Well, fucking great.
Here I am, stuck in prison, and someone’s trying to kill me. And it’s not Linda, for once. And they shot my exorcist, the arseholes. Now how the hell am I gonna get rid of her?
And like thinking her name brought her here, she pops in. Fucking wonderful.
“Mike – what the FUCK happened to Trent?”
“Whadda you care?”
She rolls her eyes at me.
“Fine,” I say, beyond caring, “He got shot. Someone was aiming for me. Thanks to you nicking everyone’s stuff and stashing it in my cell, everybody hates me. And someone really hates me. Happy? Finished trying to get me killed? They’re gonna try again, you know.”
The bitch turns white as a ghost, and disappears.
Lucky, I was having trouble keeping a straight face.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I can’t believe I got Trent shot. This has all gone too far. None of this is his fault. I should never have gotten anyone else involved in my problems.
I wake up, and Linda’s sitting by my bed sobbing. Huh, no tears. If anyone ever asks me if ghosts can cry, I’ll know the answer.
“I’m so sorry, Trent!” she gulps.
“’Salright,” I say.
“Someone shot you because of something I did. I’m so sorry!”
Is she repeating herself? Or am I just really drugged up? I frown, and try to clear my brain through sheer willpowerish stuff.
“Trent… you got shot because I did something to make people hate Mike. I’m so sorry!”
She is repeating herself.
“Mike doesn’t need any help, Linda, he’s an arsehole on legs.”
She looks shocked.
Bloody blind women. She didn’t notice even after he killed her?