Possess (6 page)

Haunted

My mind felt like it was twisting in knots as I tried to rationalize the dream of that girl. Why was I dreaming about her again? Maybe it was just my brain mashing up memories of people I’d seen or images from a movie. It had to be a coincidence. There wasn't any other explanation I could think of.
My eyes are playing tricks on me, I’m just scaring myself. The apartment is fine.
Try as I might, my silent pep talk did nothing to lift my mood.

My body was tired as I walked toward Finley’s, but at least the bump on the back of my head was now only a dull ache. My hair laid over my back and shoulders, still damp.
You should have at least dried your hair,
I scolded myself. My teeth chattered as the wind whipped through my wet locks, the skin on my neck pricking up from the mixture of wet hair and a cold fall breeze.

I turned the corner and Finley's came into view. My shoulders tightened at the thought of seeing Nolan, especially like this – damp, disheveled hair and dark circles under my eyes. I looked like the walking dead. I stood at the corner and dug out my compact, hastily putting on enough concealer to at least lighten the marks on my face and the dark circles before proceeding.

 I still didn't know what to make of Nolan or the way he acted around me. I wanted to like him, but there was something hidden beneath the surface that made me wary. He seemed like a nice guy, but there was something about the way I caught him watching me, like he stared at me in the park. There was something veiled in those eyes of his and whatever it was, he wasn't open to discussing it. He made that clear with his swift exit after our breakfast in the park.

As I the reached door of Finley's, Krista, one of the other waitresses, was attempting to pull out the sidewalk sign. I grabbed the door for her and she tumbled past me, smiling and mouthing a “thank you” before the breeze blew her platinum blonde hair out of her face. The poor girl did not seem cut out for waitressing. She was a freshman at Midtown University, and obviously the working world as well. A skinny, kind-hearted girl with freckles on her nose and absolutely no coordination. Since I'd been working here she'd easily broken one plate a day and spilled drinks on at least five customers. She was friendly and cute though, so people were generally forgiving.

I let the door swing shut behind me and continued toward the back of the pub. As soon as Aggie saw me she tipped her head forward and examined me with an intense stare.

“Jesus Harley, you look like shit.” She wasted no time with pleasantries. Better to be blunt and to the point, I suppose.

“I had a rough night.” I huffed, sliding off my jacket and hanging it on the same hook as my bag. Aggie shook her head in response. After I'd tied my apron around my waist she grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the restrooms. She stopped in front of the set of mirrors and reached into the purse hanging across her body. After one final assessment of my haggard appearance, she tossed a small make-up bag, a hairbrush, and extra hair-ties onto the counter.

“Spill.” She commanded from behind me, the brush tugging my hair back as she ran it through the knotted mess.

“I just had a bad dream. Probably from being in a new place, you know?”

“Ooookay. So what was the dream about?” She raised an eyebrow as she peered over my shoulder. Her fingers worked quickly, twisting my long hair into a braid and leaving a few loose strands to frame my face.

“I saw a girl in my kitchen. She sort of looked like me, though a bit thinner and paler, complexion-wise. She just kept crying and yelling at me.” I scrunched my nose, remembering her hands squeezing my wrists.

“That is definitely weird.” Aggie nodded thoughtfully.

“I saw her the first night I moved into my apartment too. But in that dream she kissed me. This time she just called me, Brody.” The brush clattered against the floor as it fell out of Aggie’s hand and I raised my eyes to meet hers in the mirror. They were wide and panicked, and her mouth was open slightly. After a moment, she shook her head, pulling her mouth shut.

“Harley, where is your apartment?”

“It's an old brick five-story apartment building off of Flagstone.” I answered, my voice hesitant.

“What apartment number?”

“Three thirty-three.”

“Are you kidding me, Harley?”

“What?” I spun around to look at her.

“You need to move out of there. Did the landlord tell you about that apartment?” Aggie grasped my shoulders tightly, a look of pure horror in her green eyes.

“Well yeah...some guy killed himself there.”

“And you still moved in?!” Aggie's voice went up an octave, her eyebrows following suit as she jostled me. I let out a sigh, turning away from her. I didn't like feeling like a scolded child.

“Listen, I didn't have a lot of options. The apartment was cheap, with utilities included. I don't believe in shit like ghosts, so I'm sure it's just some weird coincidence that I am seeing this girl.” I knew I didn't sound the least bit convincing, but I refused to give in to that possibility. Ghosts were something my hippie-dippie mother believed in. Not me.

“Sorry…it’s just –” Aggie closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “When you can, I really suggest you move.” she said quietly, before gently nudging me to turn to her. I studied her while she dabbed color on my lips and cheeks. I got the impression there was more she wanted to say but for some reason she just couldn’t get it out. It didn’t seem like simple fear of some local urban legend. It went deeper than that. Sadness flickered through her green eyes as she put the rest of her makeup away then forced a smile across her lips. “All done.”

I couldn’t keep my mind off of the conversation with Aggie. As soon as we left the bathroom she was her normal cheerful self. But a few times throughout the day I saw that same, sad look when she thought nobody was watching.  I considered talking to Nolan, but he barely managed a “hi” when he walked in later that afternoon and resumed his usual post in his office.

“Miss? Did you get my order?” The annoyance in my customer's voice pulled me back from my thoughts. 
Had I really just been standing here, spacing out in front of a customer? Yep...sure had
.      

“I'm sorry sir, it's a little loud in here. Could you repeat that?” I asked, my pen poised over the order pad. The man narrowed his eyes with a look of disdain and grumbled something under his breath before repeating his order to me. I read it back before offering an apologetic smile and disappearing into the kitchen.

“Eli, I need a cheeseburger, medium-well, no onions.” I called out as I clipped the order slip over the prep station. He acknowledged my request with a nod and a wink before slapping another raw patty onto the grill. Satisfied, I pushed through the swinging door then squeezed past Aggie manning the bar. She handed me a glass and resumed pouring shots for a group of grungy, lanky barely legals that seemed to be enamored with her bartending skills. Or her boobs. Probably both.

I pulled the tap to a dark lager and looked over my shoulder to see my customer glaring at me as his fingers rapped against the lacquered tabletop.
Seriously? 
I turned my attention back to the tap as the foamy head reached the rim of the glass.      

“Order up,” Eli shouted from the back and slid the plate over the counter toward me. I grabbed a clean tray and carefully set the beer and the steaming dish on it before I headed back towards Mr. Grumpy.  His cold stare bore holes through me as I walked toward him and his fingers still drummed against the table in an impatient staccato. I plastered the most pleasant smile I could manage on my face, knowing it would have zero effect on his satisfaction with my waiting abilities.

“Watch out!” A voice yelled to the left of me. I turned to see who they were talking to, but it was too late. A white cue ball flew at my head before I could duck out of the way.

Rogue CueBall

“Harley? Harley are you okay?” Cold water dripped in my eyes as Aggie's voice hovered over me. I blinked the water away and looked up to see her staring down at me.

“Yeah, I'm...what happened?” I attempted to sit up, but Aggie's hand pressed on my shoulder, holding me to the floor.

“Careful.” She urged me. She glanced up toward my customer’s table and my eyes followed her gaze as I realized Mr. Grumpy was now standing, his beet red face in Nolan's as a stream of obscenities came spewing out of his mouth. Nolan's back was to us, but I could see the muscles in his shoulders and neck tighten and shift. He squeezed his hands into fists as if to keep them from wrapping around the man's neck.

“That bitch hasn't been paying attention to her job since I got here. It's her own damned fault she got hit. Now what the fuck am I going to do with my food all over the floor?” The man flailed his arm at the spilt food and took a step closer to Nolan.

“Honestly, I don’t care what ya do with it. Nobody talks about one of my staff like that, so yer free ta leave.” Nolan stood straight, his six-foot frame towering over the puffy middle-aged man.

“This place really has gone to shit since your father turned it over to you. At least he knew how to hire good help.” The man grumbled as he slipped on his coat. “He should have known better than to let his criminal of a son run this place.”

Wait, what?

Aggie's hand tightened on my shoulder and I looked up to ask her what was wrong but she only shook her head at me. Her eyes were glued to the scene in front of us as Nolan cocked his head to the side and rolled a shoulder back. From my angle, I could see his jaw clench as he raised his fist.

“Nolan, it’s not worth it.” Aggie’s voice snapped him out of it and he turned toward us, blinking for a moment before turning back to the man.

“If ya don't walk out of my pub in the next five seconds, I’ll carry yer miserable arse out myself.” From his earlier display, it wasn’t an idle threat. He stepped closer to the man and gripped the back of a chair to restrain himself. The puffy man went to speak again but thought better of it and turned, heading straight for the exit. Nolan stood still, his eyes staring at him as he scurried out onto the sidewalk. It wasn't until he was out of view that Nolan’s grip loosed and he turned back towards us. His expression immediately softened as he knelt down to look over me.

“She'll be fine, Nolan. She's got a doozy of a lump forming and might have a concussion though.” Aggie answered authoritatively, as if she had seen injuries of a similar nature occur in her days at the pub.
You never know when a rogue cue ball will strike...or when a drunken idiot gets a hold of a pool stick
, I thought.

“I'm fine you two. Really.” I tried to sound convincing, though two head injuries in one day was probably pushing my limit.

“I'll take her ta get checked out.” Nolan told Aggie as he slid a hand under my shoulder.

“I said I’m fine!”

“Harley, even if ya think yer fine, as yer employer I’m held liable if ya get hurt here. Just let me take ya ta get looked at real quick.” He frowned at me. I shrugged in defeat and let he and Aggie pull me to my feet. The room tilted slightly, but I didn't dare tell them that. “Bring her out the back entrance ta my car.” Nolan told Aggie before he disappeared into the kitchen.

“You guys are making a big deal out of nothing. I’m completely fine.”

“Fine my arse.” She mumbled, throwing me a sideways glance as I stumbled next to her. I rolled my eyes but quickly realized it wasn’t the best idea when you’re already dizzy.

“Whoa there.” My face landed against Nolan's chest and my forehead brushed against the scruff on his neck as he caught me. “Someone is taking the rest of the night off.” He looked down at me as he helped me steady myself.

“Seriously guys. Five minutes and I'll be good as new.”

“Shut up, Harley.” Aggie immediately scolded me. I was not winning this one.

Aggie took care to load me into the passenger side of Nolan's yellow Honda hatchback. For such a tall guy, I had no idea how he fit himself in there. Less than five minutes later, he parked in front of the urgent care center attached to the hospital.

“Here we go.” Nolan opened my door and reached down to help me out of the low sitting car. The awkwardness that seemed to exist between us must have been forgotten momentarily with my alarming billiard injury. He kept an arm crooked around my waist as we walked into the urgent care center towards the reception desk.

“How can I help you?” A frail-looking older lady smiled at us from the other side of the desk.

“She might have a concussion.” He nodded towards me. I sighed but remained silent. Things had stopped spinning slightly, but I still felt like I was on a carousel. She pressed her lips together as she appraised my current state, and then instructed me to fill out a stack of paperwork before pointing us to the waiting area.

“So next time someone yells “Watch out!” I'll be sure to duck.” I joked as I scribbled down some basic information. Nolan didn't seem as amused as he stared at the growing lump on my head with concern.

“I'm sorry that arsehole was saying those things about ya, or that ya had ta hear any of it.” Nolan's voice was apologetic as he watched me.

“It's fine. He was a miserable grouch.” I shrugged, handing him the clipboard. I wasn't about to venture back towards the reception desk unassisted. Nolan took it from me and returned it to the old woman.

“So, Finley's was your dad's place first?” I asked as he sat back down.

“Yep.” He grinned. “My dad opened the place back when I was just a baby, after they moved here from Ireland. He decided ta retire six years ago and turned it over ta me. He and my mom moved down ta Florida.”

“Did you want to take over Finley's?” I asked, unsure if I was hitting on unsafe territory.

“Oh yeah. I loved that place. Worked there straight through my teens. I always knew it would be mine one day.”  His face lit up as he talked about the pub. I couldn't help but smile as well, fascinated by his passion for it. All I had wanted since I was a teenager was to get out of Louisiana. Maybe if I had grown up in a place like this I wouldn't have wanted to leave either.

“Harley Martin?” A nurse called my name as a large door swung open next to reception. I went to stand, but stumbled again. Nolan caught my arm and walked me to an examination room. He helped me onto the exam table and we remained silent. After thirty minutes a doctor walked in. An older gentleman with salt and pepper hair and a matching trimmed beard.

“Head injury, eh?” He raised an eyebrow as he looked up from the chart.

“Yep.” I mumbled as he flashed a penlight into one eye then the other, a thoughtful “hmmm” leaving his lips as he leaned back from me and rubbed his chin.

“Have you been having issues with balance, Ms. Martin?”

“Well, I mean I got knocked out. I was a little dizzy but I think I’m fine now. If anything I’m a little tired.” I shrugged, a yawn involuntarily escaping my mouth.  The doctor’s eyes darted over to Nolan for a moment as his hand dropped from his beard.

“Well, Ms. Martin, from the looks of it, I’d say you have a concussion. Your pupils are uneven, you’re tired, dizzy, good indicators of one.” He stated. “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to get a CT-scan done just to make sure there isn’t any permanent neurological damage occurring.”

“That won’t be necessary,” I objected and attempted to slide off the exam table. Just like before, I lost my balance and stumbled, banging my knee on the floor.

“Harley! Will ya just listen ta the damn doctor?” Nolan’s tone was a mixture of aggravation and worry as he helped me up. “She’ll get the CT-scan.” 

I looked helplessly back to Nolan, his eyes fixated on mine and unwavering.

“Those are really expensive, Nolan –”

“It’s fine, I’ll take care of it. I want ta make sure yer not seriously injured.” His voice had calmed to a low soothing tone as he sat me down in the chair he’d been occupying. His worried eyes glanced to mine and I felt completely disarmed by the concern in them, even if I felt like this wasn’t necessary.

“Fine then. CT-scan it is.”