Lost Souls by J. Bishop (the giving tree read aloud txt) 📗

just appreciate you doing this for me. You could have walked away.”

“Almost did,” said Mason. “What was I thinking?”

“Should have gone with your gut,” said Trick.

Mason paused. “I did.”

Trick reached for a bag, but stopped.

“Listen,” said Mason. “You and I have had our ups and downs, but some of my best times were the two of us working together.” He paused. “It’s good to see you and to work with you again. I’ve missed it.”

Trick smiled. “I’ve missed it, too.” He picked up the brownies. “We’ll have these tomorrow, too.” He wiggled his brows and set them aside.

“You just keep your nose clean, okay? I know how quickly a case can go south if you don’t.”

“You don’t have to worry about me,” said Trick. He shot a stare at Mason. “I’m glad to see you’re doing the same.”

Mason held his gaze. “Have been for a while now. Don’t intend to stop.”

“Good.” Trick grabbed a bag of chips and put them in the pantry.

Mason rubbed his tight neck. “See you in the morning.”

“See you.”

Mason walked out of the kitchen and into his bedroom. Unbuttoning his shirt, he walked into his bathroom and flipped on the shower. The water shot from the nozzle, and Mason sighed in anticipation. During moments of mental fatigue, just sitting under a hot spray did wonders to help shed some of the weariness. He pulled off the rest of his clothes, threw on a robe, and stared into his mirror, waiting as the water heated. Staring at himself, he noted his tired features. His eyes were red, and his pallor a little gray. The day had taken its toll, and he couldn’t wait to get into bed and crash. Closing his eyes, he hung his head, thinking of his dream, and praying he could sleep. Sometimes his mind wouldn’t relent, and he would end up staring at the ceiling, worn and frustrated. Determined to rest though, he looked back in the mirror, and seeing his haggard features, he debated. He reached for the medicine cabinet and opened it.

A loud slam, followed by a high-pitched shriek made him jump, and his hand hit a shelf and almost knocked everything down. After righting the items, he closed the cabinet, ran out, and threw the bedroom door open. Looking down the hall, he saw Trick sitting on the ground outside the hallway bathroom, his hand on his heart and his breathing coming in short gasps. The bathroom door was closed.

Mason ran over. “What the hell happened? You okay?”

Trick stared, his face pale. “That damn door slammed on me. I was about to go in, and it…it…just closed. Hard. Right in front of me.”

Mason turned, recalling the door shutting the other night. He opened up, trying to figure out what presence was getting its kicks out of scaring him, and now Trick.

“It happened yesterday, too, when you were out,” said Trick. “I thought it was a draft.”

“It’s not a draft,” said Mason, approaching the door.

“I’m getting’ that. Scared the shit out of me.”

Mason put his hand on the ice-cold knob and opened it. The door creaked and he looked in, but saw just the dark interior. Nothing was out of place.

“What the hell is going on, Red?” Trick stood and came up behind Mason, breathing hard.

“I don’t know,” said Mason. “It happened to me, too. A few nights ago. I think someone’s trying to get our attention.”

“Someone? What…what do you mean?” Trick sputtered. “Like a ghost?”

“Yes. Like a ghost.” Mason checked behind the door and then stepped back, leaving it open.

Trick’s eyes were wide. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“No.” Mason took a deep breath and felt for whatever spirit was around, but couldn’t pick up on anything. “I am not fucking kidding you.”

Trick’s jaw hung open. “Well, that’s something you might want to include in your welcome brochure.”

Mason shrugged. “It’s no big deal. I think it’s gone now.” He headed down the hall toward his room.

“Wh…What?” Trick followed him. “Wait a minute. Where are you going?” He kept an eye on the bathroom.

“To the shower. The water’s running. Then I’m going to sleep.”

Trick’s eyes rounded. “You’re going to bed? After that?”

“Yes. Why not?”

Trick pointed. “Because there’s a damn ghost in the house. Doesn’t that bother you?”

“No.” Mason shrugged. “There’re ghosts all over the place. Not just this house. The majority are harmless. Don’t worry about it.” He turned toward his room, but Trick grabbed his elbow.

“Are you trying to tell me that we’re not alone? There are other ghosts here besides the bathroom man?”

“It actually feels female to me, and yes, there are others hanging around.” He patted Trick on the shoulder. “But don’t worry. You’ll get used to it.”

“Used to it?” yelled Trick.

Mason stopped at his door. “If you’re going to stay with me, it comes with the territory. I broke up with my girlfriend because of it. She didn’t like it either. They kept pulling her covers off at night.”

Trick’s jaw fell. “Shit, Red. Can’t you do something?”

Mason hesitated and rested his hand against the doorframe. “What would you like me to do?”

“I don’t know. You’re the one who talks to ’em. Tell them to back off. I’m a virgin in these woods.”

Mason almost laughed. “You screamed like a kid. You keep doing that, and they’ll either keep scaring you because they get a kick out of it, or they’ll stop because you’re scaring them, too.” He did chuckle then. “Most singers can’t hit the note you hit.”

“Can you blame me?” Trick’s gaze darted around the hall. “I’m creeped out.”

“Well, you can sleep in your car if you want, but I suspect the bed will be more comfortable.” A clock on the wall chimed softly and Trick jumped. “Just relax. It’ll be fine.”

“Didn’t the mom say that to her daughter in The Exorcist?”

Mason started to shut the door. “I’m going to take my shower.”

“You expect me to use that bathroom?”

“There’s always the great outdoors. Your choice. Good night.” He swung the door and closed it.

Trick yelled from the hall.