So Fell The Sparrow

by Katie Jennings

  Grace hovered in stunned silence, incapable of breathing. Her eyes were transfixed on the stairs, where she had just seen a child disappear into thin air. Her mind reeled and she thought she should feel sick, and yet she didn’t.

  “Grace?” Ian reached down and gently pried her fingers from the railing. “Are you all right?”

  “She just saw Sally.” Jackie beamed from downstairs, clapping her hands together happily.

  Ian reached out for Grace’s chin and tilted her face, coaxing her eyes to meet his. When they did, he saw the indescribable awe she felt. “Say something, Doc. Or did seeing a ghost make you mute? It’s probably for the best. You talk too much, anyway.”

  A hysterical laugh burst from her lips and snapped her out of her reverie. The laugh quickly turned into a sob and she had to cover her face with her hands as she broke down and wept.

  “Whoa, whoa. I was only joking.” Ian pulled her into his arms, startled by her reaction. He shot a worried look at Jackie and Alex. They both eyed him curiously. “Let’s get you back to bed.”

  “No.” She battled the hysteria as he helped her to her feet. Without hesitation, he lifted her into his arms and hauled her back to her bedroom, tossing her onto the bed.

  She glared at him through blotchy, angry eyes. “I said I don’t want to go to bed.”

  “Yeah, and you’re also hysterical,” he countered, sitting down on the side of the bed and patting her leg affectionately. “You need a few moments to calm down and come to terms with what just happened. What better place to do that than in a bed?”

  “Well, if you’d just give me that moment, maybe I’ll calm down.” She batted his hand away and fell back against the pillows with a heavy sigh, her mind a whirlwind of emotion. She shut her eyes and focused on breathing, knowing that she had to settle down if she was to even try and revisit what had just occurred on the stairwell.

  After a few moments of silence, she opened her eyes and stared at Ian. “I just saw a ghost. Again.”

  “Full-bodied apparition,” Ian corrected. “The only time I’ve seen one that up close and personal was my grandfather.”

  Grace nodded, remembering his story. “Did it scare you?”

  “Damn right it did.”

  She smiled. “I thought you weren’t scared of anything, tough guy?”

  He reached out and tweaked her nose, his face softening. “It gets easier, but the fear never really goes away.”

  She sat up, not wanting to lay in bed like an invalid. She was perfectly fine. “So, good job, Ghostbuster. You finally got rid of every last ghost.”

  His arm draped over her shoulders as he pulled her in close. He pressed his lips to the top of her head, knowing she hid her grief behind wisecracks and humor. “It’s okay to admit you’ll miss her. In a way, you loved her. And she loved you.”

  “She’s dead.”

  “She was always dead. That didn’t stop you before.”

  Grace let out a long, uneasy breath, knowing he was right. “I just don’t know what to do with myself now. It’s over. There’s nothing keeping me in the house anymore.”

  Ian tensed. He didn’t know what to say to her.

  She continued, her eyes glassy as she stared into space. “I didn’t realize how unprepared I was for this moment. Now it’s here and I feel even more lost than before.”

  “Just do whatever you think will make you happy,” he said lamely, knowing it was cookie cutter advice. His heart told him to seize the moment and tell her how he felt, offer her the chance to change her life and come on the road with him.

  But his pride told him he would only be stung by her inevitable rejection. She was a doctor, for God’s sake. She had a life to get back to. Who was he to keep her from it?

  Silently, he got to his feet and closed her bedroom door. When he walked back to the bed, his eyes met hers with a fierce intensity she wasn’t expecting. He looked like some brooding, wild wolf, torn between slaughter and compassion for the prey he hunted. It made her blood heat and her pulse race despite the gloom dragging down her heart.

  Here was a distraction. Here was lust, maybe love, but at least something tangible she could find release in. His eyes spoke the request he didn’t utter, his movements beckoned the permission she didn’t have to give. She was his, and would be for as long as he’d have her. There was no questioning it.

  “Ian.” Her arms wound around his neck as he pushed her against the bed, claiming her mouth with his. A moan echoed in her throat as his hands shoved aside the nightgown she wore and raced over the tender skin beneath. Aching for him, she lifted off his shirt and raked her nails down his back. Her teeth nipped at his lower lip as she unbuttoned his jeans.

  He pressed against her impatiently, unwilling to admit to himself that he could lose her. That he was days, hours, minutes away from having to say goodbye.

  Damnit, it hurt. He grunted her name and plunged himself into her, lost in everything she was. The scent of her drove him mad and he knew it always would. He would never forget the taste of her lips, the feel of her skin, the lilt of her laugh. It would plague him for the rest of his life.

  Her hands cradled his face, her forehead touching his as her eyes fluttered closed. He could feel her breath mixing with his own, could hear her voice sighing his name. His anger over their situation made his movements fierce, while the love that plagued him brought out a tenderness he’d never known. He kissed her, impossibly drawn in by whatever spell she wove. By whatever twist of fate rendered him helpless to her.

  “Don’t leave me,” she whispered the words, but he heard them loud and clear. He rode on them and wished she truly meant it. Surely, once she had a chance to think, she would take them back.

  “You’re already gone.” He drove into her one last time, their eyes meeting for a long, crushing moment. He saw the flush of pleasure, the shock of pain, and the brilliance of her beauty all at once. The sight of it staggered him.

  Her haunted gray eyes watched him, her lips parted as she fought to catch her breath. Dark strands of her bangs clung to her forehead, and he resisted the urge to brush them aside. Instead, he rolled off her and covered his face with his hands.

  Grace stared at the ceiling, unable to move. His words rang out like an alarm in her mind, blaringly loud and obvious. It was true, then. He didn’t want it to continue. He wanted her to go. Pain seared through her heart, but she refused to cry. She’d be damned if he knew she didn’t agree one-hundred percent with his logic. If he could be the practical, mature adult in this scenario, then so could she.

  Forcing a smile on her face, she rolled over to run her hand down his arm. “I’ve enjoyed this, Ian. I have. I’ll miss you when you go.”

  She got to her feet and slipped into her robe. She stepped out to take a shower, abandoning him to his dark, self-loathing thoughts.

  * * *

  After her shower, she made her way downstairs. Ian was in the kitchen making lunch. She ignored him and walked over to what remained of the antique furniture she had once pulled from the bowels of the basement.

  She’d done her best to clean up the grandfather clock, but there hadn’t been much time the day before. Most of the splintered wood and broken glass had been swept into a pile, while the larger pieces still laid on the floor. She stared down at them sadly, her heart broken. It was her favorite piece.

  She turned to look at the rest of the furniture, the tattered love seat and the crumbling coffee table. The lamps were weathered almost beyond recognition, the skeletons of the lamp shades visible with only scraps of fabric left to cloak them.

  There was no way she could hold on to the furniture any longer. Even though she had yet to decide if she was staying in the house permanently, she knew she couldn’t leave the pieces there. They represented something dark and sinister that no longer resided in the house. As far as she was concerned, it could all burn.

  She placed a quick call to Johnny Hayes and requested his help hauling the furniture to the dump. He sounded
surprised to hear it, considering the furniture had looked brand new when he helped bring it up from the basement several weeks earlier.

  Grace assumed he thought she was crazy. Not that it mattered, though. As long as he showed up with a couple of guys and a truck to take it all away, she would be content.

  She also called up the local sheriff’s department, informing them of the hundred-year-old bones in her basement. She needed them to come and excavate the body properly and determine the cause of death. They were irritated that she’d already partially dug up the bones, but she had an excuse ready. She told them she was planning on remodeling the basement and, in the process, discovered the bones.

  After she hung up the phone, she wandered back into the kitchen. Ian set down two plates on the dining table, filled with turkey sandwiches and chips. He nodded to her and took a seat.

  She chewed on her tongue, wondering if this was some sort of peace offering. She sat across from him warily. “Thanks.”

  “Welcome.” He bit into his sandwich, watching her. He tried to figure out her angle, her motive, as she continued to play off her anger with him. Clearly, she was upset. It would take a blind man not to see it. But she only half-smiled at him and avoided eye contact, falling back on a passive-aggressiveness that grated at his insides. “Are you going to get new furniture?”

  “I don’t know yet.” Grace crunched into a chip, her eyes drifting to the antiques. “I guess once I decide if I’m staying here or not, I’ll know what to do.”

  He hesitated, his sandwich halfway to his mouth. “I thought you wanted to go back to Chicago?”

  She sighed. “I do. Sort of. I don’t know, I’m still such a mess.”

  “What about your job?”

  Her shoulders lifted and fell. “They need me to come back. I know they do.”

  “Then you should go.”

  Their eyes met. For some reason, hearing it from him made it more real than before. She caught herself before the pain hit, knowing it was stupid. “Not like it matters to you, anyway. I’m sure you’re excited to get the hell out of this place and find other ghosts to hunt.”

  Anger flashed in his eyes, and he fought to keep his hands steady. “Not like it matters to you, right?”

  She rolled her eyes and got to her feet, taking her empty plate with her. “True. Thanks for the sandwich.”

  He watched her drop the plate in the sink and escape upstairs. All he could think was that he couldn’t leave her like this. He couldn’t let this argument be the last they ever had.

  If he was going to have to let her go, it had to be on good terms.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Jackie watched Alex load all his equipment into the back of the van. She helped carry out a few duffle bags from the hotel room, the last of his and Ian’s belongings.

  She’d retrieved her own suitcase and clothes from Dominic’s house earlier that day and brought her belongings and Gatsby over to the hotel. She’d also arranged to have her Jeep shipped to Seattle so she could join Ian and Alex on the cross-country drive.

  Alex was chipper and in good spirits, and she fought back the instinct to feel trapped. She loved him; that she knew for certain. There was no reason to assume he would smother her spirit or hold her back from the things she loved. He knew her terms and had agreed to them.

  If she wanted, needed, to go, then he would let her. Then again, it was becoming harder to think of anyplace she would want to go without him by her side. In fact, soon she wanted to take him down to New Orleans to see the fireflies and experience the wealth of ancient spirits that roamed there. It was a magnificent place for a ghost hunter.

  She only wished Grace would join them, as impossible as she knew it was. Of course, fate had a funny way of fulfilling the unexpected. She had a feeling that Grace’s role in her life had not yet come to an end.

  With a smile, she lifted Gatsby into her arms and turned to Alex after he shut the van doors. She kissed his cheek, and he ran his hand over Gatsby’s fur.

  “You ready to go?” he asked, slipping on his sunglasses with a crooked grin.

  She tilted her head to the side. “Where is our next adventure taking us, darling?”

  “Nevada, I think. I should probably call my sister,” he added as an afterthought, scratching his chin. “We’ll figure it out once we grab Ian.”

  “He’s saying goodbye to Grace.” Jackie pouted before climbing into the passenger seat of the van, Gatsby nestled comfortably in her arms.

  Alex frowned, passing a hand through his hair. “Damn.”

  He had nothing else to say as he hopped into the driver’s seat and drove the short distance to the Sparrow House. Above them, storm clouds moved in from the sea, roiling with impending thunder.

  Jackie stared up at them, worry in her eyes. She said a silent prayer and reached for her cross necklace, grasping it tightly in her fingers.

  “Man, where did that storm come from?” Alex wondered aloud as he pulled up to the house, eyeing the clouds through the windshield.

  “A very sad place.” Jackie released a heavy sigh and pushed open the door.

  Alex said nothing as he joined her, her words troubling him.

  They walked up the pathway to the front door just as the first drops of rain began to fall. Alex knocked, feeling uneasy. Something bad was in the air, though he couldn’t put his finger on what it was.

  The door opened, revealing Grace. She attempted a smile, but her mind was clearly on other things. “Hey. Come in.”

  They followed her inside and found Ian packing up the rest of the camera equipment in the living room. He barely spared them a glance and a dispassionate grunt as he continued to meticulously wind up cords and strap down expensive camera gear in their protective cases.

  “Looks like a bad storm’s coming,” Grace commented, making her way to the wide windows of the living room, her arms crossed. “You guys be careful on the road.”

  “Yeah. We will.” Alex hated the tension in the air, caused by two of the most stubborn people he’d ever known. He considered jumping in and forcing the two of them to make a compromise, but before he could, he felt Jackie’s hand on his arm. He looked down at her, and saw her shake her head slightly.

  He was about to ask her why, but Ian cut him off. “Help me take the last of these bags out to the van.”

  Alex grabbed two of the bags and went outside with Ian. To his dismay, Ian left no room for questions or conversation. He was as closed off as any man faced with such a situation could be. It only confirmed how difficult this was on him and Alex had to wonder why Ian wasn’t fighting for Grace. Why he wasn’t even trying.

  He had just given up.

  Inside, Jackie ran into the same brick wall as Alex had with Ian. Grace had built an iron fortress around herself with no hope of entry. There would be no getting through to her. Though Jackie knew she still had to try.

  When Alex and Ian came back into the living room, Grace turned and faced them, forcing a smile. “Well, I guess this is goodbye.” She clutched her hands together awkwardly, not sure what to do.

  Jackie made it easier when she wrapped Grace in a tight hug. “This is not goodbye. Our paths will cross again.”

  Grace sniffed, irritated that she was so emotional. She didn’t want to cry. “I hope so. I’ll miss you.”

  Jackie pulled back and placed her hands on either side of Grace’s face, a kind smile softening her expression. “Love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation, darling.”

  Grace’s eyebrows drew together as Jackie backed away and Alex replaced her. He dragged her into a tight hug. “Bye, Grace.” He patted her shoulder as he drew back, a goofy smile lighting his eyes. “You know where to reach us if you ever need anything. I’ll show up on your doorstep with my Proton Pack, ready to rumble.”

  She laughed, honestly grateful for him and his easy humor. She punched him playfully in the arm, one eyebrow cocked. “Like I’d call anyone else.”

  Alex chuckled, then sh
ot a look over his shoulder at Ian. One silent nod from his friend and he knew it was time to go.

  “C’mon, Jackie.” He wrapped his arm around Jackie’s shoulders and waved goodbye to Grace one last time. The two of them disappeared out the front door and into the rain.

  Grace watched them go, desperately wishing this moment hadn’t come. She wasn’t ready for it. She faced Ian and tried to stay strong. “I want to thank you for everything. You saved this place. All three of you did.”

  He nodded, his eyes intent on hers. “We got some great evidence.”

  A small smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “I look forward to seeing you on television someday, racing around in the dark chasing after ghosts. You’ll make all the girls swoon. Then again, you probably already do that.”

  He snorted, his jaw tightening as he stepped closer to her. His hands came up to frame her face and she placed her own over his wrists.

  “You’re an incredible woman, Doc. Don’t let some asshole make you forget that.” He pressed a tender kiss to her forehead, his eyes closing briefly as he savored her scent one last time.

  Her knees weakened as tears sprang hot into her eyes. “You’ve seen me at my worst and you still think that?”

  “Yes.” His mouth found hers, hopelessly, helplessly.

  A sharp pain stabbed into her heart as she kissed him, knowing it was over. Never had it hurt this much. When he broke the kiss, she managed a weak laugh. “Too bad I can’t travel the country with you. Hitch a ride in the ghost mobile, see the sights.”

  “Why not?” He asked the question before he thought about it, before he realized the weight behind the words. Her reaction was as he expected. She laughed it off as though it were ludicrous. And really, maybe it was.

  “Please. Can you really see me living out of a van and running around with that little recorder thing to catch EPVs or whatever you call them?”

  “EVPs,” he corrected, passing a hand through his hair. “And no, I guess I can’t.”

  “So really, this is the best thing for both of us.” She managed a smile and held out her hand. “It’s been fun. I mean it. I hope you’ll call me sometime and let me know how you’re doing.”