Page 60 of The Ghost and the Graveyard (Knight Games 1)
Unfortunately, I still didn't understand what any of this had to do with Rick, or why Logan was being so secretive about why he was in my attic. In fact, I was more confused than ever.
* * * * *
"Prudence was the nurse who delivered me. What does it mean, Logan?"
Logan sat across from me at the dining room table, watching me eat a late dinner he'd prepared. It was some sort of chicken dish that melted in my mouth and tasted of butter and fresh herbs. He'd insisted, and I couldn't refuse.
"I told you, I can't say," he muttered.
"Can you ask Prudence to talk to me?"
He hesitated, looked away. "Sure. I'll ask"
I rolled another delicious bite around in my mouth, amazed a ghost had prepared it. "Don't you remember anything about your life at all?" I asked.
"I see bits and pieces sometimes. I know things about eating. Like how to cook and what wine goes with what dessert. I think I liked motorcycles. Everything...all my memories are loose inside my head. I can't connect them logically."
Part of me could relate. Some days I didn't know who I was either. The arc of my life just seemed to happen with no driving force behind it, as if I were going along with a script rather than meeting it head on. Part of it I could blame on being in my early twenties, but the rest was all me.
"In an odd way, I can empathize," I said. "I may know my name, but sometimes I wonder if I will ever understand who I really am." The words surprised me as they poured out of my mouth. What was it about Logan that made me share the most intimate details of my life with him?
"I have a vague sense that I was lonely when I was alive. There's a hollowness at the center of me. I don't remember what my life was like, but something about me seems disconnected. It's hard to explain."
I rubbed a circle over my sternum with my palm. I could relate to that too. "Gary did that to me. Maybe you had a similar situation before you, um, died."
Logan's despondent eyes fixated on his interlaced fingers. "I wish I remembered."
"I wish I could forget."
Glowing green eyes met mine. Logan and I had a moment of connection, a communion of thoughts that conveyed a mutual desire to comfort, although no words were said. I reached forward to place my hand over his, and my flesh sank through him. A tingling pressure eased over my skin until my palm hit the table.
"Oh. Sorry." I retracted my fingers.
He shrugged awkwardly. The room fell silent. I ate the last bite off my plate.
"Would you like to play a game?" I asked.
"Sure," he said, brightening in his chair. "What did you have in mind?"
"There's a pool table downstairs. Eight ball?"
Logan nodded. "I remember. I remember how to play."
He followed me downstairs, and I racked the balls. In order to manipulate the pool cue, Logan had to disappear. I knew from the break I was in trouble. Whoever Logan had been in his life, he was damned good at pool.
"Do you have another date with the caretaker?" he asked out of the blue.
"Uh, yes. Tomorrow night."
He lined up another shot. "I've warned you Grateful-"
"I'm a big girl Logan. I can make my own decisions."
"Did anything, um, happen on your first date?"
My face was on fire. I placed my hand on my cheek. "That is none of your business."
"Why are you turning red? Oh...fuck..."
