Page 13 of Meet Me After Life

He only raises his chin, imperiously. The house quivers.

‘Could you stop?’

‘The house is sensitive to its occupants’ emotions,’ he deadpans, completely unamused. Can’t say I feel exactly chuckled either.

I refrain from rolling my eyes, annoyance stealing from the overall state of panic I found myself in a few moments prior. Okay. What to do, what to do, what to do? Think, Miller!

I pick up my phone and unlock it to check if the Destiny Lame website has any instruction on what to do if the mortal home you’ve acquired is in fact, already possessed and⁠—

Gah! I’ve been surprise cock’d all over again. I jump and quickly shake my head, trying to expel the image from my mind as I quickly exit messages and block the number before jumping onto google.

Ah. Here.

‘In cases of haunting and/or pre-existing after-death occupants:

Destiny Lane and the Keninburgh governing party take nil responsibility and are liable for nought emotional, spiritual and/or physical harm as per contract clause 5.834. If you should find your home uninhabitable, please refer to clause 6.44 paragraph 7.’

I click the underlined link to clause 6.44 paragraph 7.

‘You’re on your own.’

Well, fuck.

I look up at Walker through my lashes with a cringe.

‘It would appear we have arrived at an impasse.’ I set my phone on the coffee table and interlock my fingers in front of me.

I don’t think I have ever in my life seen a face this haughty. This face rivals the inhabitants of the teen girl dorms, back at Orcwell’s orphanage. I consider telling him this but quickly rule against it. I can see him seething behind his eyes, and he’s barely moved an inch. His gaze rakes up and down my body, taking my measure, burning me with its furious intent.

Bit rude.

I shift on the spot, tucking one leg behind the other, trying at some semblance of modesty.

After an eternity of the palpable (mutual) displeasure in silence, he finally speaks. Walker scratches the stubble of his jaw before looking me up and down again.

‘The circumstances are less than ideal, but a compromise must be made,’ he says, holding his hands behind his back. His ghost shirt stretching across his lean chest. Damn. Ghost boy works out.

‘I will give you three days to find a new home. In that time, you will remain sequestered to one of the bedrooms, and I’ll allow kitchen access one hour of each day.’

I choke on a gasp.

‘That’s hardly…’ I stop, flustered. ‘I’m not…’ Stars, I can’t even⁠—

‘Do please at least try to finish a thought.’

I narrow my eyes in his direction. ‘I’m not moving.’ How’s that thought for ya?

Besides the fact I was late to the party and scraping the bottom of the barrel, I don’t have the money to move again, even if there was another house in Destiny Lame to choose from.

But this guy, he doesn’t even have to think about bond or rent or removalists. (Not that my things have even arrived yet. Gah!) He could go anywhere in the world. All he needs to do is choose a nice spot and fuck off to it.

Walker’s polished dress shoes glint as he takes a menacing step forward. I’m very proud of the way I don’t retreat.

‘I’m not leaving,’ he says through gritted teeth.

‘Then prepare to be roomies,’ I embellish with jazz hands.

‘Prepare to be haunted,’ he says back like he’s making a counteroffer on a business proposal.