Ethan and I walked down the driveway without exchanging a single word. My mind was too busy to make small talk, and by the stiff set of Ethan's shoulders I think he was similarly preoccupied.

As we reached the little blue compact, I noticed that it was more than just a little beat up. Rust ringed the wheel wells, and there were several scratches in the one passenger side door.

"Sorry, I know it's not much to look at," Ethan offered, as if in response to something I said—though I hadn't actually said anything. Maybe he had glimpsed the image of his car in my thoughts. "But it does the job."

"Hey, I don't even have a car," I replied sheepishly. Though he swore he couldn't hear thoughts, I wondered if he could feel any of the emotions that went with the images. Could he tell if something was thought with kindness, or disdain? I made a note to keep my thoughts kind around him.

"What about...?" he started, finishing the thought with a nod towards the BMW parked behind.

"On loan," I said. "Like the house."

Ethan nodded, then climbed into the driver's seat. He reached across and popped the lock on the passenger side.

I opened the door and stopped. There was nowhere to sit. Papers covered every surface of the car—on the seats, on the dash, on the floor, piled up in boxes in the back.

"Sorry," Ethan said again, furiously gathering up the paper on the passenger seat. "I have to travel a lot for work, so my car kind of becomes my office..."

"It's fine," I said as I slid into the cleared seat, carefully placing my feet so they weren't stepping on any of the papers that were on the floor.

Ethan looked around the small car, his arms full of gathered paper and keys, like he wasn't sure where to put any of it.

"Here." I offered my arms. "I can hold it."

His pale face reddened again. "A-Are you sure?"

"It's not a big deal," I said. "You're giving me a ride. It's the least I can do."

He considered my offer a moment longer, then sighed and clumsily handed over the stack. I had to press them to my chest to prevent any from escaping.

"Thanks," he said, digging out his key. "And sorry. Again. Tory keeps saying he'll help me clean out the car but then he keeps bailing..." Ethan's face darkened, and he huffed another sigh. "Whatever. Guess I can't keep waiting forever." He jabbed the key into the ignition with more force than was needed, and the little car gave a sputter before roaring to life. It rumbled heartily beneath us. Though it looked meek, the car was not without its strengths. It took after its owner.

Ethan put the car in drive and circled around the driveway and the out onto the street. We sat in another heavy silence as we sped down the suburban streets. I looked longingly at the car's ancient little radio. I wondered if Ethan would mind if I turned it on and filled the car with something—anything—other than this suffocating silence.

"It doesn't work," Ethan said, suddenly.

I jumped a little. "Huh?"

"The radio," he said. "It's broken, has been for a while. Tory said he'd fix it but..." He gave another heaving sigh.

I stared at him. "You know, you're a lot better at that than you let on."

"At what?" Ethan asked innocently.

"You know what," I said plainly, narrowing my eyes at him.

Ethan's mouth curved into a little smile. "Yeah, maybe. Try telling my boyfriend that." His smile fell. "Resists his gifts..." He scoffed.

We were nearing the last intersection before the bridge. The light was green, stale. I felt the little car speed up beneath me.

Just as we reached it, the light made a sudden switch from green to yellow. But we would make it. I tightened my grip on the stack of papers. My arm, still tender and swollen, gave a twinge in response.

The car picked up more speed as we sped through. Then his headlights caught on something. Something standing in the road, halfway across the crosswalk.

A person.

"Fuck!"

Ethan slammed on the brakes. I lurched forward, hard. My heart leapt into in my throat as I was caught by the seat belt. All the papers in my arms spilled out onto the floor below.

But the car didn't stop. The tires screeched as Ethan jerked the wheel, trying to swerve out of the way. The person flashed by us, their long hair whipping at my window. I waited for a sickening crunch...

The little car was in a spin now. Papers scattered, flying up, pasting themselves to windows. I tried my best to hold on, bracing my arms against the door and seat and praying.

There was a large bump, but then we finally we lurched to a stop. Papers were everywhere, more so than before. My heart was pounding. It took a minute for me to take a proper breath, and another before I managed to turn my head to look at Ethan. He was hunched over the steering wheel, shaking.

"Ethan?"

He flinched, tightening his grip on the wheel.

"The girl," he muttered, his voice small and hollow. "Did we hit her?"

"I—I don't know," I answered.

I looked out the window. At this time of night, the street was quiet and the sidewalks were empty. No one had witnessed our near death experience. And whoever had been there was now gone. At least there were no ominous streaks of red on the road...

"I don't see anyone..." I said, my voice whisper-quiet.

Ethan gave a pitiful moan.

"I'll go out and check," I offered.

He didn't respond.

The wind had picked up. It was carrying a thin mist in from the inlet, clouding the streets. As soon as I opened the door, papers went flying off in every direction. I let them go and shut the door.

The mist cut right through my shirt, quickly chilling me, even on a summer evening. The first whispers of Fall's inevitable return. I held myself tightly as I did a quick once over of the vehicle. It was at a slight angle, two tires balanced on the curb. Nothing was wrong with it except for a broken headlight. With a deep breath, I bent over to check if, God forbid, there was something—someone—trapped beneath it.

There was no one there.

I straightened up, relieved... but confused. Where were they? "Hello?" I called, glancing around the street.

No answer.

If they were here... then they were gone now. Did they run off? I wondered, rubbing at my quickly numbing arms. I didn't want to ponder it out here. The mist was so thick it was dampening my shirt.

Ethan jolted when I opened the door again. A few more pages fluttered free. I quickly slid in and closed the door behind me to prevent more from escaping.

"Is there...?" he asked shakily.

I shook my head. "No one is there."

"What?" he protested, he said, whipping around to look at me. "But I saw her! You did too, didn't you?"

"I did," I said. I didn't want to remind him that what I saw wasn't always reliable.

"I saw her..." he said again, but his voice was a whisper.

"They probably got scared and ran off," I suggested, hopefully. "People do strange things when they panic."

"I just hope they're okay," Ethan said wearily.

"Me too," I muttered.

"I should get you home, before anything else happens" Ethan said as his shaking hand reached for the key in the ignition, but paused. "How was the car? Any damage?"

"Not from what I could see... though the left headlight is out."

Ethan clucked his tongue. "Great. Another thing for Tory to fix. One day."

He turned the key and the car started up without a problem. There was another bump as we drove off the curb. As we got back on the road Ethan's pace was much slower and again silence fell between us.

As we drove over the bridge, I wasn't able to take the awkward anymore. I bent over and began gathering the stray pages at my feet. I had no idea how many I had lost, but I didn't want to stomp all over the ones that were left. As I dug through the pile, I found a face staring out at me. Amongst the forms and notes was another one of his portraits, masterfully rendered in pencil. This one was of a middle aged woman. Each line and fine detail of her face was expertly captured, her eyes lively and full of intensity.

Looking at the woman—who seemed like she was looking back at me—reminded me I hadn't gotten to see the ones he had done tonight. I had so many questions... Questions I hadn't even gotten to ask. Like usual.

"Luc said your drawings were helpful," I started. "Do you have them with you?"

"No," Ethan said stiffly. "Luc kept them."

"Of course he did," I said, shaking my head. Damn.

"Don't worry, they weren't much," Ethan continued. "They were mostly scribbles. I was really rushed because Tory couldn't keep focussed. I don't know how much help they'll be in finding anyone, but Luc seemed to like what he saw."

"Oh?" I said, perhaps too eagerly.

"Yeah, he did." Ethan gave me a look before turning back to the road. His brows were hidden under his shaggy bangs, but I was sure he was probably raising one at me. "I'd tell you to ask him about it, but... Well, call it a hunch, but I don't think he's going to be too willing to share."

I blinked at him. "How do you know?"

"Call it a hunch," he said, with a shrug. "Tory's been the same lately. So secretive. And he's very careful about what he thinks about around me."

"Who does?"

"Tory. And Luc now too," Ethan shook his head. "Or at least I haven't noticed Luc doing it until tonight."

I snorted, then slouched in my seat, defeated. "That sounds about right." At least someone else had noticed that too. I didn't feel crazy anymore.

Out of nowhere, Ethan slammed his hand against the steering wheel. "It fucking pisses me off," he snarled. "Tory treats me like I'm stupid! He says he keeps it out of his mind because he doesn't think I'd understand about his oh-so-special psychic work... Just because I haven't crawled up Luc's ass! Which I'm sure he'd love to do." He looked mad enough to spit.

"Uh..." was all I could manage in reply.

Ethan didn't need one. "And just because I don't want to waste half my fucking life as a glorified errand boy for some high and mighty master doesn't mean I don't know anything about magic!" He pounded the steering wheel again. "He's such a bastard! 'Resists his gifts'... What the fuck does he know?!"

I just stared at him, half out of shock, half out of awe.

It took a moment for Ethan to actually realize what he had just said. When he did, his face flared red—redder than I had ever seen it.

"S-Sorry," he mumbled. "I didn't mean for that to... I don't know where that came from."

"I do," I said. "You're frustrated. So am I."

Ethan was quiet for a moment. "I figured you might be going through this, too. I wasn't sure, but just watching the way Luc treated you after the seance... Guess Tory is really is learning from a master."

This time, it was my cheeks that reddened. "It makes me feel like a child."

"Me too," Ethan admitted. "I hate the way Tory keeps stuff from me, like he doesn't think I'm smart enough to understand, or something..."

"Yeah, I hate that too," I replied. It felt so good to let this all out, it was almost dizzying. "At least with Luc, I don't think he keeps stuff from me because he thinks I'm dumb. I think, in his weird way, he's trying to protect me."

"Protect you?" Ethan echoed, sounding dubious.

"It's a long story. I don't know how much Tory's told you about Luc's history..."

"Nothing. He tells me pretty much fuck all."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Okay, well, let's just say that Luc has his issues. I can't exactly fault him for that—I have my own issues, after all. But because of that, he has this compulsive need to shield me from everything."

"I could tell."

"But I don't want that—to be some princess locked in a tower while he fights dragons on his own. I want to help! But no matter how many times I tell him that..."

"He doesn't listen," Ethan finished for me, nodding along.

"Yeah," I said slumping back into my seat. "I don't know how much longer I can keep trying to get him to listen." There it was: the cold, honest truth that I had been avoiding. How much longer could I keep doing this? It landed like a stone, sinking deep inside, weighing me down.

But without Luc... What the fuck am I going to do?

The car came to a stop. Without realizing it, we had made our way back to the shop. With the lights off, the street lamps reflecting strangely off the golden barrier script, the little shop looked kind of ominous. Or maybe that was all the strange things that had happened today.

Either way, the idea of spending the evening alone...

"Hey," I started, twisting around to Ethan. "Do you want to come in and hang out for a bit? I have some champagne. I got some for the store's grand opening but I can buy more..."

"As awesome as that sounds, I'm actually totally beat. Can I take a raincheck?"

I gave him a fake smile to hide my disappointment. "Of course."

"Actually," Ethan said. He dug into his pocket, and pulled out his phone. "What's your number? I'll text you and we can go out for coffee sometime, and continue this bitchfest."

My fake smile gave way to a real one. "I'd really like that, but my phone is broken," I cringed at the ugly memory. "I haven't had a chance to replace it, but I will soon."

"Ain't that always the way..." Ethan said with a shake of his head. He grabbed one of the papers from my lap—the portrait of the woman—and tore a corner off, taking a chunk of her head with it. I wanted to object that about destroying his beautiful work, but he was unfazed. He reached for one of the pencils in the cupholder, and jotted down his number.

"Here," he said, offering me the scrap. "For when you get your new phone."

"Great," I said, pocketing the scrap and gathering up the stack before handing over. "Thanks again for the ride. Sorry it was so... eventful. Things to get weird around me these days."

"Story of my life," Ethan replied with a hollow laugh. "I seriously cannot wait to throw myself in the shower and pour myself a nice big whiskey.

"That sounds nice," I said, picturing myself in the shower as I climbed out of the car. How good the hot water would feel, especially after that weird dream and the cold mist.

"I'll see you later, Rachel. And seriously... Don't be afraid to text me."

"Once I get my phone," I said, leaning in.

"Once you get your phone," Ethan echoed. He gave me a wave as I shut the door.

He waited until I was at the shop door before pulling out of the parking space. I watched the little rusted compact drive out of sight. A breeze blew by, once again sending shivers through me. Immediately I wished he had stayed. I really didn't want to be alone.

Rachel's relationship with Luc is deteriorating...
But what would she do without him and his psychic abilities? 🔮

I hope you enjoyed the chapter!
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As usual, I'll be posting the next chapter on Patreon next week (find the link on my profile!) and then on Wattpad the week after that!