Blood Trial Supernatural Battle (Vampire Towers #1) - Kelly St. Clare Page 0,72

to me and I bolted upright. “Frankenstein!”

Mr Yersaw frowned down at me. “Huh?”

I was sprawled across his couch. Dang, I’d fallen asleep during the Truth Ranges omnibus. “Transportation.”

He mouthed the word, eyes scanning my face.

I glanced around, trying to kickstart my brain after the nap. I’d intended to stay for a couple of episodes—not the entire thing—but now another show was on, Harkies Hullabaloos—a cooking show following elderly divorced women who travelled the world on motorbikes.

“Sorry,” I said when I could trust my mouth. “I speak nonsense when I first wake.”

The skin around his eyes crinkled. “Had a friend in the Navy who used to do the same.”

“I apologise for falling asleep,” I muttered. “I got really, really drunk last night and I’m nursing a hangover.”

He returned to his seat. “Is that why your shoes are cream and your dress white? My wife used to say they shouldn’t be worn together.”

I blinked down at my flats which clashed with my outfit. “Yep, that’s why.”

“I never was one for drinking. Didn’t like the person I became with it.”

Neither had I last night.

“But I hope you had a good time with your friends,” he added when I didn’t reply.

My lips twitched. “I drank by myself in a hotel room.”

“Always thought that was the way I’d do it, too, if I took up alcohol,” he confessed. “Though that seemed a lot like being an alcoholic.” The middle-aged man coloured. “Not that you’re one—an alcoholic.”

My grin widened and I held up a hand. “Mr Yersaw, I’m not offended. Don’t worry, it was a one-off. Kind of. Happens a few times a year, tops. I should be going though. It has to be getting late.”

“7:00 p.m.,” he told me. “I didn’t know if I should wake you. You were out to it.”

Yeah, no wonder. I hadn’t taken good care of myself lately. My stomach was begging for food again, and the last few hours of sleep was the best I’d had all week. “Thank you so much for letting me watch the omnibus with you—even if I fell asleep.” I gave him a lopsided smile.

He smiled tentatively.

Mr Yersaw’s eyes slid to the file I’d chucked on the seat next to me. “You know. Watching TV with someone was nice. I retired a few months ago, but when I imagined retirement, I was travelling the world with a friend or catching up on a million hobbies. All I’ve done is sit in this house. As soon as I retired, my body decided to fall apart.”

I listened patiently as he rattled off his list of ailments.

“I’m beginning to hate this house.” He finished.

My heart panged. “No one likes feeling trapped. But maybe you’d like the house better if you got out of these walls for a while? Did some travelling.”

“No,” he said firmly. “Last week, I went to an RV sale yard. I want to drive something like that around—a new place every other week—for as long as I want. Weeks, months, or years. The rest of my life. They have convoys you can join, did you know? I could meet people.”

“Sounds like fun,” I said. “Why don’t you do it?”

“I need to pay for the RV.” He gave me a pointed look.

That blows. “That’s a real shame. Is there anything you could do for cash?”

He peered at the file. “I have an asset.”

I caught his second pointed look. Oh. Oh!

“You want to sell your house? If so, I can certainly help you.”

Excitement lit the man’s face. “You know, I hadn’t planned to sell for another fifteen years. I can keep up with the maintenance and I’ve lived here since I scraped together the house deposit thirty years ago. But I guess the last three months have shown me that I’ve spent my life working. I’ll be dead in thirty years at best. I need to do something now.”

Okay, shit. I was maybe about to sell a house.

Shaking back my bed hair, I picked up the file and perched on the seat. “If you’re looking for something right now, you are talking to the right woman. Live Right has a same-day signing option.”

All prelim files came with a valuation and a few contracts with different values on them.

“You’re kidding?” he said, slumping back on the two-seater. “Today?”

“If that’s what you want, I can make it happen. But are you sure you’re not rushing into this?”

Good one, Basi. Talk him out of it.

He stared vacantly, then frowned at his hands. “It’s the opposite. I should have rushed into