“My name is Kari, Kari Briggs.” She rarely let people touch her and only put out her hand to shake his when he did. As soon as he touched her, she knew she’d made a mistake. It was one thing for him to touch her arms when he’d been helping her, but this was direct contact, which always made her feel like she had taken on a part of the person. Hand to hand was much stronger than anything else. But instead of commenting on the connection, he introduced her to the men with him.
“My name is Ray Hancock. This is Drew Mullins, Hugh McGuire, and Nick Stark. The two over there are Landon Logan and Mitch Riley. And the loner over there is Steele Bennett. He’s the quiet, brooding type.” At his wink she looked at the man in the far corner. He didn’t look like a type at all, but one that made his own rules. And he was fucking huge too. “Well, Kari Briggs, would you like to know about your ghost? I think he’s trying to tell you something.”
“I don’t want to know unless it’s the owner of this bar. And he’d better have a fucking good reason for being dead.” She slapped her hand over her mouth as soon as the words cleared her lips. The man only nodded and took a long drink of his beer before staring at her. “It’s Mr. Craft, isn’t it? Eric Craft?”
“He’s saying it’s him and that he has to talk to you. He’s also telling you how sorry he is that he’s left you with this mess.” Kari felt her knees wobble, and she slid to the floor. No one came to help her, for which she was profoundly happy. But she could still see Ray sitting there with the other men. “When you catch your breath, I’ll let you know what he wants.”
“I’m going to be homeless, without any money, and he’s wanting to tell me how sorry he is?” Kari buried her head on her knees and cried. It had been a hell of a day, and now this. As she sat there sobbing into her knees, she heard the men talking softly but didn’t pay attention to what was being said. When she stood up, they all looked at her with pity in their eyes. “I’m not going to fall apart. I’ve had me a good cry. Thank you for that, but I’m all right now.”
She wasn’t and she was reasonably sure they all knew it. As Ray took another drink of his beer, she walked around the bar and locked the door. She was officially done working for nothing. And for a dead man. Taking a stool with her, she put it near the men and before sitting down, poured herself a glass. Yes, a glass of bourbon. She was going out with a bang.
“What happened to him?” Ray stared at her for several seconds before he threw back his head and laughed. She had no idea what she’d expected, but this wasn’t it. “Are you always this weird?”
The guy to his left, Drew, laughed and said he was worse. The other men agreed. She didn’t care what they were, but she wanted answers, and if this was the only way she was going to get them, then fine by her.
“He was…he had a heart attack while having some fun.” She asked him if he was fucking someone and he said yes. “I take it you like your information straight from the hip, is that right?”
“Yeah, I guess I do. So there’s nothing here to bail me out of this mess. And more importantly, how the hell am I going to get paid? Or the people that he owes money too? He took it all when he left me three months ago.” Ray looked behind the bar, but she didn’t. If he was talking to Eric, she didn’t want to know. “I’ve no money because my last check bounced, twice, and the bank won’t take it again. I have no car that will even get me much more than a few miles, and I’m homeless as of right now. Without a job, even if I had the money, I’m never going to find a place to live without a job reference. I’m so fucked right now.”
“He said to tell you he’s sorry. But you can have the money in the cash drawer if that helps.” Kari had no idea why, but she’d bet her bottom dollar Eric had not said anything even close to that. The man was a prick most of the time and an asshole the rest of the time. But instead of arguing about it, she went back behind the bar and opened the drawer. There was just over five hundred dollars in it, and she took it all. Even the change she stuffed into a bank bag. Then she went to the business side of the bar to finish her drink, but she wanted to be alone to do so. Going to the door again, she held it open for them.
“Bar’s closed, guys.” The men stood up almost as if she’d orchestrated it and made their way to the door. Mr. Lonely was the last to stand up, and she stood there waiting for him while the others stood in the parking lot. As soon as he was close enough for her to see, she felt her breath catch. Christ, he was beautiful.
But he was also haunting. The closer he got to her, the more anguish and sorrow she could see in his eyes, in his entire body. As he came to stand beside her, she looked up at him when he looked down, and her cat moved along her skin. Before she could think not to touch, her fingers were curling into his shirt. Staring at him, she knew something very strange was happening.