Fate's Revenge (Twisted Fate, Book 4)

Chapter Fifty-Five

"How?"

I pulled back and held Suzie's gaze. When I'd reached out for her, I had assumed I'd fall through her like she was a holographic image my mind had produced to dull the pain and guilt I'd been feeling since her death. Magical thinking or... she was a ghost without a physical form. But this was Heaven, and Suzie was here.

She opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, I asked, "What happened? I'm sorry."

Suzie blinked and then laughed. And then we were both laughing, though I hadn't a clue why. My apology was ridiculous, nonsensical, and completely off-topic. That wasn't to mention that if she hadn't died, it would never have been said. Nothing like a trip to the other side to get your friends to drop a grudge. Which, speaking of....

Pulling back, I reached out and slapped her, hard. Definitely real. Suzie grabbed her cheek, cupping it in her hand, and narrowed her eyes. I bit my lip to keep from laughing, somehow loving the fact that she had stopped chuckling so quickly.

"What was that for?" she asked.

"Yeah, okay. Like you don't know." I rolled my eyes and steeped away from her.

"I couldn't tell you Mike wasn't David!"

"What makes you think you didn't just now?"

"I... they said..." She clamped her mouth closed and let her hand drop. "Not. Funny."

"Yeah, well." I flipped my hand in the air and attempted a careless smile, but I wasn't sure it wasn't more of a grimace.

Suzie held my gaze for a moment and then nodded, ducking her head to sit in the chair as I sat on the edge of my bed. No one spoke, the relief of her appearance settling. All the issues and the mistrust that had been festering between us before she died trickled in to temper the joy of having her here, maybe alive. Although lessoned by the extraordinary events—her miraculous return to life—none of what I'd felt had gone as I'd thought. It was just hidden by my grief and time, waiting for the pain of loss to pass.

"I'm sorry," Suzie said quietly, watching her hands as she clutched them in her lap. "It didn't happen the way I saw it happen." She looked up. "You were supposed to figure out who Gabe was before anything with me and Mike."

"You knew you'd fall for him?"

"Not really. I mean, I knew what I felt when he was around, yeah, but not that it would happen like that. I usually can't see anything at all when it comes to me."

"Then how—?"

"Oh, I saw the moment you figured out who David was. They were both there and—"

"No, they weren't. It was just me and Gabe. We were at Renalda's." There was no way I was dishing the details. Anything more than a broad picture of events was something only the two of us would share. Private. Without crossing into risqué, it was the most intimate experience I'd ever shared with someone.

"But..." Suzie shifted, her brows knitting together. "I saw you find them in the library. You said you knew who David was and pulled Mike aside. By the time you gave him the whole 'Dear John,' let's-just-be-friends spiel and found your way back to Gabe, he thought he'd lost you. The reunion was—" she exhaled "—spectacular."

Why did the wistful expression on her face make me want to slap her? Was it what she said or how she said it? Or maybe it was the fact that it seemed so romantic, I wished that is how it occurred despite believing nothing but candles, wine and a little privacy could have topped how it happened. The feelings in that moment couldn't be duplicated or, I realized, shared. She should never have watched us. Visions weren't meant to be used to spy on private moments.