33. Ghost

Chapter 33

Ghost

L eo wasn't afraid of death. He wasn't scared of what came next. He believed that once this life ended, there was an after. He wore his rosary like a tattoo, a permanent display of his belief in something higher, something bigger, something otherworldly.

For his sake, I hope he was correct.

I hope he's dipping his toes into the soft clouds of Heaven.

My father also believed in God, but he was afraid of death. I think he knew where he was going to spend all of eternity. Dad always loved warm climates. I'm sure he feels right at home.

Me? I'm still figuring it out.

Maybe I'll live in limbo forever.

"Cami." Zoey cranes her neck, one foot inside the church door. "Come on."

"I don't know..." I bite my lip, side-eyeing Agent Conrad. Unease stirs in my chest. "Maybe we should just head to the Bureau and get this over with. "

"There's no rush," Agent Conrad states, checking his watch as he stands beside the government-issued black SUV, the chariot that will take me to my fate. "We're not expected for another hour." He nods toward the ornate oak doors. "You ladies take your time. I'll be out here."

"Cami," Zoey says, urging me to come inside but I'm hesitant. Nervous. "Please."

My life has been a crimson sea. A vast ocean of sunken ships and forgotten bodies.

Blood spilled. Lives taken. Souls departed.

Some by my hand.

Others by my word.

Two by my heart.

"I don't think I belong in a church," I mutter, shoving my hands into my pockets as I shake my head. "What if I..." I swallow. "What if I spontaneously combust or something?"

Zoey blinks. "It's a church, Cami, not some radioactive lab." She sighs, holding out her hand, inviting me to follow her. "Please? For Leo?"

I inhale, hoping that whoever or whatever rules apply, the nebula doesn't smite me upon entry.

"Fine," I grumble, lacing my fingers through Zoey's as her pleading gaze damn near breaks my heart. "For Leo."

"We're just going to light a candle," Zoey says, leading us toward the altar rails, dozens upon dozens of burning votive candles dancing against the shadowed walls. She stops in front of a table and picks up a match, passing it to me. "Here?—"

I lick my lips anxiously. "Now what? "

"Light it," she says, grabbing a match of her own and sparking the head with a lit candle. She watches me closely, patiently, as I attempt to catch the flame. "Careful."

"Ow," I wince, the heat from the fire burning my skin. "Fuck, that hurt."

"Language," Zoey whispers, eyes wide. She nods to a row of unlit candles. "Say a prayer, Cami. Something simple is fine."

"A prayer?" I blink at her. "Out loud?"

"No," she whispers, closing her eyes as she sucks in a deep breath. "In your head is fine."

"Okay..." I stare at the flickering flames, mesmerized by the vibrant colors and their hypnotizing effect.

Leo? Can you hear me? If you can hear me, say boo .

I cringe. Okay, let's try this again.

Leo, I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I didn't believe you. I'm sorry that I ignored you for five years. I'm sorry I didn't give you enough time. Enough attention.

I swallow.

I knew you loved me. I think I always knew. I'm so sorry, Leo. You didn't deserve this. You deserved a long life. You deserved to get married and have kids and feel loved. I... I hope you're okay, Leo. I hope...wherever you are, you feel loved. Because I do love you, Leo. I never hated you... I think if anything, I loved you to the point it hurt. We both did, I think. I hope your soul... I hope it's resting easy. That you're at peace. That you're comfortable. Free even .

"Cami," Zoey whispers, and I open my eyes. She nods to my hand. "You're going to burn through the match."

"Oh," I hum, lighting the candle next to Zoey's. I flick my wrist, putting out the match. I suck in the scent of sulfur, smiling at the humming flame. "Bye, Leo."

"Can we sit for a little bit?" Zoey asks, motioning toward the empty pews. "I just want..." She hitches a shoulder. "I just want a minute before everything changes."

And everything will change.

New city. New name. New life.

Maybe a minute is just what we need.

Sixty more seconds of everything we've ever known.

"Sure," I swallow, following Zoella down the aisle and taking a seat beside her. I steal a glance at Zoey. She hasn't cried since the cemetery. It's been seven days. No tears. Is that normal? Did I break her? Is she finally broken? "Zoey?"

"Yeah?" She faces me with no hint of fear or anger or sadness in her eyes. They're clear. Crisp. Almost bright. "What?"

"Are you... Are you okay?" I ask, shifting my weight toward her. "I mean, how are you… How are you feeling?"

"My brother's dead, Cami," she whispers, shrugging. "I'm still processing it but... I think I'm okay. I feel fine, I guess."

I narrow my speculative eyes at her. "Saying you're okay and being okay are two different things, Zoey."

She smiles at me. "I know that, Cami. Really, I feel fine." She glances around the church, her shoulders relaxing. "It's strange but I can feel him around me." She shakes her head, sighing with joy. "This past week, I've just never... I've never felt alone."

"Do you think he's here? That he's...with us?"

"Yeah," she says, nodding. "I think he's here. I don't think he'll be here forever though, maybe just for a few more days. He's going to have to leave us at some point, right?" She lets out a sweet giggle. "I remember when I was like five or something, I told Leo he wasn't allowed to ever die because I was scared of ghosts." She pauses, smiling at me as she asks, "Do you know what he said?"

I reply instantly as if I'm fed the answer. "I don't have to be your ghost. I can be your angel instead."

"Exactly," Zoey frowns. "How did you know that?"

"He, uh… He said that to me once," I murmur, flicking my nails as guilt washes over me. "He..."

"Cami." Zoella covers my shaking hands with hers as she meets my sunken eyes. "Stop it, okay?" She sucks in a long breath. "This wasn't your fault, okay? There's nothing you could've done. Leo made his choice. It was his to make." She nods, encouraging me to believe her. "And honestly, I think he'd do it again."

Tears well up in my eyes as I squeeze Zoey's cold hands. "I..." Licking my lips, I swallow. "Thank you, Zoey. I don't know what I did to deserve someone like you in my life."

"You're my sister, Cami," Zoey whispers. "Always have been, always will be."

My jaw locks. "I haven't been very good to you, Zoe. I haven't..."

"Yes, you have," she says, wrapping her arms around me and pulling me into a warm, long embrace. "Yes, you have." I hug her, squeezing her tiny body as I rub her back. "I'll never leave you, Cami, okay? And you? I know you'll never leave me. "

"Never say never," I whisper into the crook of her neck. "But I'll try."

"We should go," Zoey says, pulling away as she glances toward the exit. She pauses, lips twisting with contemplation before she adds, "Are you going to be okay seeing him? Have you talked since..."

"No," I say, my heart suddenly heavy with sand. "I've, um... I've kind of been ignoring his calls."

"Why?" Zoey asks as we stand up. "It's over now, Cami. You guys can?—"

"But we can't, Zoe," I say in a low murmur. "He shot my father. He... He killed him. That changes everything. It changes everything."

The boardroom in the New York FBI field office is silent as Agent Conrad escorts me and Zoey inside. Pamela Scott, Hardeep Deol, Agent Cowry, and Agent Fitzgerald stare at us as we take a seat around the oval table. I glance at the empty chair beside Cowry, my pulse quickening with anticipation.

"Agent Malcolm will be joining us…" Cowry trails off, spinning toward the sliding glass doors. My heartbeat accelerates to a terrifying speed as Hayden steps inside the room. "Excellent. We're all here."

"Apologies," Hayden states, scanning the room. His gaze stops on me for a second too long, and I catch the worry in his eyes. He sits down, placing several folders on the table as he looks at Pamela. "Please begin."

"Right," Pamela clears her throat, opening a folder as she addresses Zoey and me. "Miss Bianco, Miss Di Rossi, I'd like to first start off by extending my deepest condolences for the loss of Leonardo Di Rossi." She places a pen between her fingers, twirling it as she looks at Zoey, "The Bureau will provide any sort of counseling needed to?—"

"That won't be necessary," Zoey says with a tight-lipped smile. "I'm fine, Mrs. Scott, but thank you."

"Okay," she hums, glancing over at Hardeep. "Mr. Deol?"

Hardeep clears his throat. Jesus, are they all sick or something? A phlegm pandemic? "Miss Bianco," he begins. "In light of recent events—" his gaze flicks to Hayden momentarily, "—we believe that it is imperative to ensure your safety as our office prepares for trial. Both Wei Zhao and Malik Alba have been denied bail, however several members of Angeli Della Morte have been released pending trial.” He looks between Zoella and me. "I know we've discussed placing the two of you together in witness protection, however the Marshals Service strongly recommends a temporary separation. We've discussed this with Agent Cowry, and we might have a solution that would?—"

"No," Zoella states with an edge. "I'm not leaving Camilla."

"Let him finish, Zoe," I whisper.

"This is not what we agreed on." Zoey sinks back into her seat, crossing her arms as she glowers at the state lawyers. "But fine, go on."

Hardeep looks at Agent Cowry. "Perhaps you'd like to..."

"Of course," Cowry states, placing his forearms on the table and leaning forward. "Miss Di Rossi, we understand that you wish to remain with Miss Bianco, however after talking to Agent Malcolm…" I whip my head toward Hayden, narrowing my eyes at him. He remains passive, stoic, and professional as he gives me a subtle nod. What did he do? "We believe that the FBI would benefit from someone with your skills and aptitude."

Zoey's forehead creases as she says, "My skills?"

"Miss Di Rossi." Agent Cowry quirks up a knowing brow. "Did you or did not manage to bypass the FBI's sophisticated firewall and tap into our internal systems?"

"I, uh?—"

"Those firewalls are impenetrable, Miss Di Rossi," Cowry muses. "Or at least, they're supposed to be."

"Well," Zoey hums, chewing on her bottom lip. "Nothing's really ever impenetrable, Agent Cowry." She presses her lips into a sheepish smile and shrugs. "And definitely not your system." She pauses as Cowry's expression tightens. "Sorry."

"Yes, we've surmised as much," he states. "Which is why we'd like to recruit you."

Zoey blinks. "Recruit me?"

I can't conceal my grin as I find Hayden's brilliantly conniving eyes. A future. He's giving her a future.

"There's a program in Quantico we believe will help sharpen your skills," Cowry continues. "And upon successful completion, we would like to offer you a permanent position with the Bureau." He cocks his head. "What do you say, Miss Di Rossi?"

"You want me to work for the FBI?" Zoey asks, glancing at me. "I don't know..." She shakes her head. "I don't think that's?—"

"She'll do it," I state. "I think this is an excellent idea."

"Cami," Zoey whispers under her breath. "No... Who knows how long you'll be in witness protection. What if I can't see you for months?" Her eyes widen. "Or years!"

"We can FaceTime," I mumble back. "I'm sure you could figure it out."

"There will be no communication between witnesses," Agent Fitz pipes up, overhearing our conversation. "It's protocol."

I shoot daggers at him. "Of course, Agent Fitzgerald, we wouldn't dare think of breaking any more rules." I hold up two fingers. "Scout's honor."

"Miss Bianco," Cowry sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Agent Fitzgerald is correct. In order to protect both you and Miss Di Rossi, and help the DOJ, we must play by the rules, otherwise the defense will have grounds for a mistrial."

"Right," I swallow, using every ounce of my will to keep my gaze forward. Don't look at him. Don't. Fucking rules. "We'll do whatever is necessary, Agent Cowry."

"Wonderful," Cowry states, glancing at Scott and Deol. "Why don't we take a quick ten-minute break? I need to contact Williams at Quantico and tell him to expect a new recruit."

"I don't want to do this," Zoey mutters as we stand up and walk toward the refreshment table. I pass her a mug. "I think we should say no, Cami. This wasn't the agreement. They can't just?—"

"Zoella," I say, facing her. "You're doing this, understand? It's done. They're probably going to ship me to Buttfuck Nowhere while they sort all this shit out. You're young Zoey." I give her a warm smile. "And so fucking bright, okay? This is a chance for you to build a life, a chance for you to be a part of something meaningful. And whenever this is done, whenever the dust settles, I'll see you again, okay? It's not going to be forever. It's just temporary, Zoe."

"But—"

"No buts, Zoey," I say with absolute resolution. "You've given up enough of your future for me. Not this time." I nod over her shoulder. "I'm going to go to the bathroom now, okay? Don't you dare bow out while I'm gone."

Zoey rolls her eyes as I head out of the boardroom. "You're still bossy!"

"Fuck if I care!" I call back, sighing as a wave of sadness washes over me.

I'm going to be alone. Actually alone. Maybe I need this. Maybe it's finally time.

No people.

No ghosts.

No one destroying my dreams. No one messing with my mind. No one haunting my heart.

Solitude.

I can do it... I can?—

"Camilla!" I gasp as Hayden taps my shoulder. "Come with me."

"No," I whisper, picking up speed as I attempt to run away from him. "Go away, Hayden. We can't do this. We can't?—"

"Come here," he grunts, grabbing my wrist. He looks around before opening a door to a broom closet and shoving me inside. He closes the door gently, running a frustrated hand through his hair as I cross my arms. "This silent treatment needs to end, Camilla. Talk to me for God's sake."

"About what?" I ask as daylight peaks through the caged window of the storage room and lines Hayden's face with checkers. "There's nothing left to say, Hayden! You killed him, you killed my father. It's done."

"I had to," he grunts, exasperated as he stalks toward me. I take a step away from him, my back hitting the plastic storage shelf. "I understand you are upset with me, Camilla, I know you wanted to see him brought to justice?—"

"What?" I ask, narrowing my puzzled eyes up at Hayden. "You think I'm mad at you for killing him? You think that's why I've been ignoring you? He killed Leo, Hayden! He deserved to die."

He blinks. "Then why…?"

"Because," I whisper, lip quivering as I place my palm on his rising chest. "Because now you're part of the case, Hayden. You're not just some random agent, some badge number that was on the scene."

"Oh, baby," Hayden hums, pained realization dawning on him as he watches me disappear right before his eyes. "We can?—"

"No, we can't, Hayden. We can't . That's the thing." I shake my head, eyes welling with tears. "You pulled the trigger, Hayden. We... We can't do this now." I suck in a shaky breath as Hayden stares down at me, internal conflict battling in his jade eyes. "Agent Cowry was right. This case is already so convoluted, so fucking messy, and we can't do anything to jeopardize its success." I swallow as he hovers over me, like a looming shadow of bad timing and star-crossed paths. "Leo died, Hayden. He can't have died in vain."

"Fuck." Hayden's neck tightens, his breathing shallow as he grabs the edge of the shelf, leaning forward, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. "This is all so fucked."

I close my eyes, inhaling the sweet, minty scent of his breath as he brushes his hand through my hair, his fingers digging into my scalp with need, with longing, with the brutal realization that I'm correct.

"Hayden, please," I breathe. "We need to say goodbye."

"Can you feel my heart, Camilla?" he whispers, chest rising against my palm. "Can you feel how fast my heart is beating?"

He drags his hand down the side of my face, my dampened cheek, the curve of my neck. His touch is scalding but frigid, gentle but rough, gut-wrenchingly painful but, oh God, nothing has ever felt as pure.

"Hay—"

"I'm intoxicated by you, Camilla." He dips his fingers under my chin, tipping my head back as his glossy gaze sweeps mine. "No matter where you go, no matter how long we are apart, my heart will only beat for you." He rests his forehead against mine. "Only for you. "

Loving Daniel was like snow.

Gentle. Pure. Light. Heavenly. Quiet.

It was easy.

It was so simple.

Hayden isn't snow.

He's thunder and lightning and hail.

Loud. Chaotic. Destructive.

Beautiful.

And unforgettable.

He's the northern lights.

Temporary.

"I..."

"Only you," Hayden whispers again, brushing his nose against mine as he holds the back of my head. "I won't give up on us, Camilla. I don't care how long it'll take. I won't stop chasing you."

My chest tightens because I know I need to stop running. For a second. Just for a moment, I need to stop fucking running. I've been running for so long. It's exhausting. I am so goddamn tired.

"Hayden," I whisper, fisting his shirt as I pull myself up on my tiptoes. Licking my lips, I meet his determined eyes. "I..."

"Say it," he begs. "Just once. If this is the end, Camilla, then please... Please say it." His jaw locks. "One fucking time."

I blink away tears, my heart crumbling as I allow myself, for a fleeting second, to look directly at the sun.

"I love you," I breathe out. "I love you, Hayden."

"I know," he whispers, casting me a bittersweet smile. He rubs the pad of this thumb across my trembling lips. "I'll figure this out, Camilla. I promise." He leans over, giving me a parting kiss. "I love you too much to give up." Hayden inhales, glancing at the door. "This isn't goodbye, Camilla."

"Then what is it?" I ask, knowing that in less than two hours I'll be shipped far, far away from the man that's become by North Star. "What is it, Hayden?"

"Merely an obstacle," he says, twisting the door handle. I frown and he gives me a knowing smirk. "Don't worry, Camilla, I don't break rules." He opens the door. "But I sure as hell bend them."

"They won't tell you where I'm going," I note as he cautiously leads us out the broom closet. "They won't?—"

"Have a little faith, Camilla," he says under his breath before he walks away from me.

I close my eyes.

He's gone.

But I still feel his lips on mine.

Not like a ghost.

But an angel.