Heaven Help Me, Or Hell Have Me (Heaven Help Me #1) Read Online Free Page A

yeah...it
does something deep inside me .
    But I ignore him. And so
does Cici, though I think mainly ‘cause she doesn’t hear him. I
glance for confirmation. Yup, oblivious. Ha! Wish I was.
    “ Hey, Kassie.”
    Heaven help me, or Hell
have me. He knows my name?!
    And then he claps his hands and says
it again.
    Jee-sus. I’m not a dog! But I keep my
cool, and I don’t react.
    “ KASSIE!”
    Yeah buddy, and yelling it
is going to produce results. Just ask my mother if that ever worked
for her.
    “ Kasandrae Marie
Dane.”
    I flinch. Dammit! Maybe he
didn’t notice.
    “ I saw that.”
    Crapola! Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’t
look. And so I don’t.
    And he backs off, leaning
against the far wall, and seems okay with dropping it.
    For now.

Chapter 5
    I can feel his eyes on me,
boring little holes in the side of my head. I shift, stretch and
yawn, but I’m fighting it. I’m not getting off this couch. No way
am I going to bed with him creeping around, looking, seeing,
listening...maybe judging, poking in things, being
nosey.
    He hasn’t moved an inch.
Not when I got up to go to the bathroom, not when I got up to get
more wine, not when Cici finally left. And I begin to think about
the infinite patience a ghost must have, and how I’m probably not
going to win this little standoff. Well, either that or he died all
over again and that’s where his body is setting up shop.
    I dare a quick glance, the
first in over two hours. His eyes narrow. Sooo not just a corpse propped against
the wall. Well, I suppose that’s good in its own respect. ‘Cause
really, what would I do then?
    “ Are you going to keep
pretending you don’t see me?”
    I’m tired enough to where
I almost answer Yes , but catch myself. And yeah, this can’t go on. Ghosty Man
doesn’t even look tired. What am I gonna do? Sit here on the couch
all night? Can’t stay awake forever. Maybe if I go to bed, he’ll
get the hint and go away.
    I’m thinking it’s a
plan—not a good one, but a plan nevertheless—and I go about my
routine of getting ready for bed. It’s in the middle of my routine
that G-man decides to move. And, of course, it’s right in the
middle of the hall as I’m heading to the bathroom.
    Please, let him move. Please, let him
move. Please, let him move. And I keep walking, and he’s not
moving, and I’m mentally preparing myself for the collision. And
then he moves at the last second. I let out a relieved sigh.
Couldn’t be helped. And of course he hears it. Again, couldn’t be
helped.
    “ Next time, I’m not moving
and you can plow right into me.”
    I cringe ‘cause I know
he’ll do it, too. So I brush my teeth and throw my hair in a pony,
and think about my plan of attack. Typically, at bedtime, I’m
wandering all around my space thinking of one thing, forgetting it,
then thinking of another before I finally wind down enough to
crash. That won’t work here. There’s only so many times I can dodge
this man.
    Sooo, living room first.
Turn off the lights and TV, check the door, make sure the window is
open for Cat. Then, kitchen. Lights, oven, coffee maker. After
that, bedroom. Get dressed... And how in God’s good name am I gonna
accomplish that? Okay, close the door, and hope G-man has a sense
of decency. Though, haunting a girl in her own home kinda throws
that theory right out the window.
    Oh, well. I can only do
what I can do, right? Ready, set, go!
    I fly out of the bathroom,
a woman on a mission. Destination: Living room. I throw my
shoulders back, my jaw is set, my eyes on the prize. Ain’t nothing
stopping this girl! Well, except for the bulk of a ghost stepping in my
way, arms crossed, smirking and green eyes glinting. Aaand I veer
into the kitchen to avoid him.
    Dammit. So much for my
resolve.
    I kick myself for losing
my nerve in two seconds flat, and do my whole kitchen routine (Hey,
look—I remembered to turn the stove off this time.), and think
about how I’m gonna get past G-man to the living