She’d taken a bold step and called Chase, who told her not to say a word to anyone else. He promised to help her think of some way to communicate with Montana. But Jamie was refusing, right now, to enlist Sam because she was frightened something might happen to her.
It felt good having someone in her life worrying about her, but at the same time she’d been taking care of herself for a long time before Jamie.
And to top it off Chase made her swear to secrecy about the spell. He thought it was wonderful she could work it, told her to practice it more, and to keep an eye out for everything going on in the shop. In other words she had his permission to spy on Jamie and Doc.
Everyone continued to keep an eye on Max, because he wasn’t 100% right now due to Montana. And he’d consider telling Max about talking to her eventually, but, the awful but again, he almost felt like Montana could read Max’s mind sometimes and he wasn’t sure if telling him was a good thing right now.
What was that saying? Oh yeah, what a tangled web we weave. She could make a movie out of this, or maybe a small soap-opera.
Argh, two more hours before the shop opened. She tiptoed to the kitchen to make coffee, found some already made, poured a cup, then headed towards the bathroom.
Sam would have to rely on coffee and a mega hot shower to get her heart pumping enough to last for the day. She really couldn’t afford to be sleep deprived right now; she had to be on her toes for spying, and confident in her ability to use the spell when needed.
She hoped it would be soon.
I woke with a loud scream piercing my ears, pain shot through my body.
Oh, okay, the scream came from me; it was the dream-er-memory. Ugh I had to get those straight.
Well, at least the dead guy wasn’t looking so dead anymore. His skin was thickening up, healthier with color, and his hair was thicker. His eyes were a white, milky, cloudy mess. I was pretty sure they too would clear up soon.
I forced my eyes open. I wasn’t ready for a new day, all of my muscles ached.
Chase sat next to me with a pain killer and coffee. I smiled, gulped it down, then waited.
He stared at me, concentrating hard. I think he wanted me to read his mind.
Out of everyone I’ve known he’s always been the only one I haven’t been able to interpret. The only time I felt his emotions and intentions was after that dreaded shot. He learned to block himself fairly fast.
I opened myself up, an image of Sam flashed into my consciousness, but that was all. I blew out a breath and shook my head at him. He was just going to have to spit it out, out loud.
He smiled; he knew he shouldn’t do this. But he’d decided if Montana was going to have a mental breakdown it should be sooner rather than later.
He reached behind his back showing me the diary. I exhaled a light breath. Oh happy days. He dropped it on my lap before leaving the room.
I read through the journal. He hadn’t written anything in it! I flipped through the pages again, still not finding anything. Becoming frustrated I held the binder and shook it hard. A small piece of paper fell out. I dropped the book, reached for the paper, and gently unfolded it.
Sam knows the spell. Be prepared!
What was that supposed to mean?
I read it again, turned it over to make sure I hadn’t missed anything written on the other side, then read it again. Giving up on the meaning, but sure the note was important-I climbed out of bed and headed for the shower.
The reason my body hurt hit me when I was trying to stretch out my achy muscles. I moved the treasure chest last night; I remembered telling him I would hurt. I thought I was confused, tried to convince him of it, now I was pretty sure I was warped. Regardless, something big was happening, and I was the vessel. I repeated it a few times. I was the vessel, hmm.
Sam could help me? I still wasn’t able to speak of the whole situation out loud. Did I have to take care of this myself? With Sam’s help? How could she help if I couldn’t talk to her about it?
Be prepared. For what? When? Where?
At the beach, that’s where. I was sure of it, everything happened there. Now all I needed to do was answer the when and what.
I hurriedly dressed, applied half a tub of concealer under my raccoon eyes, added a small amount of makeup and shoved the note in my front pocket.
I tore out a page from my journal wrote down what and when on it, folded it, and stuck it in my back pocket.
I skipped down the stairs in a good mood. It was about time someone told me something. I was tired of trying to figure out the mass confusion which was my brain. I needed every tidbit of knowledge Chase could give me.
Max hadn’t shown yet, his presence around me seemed to grow stronger by the hour. I didn’t feel it now.
I grabbed my smokes, found Chase in the kitchen, and jumped into his arms. He gave me a quick hug then dropped me, stepping back just as quick with a sad look on his face.
I am a vessel crashed into my mind and I thought I finally understood. No touching “he” would know. Okay, I can live with that for a little while longer. I grinned, maybe I wasn’t losing Max after all.
I poured some coffee then pulled the note out of my pocket, showing it to Chase. His frown deepened, he shrugged his shoulders and shook his head.
Bummer, I thought, as he pulled some ketchup packets out of the fridge. He wrote remember ask his name in ketchup on the counter then cleaned it off with a sponge. It was the silliest thing I’d ever seen, but I committed it to memory, thinking at the same time I should be committed.
Chase watched Montana closely as he followed her out back. He was hoping getting Sterling’s name would jog her memory more. Maybe something in her mind would float to the surface and she’d write it in her journal, giving them more information to go on.
I lit a smoke. “I feel like I might need to be committed, and sort of warped right now, but I’m not at the breaking point yet.”
He raised his eyebrow at me. I was just as surprised I said it. I laughed.
“How’s Killer?” Man I missed my dog.
“He’s sad, he misses you.”