Road Rage by Jessi Gage Read Free Book Online

stared at the streaks of morning sun scoring his bedroom ceiling. He really ought to get some blinds. The neighbors had a tall fence, which made privacy a nonissue, and he usually got up before sunrise for work, so the light didn’t bother him, but he’d been in this 1920s Craftsman for two years now. He ought to make it more of a home. Haley deserved it. Maybe he’d recruit her to help him pick out some curtains and area rugs today while shopping for back-to-school clothes.
    Sleepy footsteps shuffled past his cracked-open door. Haley, headed to the bathroom. He should get up too. He usually looked forward to firing up the griddle for Sunday morning pancakes, but a rollercoaster night of strange dreams and unspent arousal had him wishing he could sleep in.
    He’d had the nightmare where he was driving the Honda again, but he’d also had another. The second dream had dumped him in a car wreck too, and even though he’d witnessed the accident with the Honda in real life, the one on the rain-slicked roadside had felt much more personal.
    Even now, hours after the dream, the weight of the girl’s loss pinned him to the mattress. He refused to accept the added weight of her guilt, however. It hovered in his psyche, right there, ready to upset him if he chose to let it. But he ignored it. The girl might have been driving, and the accident might have even been her fault–he didn’t know since he’d shown up after the wreck–but no way did she cause her father’s death. It didn’t matter she was a figment of his sleeping subconscious; knowing she believed that made him cringe.
    Blowing out the useless emotional shit on a breath, he heaved himself out of bed. He found Haley kneeling on a kitchen chair, using his laptop. “Whatcha doing, kiddo?” He ruffled her hair with manufactured cheer.
    “Looking up ghosts.”
    He blinked a few times. Of all the things he’d been expecting her to say, checking email, looking at Facebook, playing games… “Ghosts? Why?”
    “’Cuz I think you have one.”
    “Haley, hon, there’s no such thing as ghosts.” He wanted to talk about Little League, about school, about Girl Scouts, frigging boys, anything but ghosts. What the hell was Deidre letting her get into that she came up with crap like that?
    “Uh, yeah there is, Dad. You know how I know?” She didn’t wait for him to answer. “’Cuz I saw one. She woke you up Friday night. And then last night, I thought I heard you crying again, so I went in your room to check on you. She was sitting on your bed touching your hair like Mom does when I don’t feel good.”
    His heart stopped while he processed what she’d said. He hadn’t realized Haley had looked in on him last night. A flush crept up his neck as he remembered the erection he’d had before dawn. He hoped to God she hadn’t come in then. Thankfully, her words reminded him of the gentle caresses that had taken the edge off the car-wreck dreams, which had happened earlier. But that comfort had been in his dreams. How had Haley seen?
    “She had pretty red hair,” she said, oblivious to his confusion. “But not red like Rebecca’s. It was darker. And she looked worried about you. Don’t you know who she is? Was it someone who died a long time ago?” She tapped the computer screen. “It says here sometimes deceased loved ones from your past hang around and look out for you, like watch over you. I think she was watching over you. I like her. She seems nice.”
    Dark red hair, as in rich auburn waves. His legs felt weak. He gripped the back of a chair as he moved around the table. Crouching, he wiggled the griddle from amidst the pots and pans in the cupboard.
    “There’s no such thing as ghosts, honey.” He clunked the griddle onto the counter and flipped the laptop closed. “It’s pancake time.”
    * * * *
    Derek cleaned up after dinner to the sound of crinkling plastic and excited feminine chatter. Haley sat cross-legged on the kitchen floor de-tagging