooth it down. “This is my buddy’s place,” he said, indicating the house with a jerk of his thumb.

  “Ermmmm, okay. You’re just going to dump me off here?”

  “Relax.” He half laughed at the face I was making. “It’s okay. There’re lots of people that crash here all the time.”

  I tugged my helmet off and tried to fix my hair after it’d been squashed by the helmet. It wasn’t working. Giving up, I flipped my head and pulled it into a pony tail. I always kept a few bands around my wrist, usually tangled up in the beaded bracelets I wore.

  “Ready?” Trevor asked. I nodded, then noticed I was biting my bottom lip again. Ugh, just get me in there and get this over with before I gnaw my lip right off. Another nervous laugh threatened to explode out of me at the sudden vision of me with a missing bottom lip. Trevor looked at me with a crinkled forehead. “You okay?”

  “It’s nothing,” I answered and straightened my shirt. “Let’s go.”

  We walked up the steps to the porch. The front door was peeling, with vertical cracks that sprayed around the half-moon window at the top. Trevor grabbed the doorknob and opened it without knocking. I followed him into the living room. There was a crowd of teenaged boys surrounding a small TV.

  Familiar cartoon-like music exploded as they all shouted and groaned. Super Mario Brothers.

  “Hey,” Trevor said, as we walked in.

  Everyone but the guy holding the controller looked up at us. I eyed them carefully. They were all different ages, but most of them looked younger than me. “Hey Trevor,” one of the youngest said. I’d put him at about fourteen. Was he even in high school? What was this place?