Souls Estranged (The Souls Trilogy Book 2)

by Anne B. Cole

  She clung to the moment. He’d never leave her again because he would always be with her in her heart.

  His arms loosened their hold even as she hung on with all her might.

  His voice sounded in her ear. “I have to go—”

  “No, please,” she begged, but Sam released her and ran.

  Chapter 48

  Flashing Lights

  Gretta

  “Officer Scott needs help.” The urgency in Sam’s voice propelled Gretta forward.

  She quickly caught up to him as he knelt and checked for a pulse.

  “He’s alive.” Sam ripped open the bloodstained uniform shirt as Gretta ran for the cabin and retrieved a kitchen towel. He folded it over Ryan’s chest. Then sighed at her bound hands. “I promise to cut you free but right now you need to press down on this to stop the bleeding. I think the bullet went all the way through. Stay with him while I call for help.” He got to his feet after taking Ryan’s radio from his belt.

  Gretta pressed her palms against the towel on Ryan’s chest. The slight rush of a summer breeze swirled around her as Justin’s spirit shimmered next to Sam’s. Their mother’s ghost floated to Sam’s other side. With a smile and a slight shake of his head, Justin gently positioned his brother’s finger onto the radio’s switch.

  “Hello? There’s an officer down. Uh, two officers and a third man is dead . . . I don’t know. Where are we, Gretta?”

  Justin’s lips moved as if he was talking to her, but she couldn’t hear him. His mother nodded to her to respond.

  “1209 Ridge Road.” Her own voice sounded distant. Dizziness fogged her brain. She tried to shake it off by concentrating on Sam.

  Why do I hear Sam and not Justin if they’re both dead? How much longer will Sam be able to stay before he moves on to the afterlife?

  Sam repeated the address into the radio and waited impatiently for a response. Justin appeared to chuckle as he pointed to the button on the radio.

  “Sam, you have to let go of the button before they can talk to you.” Even as she spoke, she gaped at how Justin squeeze Sam’s shoulder in a show of brotherly affection. His mother’s spirit hovered next to Sam.

  Tears cascaded down Gretta’s cheeks. Sam would soon go with them to a good place, but the pain of losing him ripped through her body.

  He repeated the address into the radio and released the button. The officer on the other end barked, “We’ll be there in five minutes.”

  Without answering, Sam dropped the radio and ran inside the cabin. Seconds later he returned with the old quilt and a knife. He gently lifted Ryan to his side and examined the exit wound.

  “If we can control the bleeding, he might make it.” Sam sat back on his knees and sighed. His mother gave him a kiss on the cheek and tousled his hair. Justin clapped him on the back and winked at Gretta. He offered his arm to his mother. Together they walked to the woods. At the edge they paused to wave.

  A sudden surge of anguish overwhelmed her. “Can’t you go with them?” Her heart broke to think he had to leave. But he needed to move on.

  “What?” Sam pushed a lock of hair out of his eyes and looked at her. “Go with who?”

  “Justin and your mom.” Fresh tears blurred her eyes and trickled down her cheeks. “I want you to be happy and in a good place. Catch up with them. I’ll stay and make sure Ryan and Rachel are okay.” She pushed harder on Ryan’s wound and concentrated on applying direct pressure. She couldn’t bear to watch him leave.

  “Gretta.” Sam cut the binds on her hands and lifted her face to within inches of his own. His forehead crinkled with concern. “Justin and Mom are dead.”

  Warm thumbs wiped her tears away.

  “They just left. Go. If I know you’re with them, I’ll be okay,” she pleaded.

  “You saw Mom and Justin? Where?” Sam scanned the dark woods.

  “Over there.”

  He gazed in the direction she indicated.

  “Damn. I forgot—” Sam jumped to his feet and began to run. He approached the edge of the woods and yelled over his shoulder, “Help is coming. I can see the lights. Stay right there, Gretta. I love you.”

  “I love you, Sam.” Gretta sobbed as he disappeared within the trees.

  “Hey, Sis.” Ryan’s fingers touched her hand.

  “Don’t move. I have to stop the bleeding.” She wiped her tears against her shoulder.

  “Where’s the creep? Where’s Sam?” he demanded, trying to sit up.

  She held him firmly. “Dead. Hold still, you’re bleeding.” More tears fell as she looked in the direction Sam had run.

  Dead.

  An unmarked police car turned into the driveway, followed by an ambulance and two other cars from the sheriff’s department.

  Someone slipped a blanket around her shoulders. Ryan closed his eyes as medical technicians tended to him. Other officers stood beside Mark’s dead, bloody body. Horrified, Gretta began to shake uncontrollably.

  “Miss. Are you hurt?” one of the medics asked.

  “I’m fine, but Rachel is in the wine cellar. He kidnapped her and hid her there. The stairs leading to it are in the kitchen pantry. Hurry.” When she started to stand, everything around her began to spin.

  “Miss?” An officer caught her arm as her knees buckled. He guided her to the ground. Another medic, wearing blue rubber gloves, knelt beside her.

  “I’m fine. Please, just take care of Ryan and Rachel.”

  The medic wrapped a blood pressure cuff on her arm. After a minute he called out, “I need a gurney over here.”

  She pushed him away, attempting to get on her feet. She had to find Sam somehow. She’d lost the chance to say good-bye.

  More flashing lights raced up the hill. A policeman yelled from the cabin. “Bring an IV. I got a severely dehydrated woman in here.”

  “Rachel,” Gretta insisted. “Her name’s Rachel.”

  As the medic in front of her blurred into two medics, then four . . . Gretta had just a few seconds to wonder how red and blue flashing lights could spin into purple before everything went black.

  Chapter 49

  Dead or Alive?

  Gretta

  A familiar hand radiated warmth to Gretta’s palm.

  Am I dead?

  She wanted to be dead, but was afraid because she knew where she would be going. The curse on her wouldn’t allow her to go with Sam.

  Large, warm fingers laced within hers. Even though she couldn’t open her eyes, she squeezed the hand.

  “Over here,” A medic’s voice sounded. Several more hands gently lifted her. Afraid she’d be taken away, she gripped the hand tighter.

  “I’m coming with you,” Sam’s voice whispered close to her ear.

  Gretta struggled in vain to respond. A sharp prick poked into her arm. She heard him say something more, but could not understand the words.

  Maybe I’m dead. Maybe the curse was broken, and I’ll be able to move on with Sam instead of going to Purgatory-In-Tartarus.

  Memories of the purgatory, where cursed souls suffered, invaded her mind and made her tremble, remembering things she wished she didn’t.

  “She’s cold. Do you have another blanket?” Sam’s voice rang clear.

  She tightened her grip, petrified he would leave.

  A heavy blanket covered her. Fingers tucked it under her chin. Soft lips kissed her cheek.

  She desperately needed to see Sam one last time. His spirit couldn’t possibly stay much longer. He had to move on with his mother and Justin.

  “Gretta, can you hear me?” Sam’s voice.

  Summoning her strength, she willed her eyes open. The face she longed to see for weeks, and had missed with all her heart, appeared in front of her. She tried so hard
to talk, but could only manage more tears.

  “Shh. Don’t cry. You’re gonna be all right.” He stroked her wet cheeks. He appeared and sounded so real, so alive.

  Something tightened on her arm.

  “Pressure’s up a little,” a strange voice announced.

  Sam gently lifted her hand and pressed a kiss on her fingertips.

  “Did . . . you . . . find them?” It took every ounce of energy for her to speak.

  “I took the officers to Al, the cop I clobbered in the woods. He’s pretty mad, but physically okay. The paramedics said Ryan lost a lot of blood. Rachel is riding with him in the other ambulance.” Sam glanced at the medic who nodded in agreement.

  “No. Justin and your mom. You have to go with them. Find them.” As she spoke the words, his hand tightened around hers and she saw him exchange a glance with the medic.

  “Gretta incurred a severe concussion two months ago.” His concerned gaze returned to her as he stroked a wisp of hair off her forehead. “Did he hit you?”

  “I already checked for head injuries.” The medic took a penlight out and flashed it in her face. “What day is it, Gretta?”

  “What? You can hear him, too?” she questioned in awe.

  “What day of the week is it?” This time the medic asked slowly and deliberately as he examined the back of her head with gentle fingers.

  She looked from him to Sam and back.

  “You can see Sam?” Her voice lowered to a thread of sound.

  “Of course I can see him. Let’s go with an easier question, who is the President?” The medic continued as if speaking to a preschooler.

  Gretta ignored him and faced Sam.

  “You were shot, twice. I saw you. You’re—”

  “Right here and never, ever going to let you out of my sight again.” A sly grin spread across his face.

  “But you’re dead.” Her heart skipped.

  He squeezed her hand, holding it up to her face. “Can you feel this?”

  Gretta suddenly recalled early June, after the tree fell on them at the park. He had asked her the same exact question. Time had stood still and they had stepped away from their bodies.

  “Are we both dead?”

  “I don’t think we’re dead.” He looked at the medic, who smiled in confirmation.

  “If you’re not dead—”

  “I’m alive.” Sam’s grin widened.

  “Try to relax, Gretta. Your heart’s racing.” The medic injected something into her arm. Within seconds she became very sleepy.

  “I saw him shoot you. You went down,” Gretta choked.

  “I wore Justin’s bulletproof vest. The impact knocked me out for a bit.” He raised his t-shirt, revealing two ugly red welts.

  “I saw Justin and your mom beside you. They’re dead. I thought you were, too.”

  He wiped away more of her tears.

  She clutched his strong fingers. “They were here, Sam. I saw them.”

  “I believe you.” His hand tightened around hers.

  “You didn’t see them?” Gretta searched for honesty.

  “No, but I know they were with me.” He lowered his face next to hers. “I didn’t have the confidence or the aim to shoot. Justin helped me, didn’t he?”

  Gretta slowly nodded her head.

  He continued, softer than a whisper, “And the radio. Justin helped me press the right buttons.”

  She nodded again, increasingly exhausted.

  “And Mom, she tousled my hair. She—” His voice broke.

  “You’re really alive?” she asked in wonder.

  It seemed impossible for her to stay awake. The last thing she saw was Sam taking a deep breath and looking at the medic for confirmation. The medic’s voice floated inside of her head.

  “Yes, Sam. You’re alive. There’s a needle mark on her arm. She’s been drugged. It’s probably why she thinks she saw ghosts. Tell me about her concussion.”

  Chapter 50

  One More Day

  Gretta

  “Take care of yourself, Ryan. Rachel, too . . . I’m good . . . No, Sam is taking me back to the cabin to gather my things. We’re going home. Concentrate on healing and don’t worry about me . . . I love you, too, bro.” Gretta swallowed hard and ended the call. It was the first time she had ever lied to Ryan. Her plans didn’t include going home.

  Sam eased his phone from her white knuckled hands. His focus left the road and fixed upon her for a moment, then he dropped the phone in the console between the bucket seats of his truck. Eyes back on the road, he cupped her clenched fingers with a gentle palm.

  “We can go back and visit him after we pick up your things at the cabin,” he suggested.

  “No.” She had missed Sam’s voice, and hearing it broke her heart even more.

  “It’s not your fault.” Sam concentrated on driving, but his hand offered comfort.

  “It is my fault. Dad, Grandma, and Justin are dead. You, Tony, Ryan, Rachel. Anyone I love or care about gets hurt or dies. I’m cursed.” All her frustration spilled out.

  Sam’s silent reaction confirmed his knowledge of the curse and verified her memories. She stared out the windshield at the winding road leading to the cabin.

  “Do you care for me, or love me, Gretta?”

  Her heart nearly stopped. She recalled having the same conversation during their time travels. He remembers the time we spent within Lorenzo and Anya.

  “Neither.” She refused to lie to his face, so she stared out the window.

  “I love you, and I’m not afraid of you or the curse,” Sam declared.

  Gretta heard his voice catch. The pain of losing his brother remained fresh.

  “You should be.” She pulled her hand away.

  Sam turned the truck into the cabin’s driveway.

  His hand touched the back of her ponytail. Gretta couldn’t help but lean into his touch. Sunbeams peeked through the trees. They had been up all night being interviewed by the police and waiting for Ryan to get out of surgery. This morning when they received word he had stabilized, she insisted on leaving, refusing to endanger her friends any longer.

  Police tape fluttered against the cabin. Mark’s threats and the sound of gunfire repeated through her mind.

  Sam parked the truck and pulled her into an embrace. “How much do you remember?” he whispered.

  Gretta stared into the eyes of the only man she had ever loved, ever would love. Knowing she had to keep him safe, she recited the painful truth. “My ring is cursed. We traveled into the past and you left me in Milos. I was scared and alone, but I learned how to manage without you. The curse killed my dad and Justin. Last night, you——I thought you were dead. Anyone I care about is in danger.”

  Sam didn’t add anything, didn’t argue, but he didn’t let go.

  Gretta allowed herself to be held. It felt so right, so safe, and at the same time so terribly dangerous. She released him and ran from the truck to the cabin. A uniformed deputy stepped into her path.

  “Crime scene, Miss.”

  “My things are in there. I need my clothes, my laptop, I—” Behind him she spotted the ground where Ryan had been shot. Blood remained puddled on the hard packed dirt. Her gaze darted to the porch where Mark Hanson’s blood had spattered. Rendered mute by panic, she stood trembling as Sam made introductions and shook the officer’s hand.

  “Miss Dobbs?” The detective in charge of the investigation had approached. “You’ll be able to collect your things in a day or two.”

  She opened her mouth to protest when Sam suddenly strode to the rose garden. He bent down, holding his hand out to a white and gray ball of fur.

  “Emeye,” Gretta cried and rushed to Sam’s side. Her little cat hissed at his
touch. He pulled back and held her away from her beloved pet. “She’s hurt, Sam. Her ears are bleeding. She must have hit her head last night when he threw her to the ground.”

  “You have to go, Roxana,” Sam pleaded.

  Emeye shuddered.

  “I promise. Please, leave the cat now.” Sam’s voice broke as the little cat stilled. “Roxana?”

  “Emeye,” Gretta cried.

  “I’m sorry, she’s gone.” Sam took in a shaky breath.

  The final piece of the memory puzzle fell into place.

  Her ancestor, Roxana, had come to them as a small gray and white cat with big green eyes too large for its tiny body. Emerald eyes. Emeye.

  “Why didn’t I remember this before?” Her voice hitched in realization. “Roxana entwined herself within Emeye.”

  Sam nodded and clutched Gretta’s hand. “Roxana had been blocking your memories to protect you. She told us she didn’t know what would happen to our spirits if we were with Anya or Lorenzo when they died.”

  “Did Roxana’s soul leave Emeye before—?” She abandoned her fight against tears.

  “I don’t know.” Sam gently picked up the cat’s lifeless body. “Did you hear Roxana speaking to me before Emeye passed?”

  “No.” Her heart ached as she stroked the fur of her little cat.

  Dead.

  “She said Katarina would help us. Roxana said—she said she loved you.” Sam sniffed.

  “Anyone who loves me is in danger.” Gretta studied her sneakers, waiting for Sam’s rebuttal.