been asked to leave. Sometimes, if the boys charmed the waitresses well enough, they’d snag a beer or two. “You in? I’ll wait.”
“Nah, I’m tired. Go on without me tonight.”
Reggie’s gaze flicked from Wyatt to Hannah and back. “You hanging out with Ghost Girl tonight?” His voice had an edge, something mean to it.
“I’m just waiting for Julia,” Hannah rushed to fill in, and Wyatt nodded once, small and approvingly.
“Ah, the two ghost girls.” Reggie stood, smacked his lips together, the silence awkward. “You can both come,” he said like he’d just thought of it.
“We have to get back. Our aunt makes dinner,” Hannah said.
“You know, if you’re looking for Julia, I think I saw her at Jinny’s.” Reggie took a step backward, flippant, like he was going to leave. “She’s into that stuff, I heard. It’s like devil worship. Witchery.”
Hannah hadn’t known, but it made sense. Jinny, Aunt Fae’s old friend, the town eccentric with the psychic shop. A place to buy oils and herbs and hopes and dreams for a bright future provided by Jinny with her stacks of jewelry and smell of patchouli. Hannah affected a look of boredom.
“It’s hardly devil worship. It’s just a hobby,” she said flatly, picking at the skin around her thumbnail.
“Pretty strange hobby for a ghost girl.” Reggie grinned again, his eyes hard. “Anyway, you two have fun. Whatever you’re up to.”
“We’re not up to anything, Plume,” Wyatt sighed, leaning over to wipe off the picnic table with a wet rag.
“Yeah, sure. I think Ghost Girl here has a crush.”
Hannah’s cheeks flamed hot, and Wyatt shrugged, his face a mask. “She’s just a kid, Reggie. I’m keeping an eye on her until her sister gets here.”
Like he was babysitting!
Hannah’s blood pressure spiked; she could feel the thrum in her temples. It was one thing to keep their relationship—whatever it was—under wraps. It was another to act so dismissive, like she was nothing.
“Ah, okay.” Reggie nodded, a flip of his hand: See ya later. He flicked his soda can into the closest wastebasket and whistled his way out of the gate.
Hannah sat stiffly, unsure of what to say next. “I should head back up.” She gestured toward the mountain and stood, her arms hanging at her sides heavily, unsure of what to do next.
Wyatt looked over at Hannah, his eyes darting. “I’m sorry. I panicked.”
“Well, then it’s okay, I guess,” Hannah said, her teeth clenched as she gathered her bicycle and realized she did look like a child. And to think she wanted him to find her sexy! The whole thing was humiliating.
Wyatt’s hand shot out and gripped her handlebars, his eyes searching hers earnestly. “Seriously, I’m sorry. Please don’t leave.”
She yanked the bike away and struggled to keep herself upright through hot tears.
Outside the park, in the parking lot, she picked up speed, the breeze lifting her hair, her thighs burning with the exertion. A shadow in the trees moved to under the streetlight, and she could make out the glint of Reggie’s blond hair, slicked and shining. She rode away from him, glancing back once to see the orange glow of a cigarette like a heartbeat in the dark.
When she finally got home, breathless, her face red from exertion and still smarting with embarrassment, she realized Julia’s bike was missing from the shed. Night had fallen at Brackenhill, and inside, the castle was warm and smelled like homemade dinner—meatloaf and mashed potatoes—and Julia was nowhere to be found.
Was she still at Jinny’s? Hannah wondered. What had she been doing there in the first place?
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Now
“I’m going into town,” Hannah announced to Huck, the yellowed truck title burning a hole in her back pocket. She wasn’t exactly being secretive on purpose, but Huck rarely had time for things that weren’t practical. She came close to telling him about Aunt Fae and Uncle Stuart not being married. About Warren Turnbull. But something inside stopped her.
Hannah tried to be patient. She knew he was getting restless rattling around this dark, cavernous castle all day while she chased down long-forgotten ghosts and a history he knew nothing about, especially when she kept it all close. She knew Huck was running out of steam to keep humoring her; he had a real life, a business. He was too kind to say so, too supportive to question her. Yet. But she knew it was coming. Soon he’d want to leave.