Losing Hope | {BOOK 4}

87| Memory Loss

At the morgue, we found a small pink hex bag inside one of the evidence bags.

"Mm. Ugh," I gagged, trying not to throw up my breakfast as Sam and Dean continued sorting through the bloody bags.

"Well, well," Dean showed me the hex bag. "You were saying about an ironic mobster?"

"Alright," I sighed, "so... a witch force feeds old Barry here a hex bag and then casts a spell."

"Yeah, a spell that pumps him so full of cash, he dies choking on it," Sam added.

"Ugh. Witches," Dean wrinkled his nose, putting the bag back in the evidence box.

"Well, I guess it's true what they say. Mo' money, mo' problems. Right?"

Both brothers stared after me as I chuckled to myself and walked out of the room.

"I hope you're still drunk," Dean called after me.

We exited the morgue, making our way over to the car.

"So why would somebody want Barry dead?" Dean asked. "I mean, what, did he screw up a tax return?"

"He's actually more of a money manager," Sam corrected.

"Well, whatever he was, looks like he, uh, certainly made one hell of a... uh..." I trailed off, unable to think of the word I wanted to use.

"Enemy?" Sam supplied, both him and Dean staring at me expectantly.

"Enemy. Yeah," I snapped my fingers. "Those guys."

"Maybe he blew the wrong person's savings."

"Alright, well, let's check out his clients," I suggested.

"Which one? Barry worked for the richest families in town."

Sam and Dean climbed into the Impala as I just stood there looking around in confusion.

"Ellie? Ellie, come on," Dean looked at me.

I looked at him, furrowing my brow in confusion.

"Who's Ellie?"

He and Sam exchanged a worried glance.

⁘

"I told you, I'm fine," I rolled my eyes as we walked into our motel room.

"Ellie, you forgot your own name," Dean argued with me.

"For a second," I argued back, then muttered to myself. "Yeah, okay, that was weird."

I walked over to one of the beds, taking off my blazer.

"Alright, look, we know we're dealing with a witch, right?" Sam piped up, closing the door. "Maybe you got hexed."

I looked over at Sam in amusement after throwing my blazer and gun on the bed.

"Sam... If a witch got a clear shot at me, I would be dead, okay? I wouldn't be freakin', uh... Dory."

"Dory?"

"She's the best character in that movie, hands down," I glared at Sam and Dean nodded his head in agreement.

"Right. Okay. Alright. If you're doing so well, name all the members of Bon Jovi," Sam challenged me.

"Okay. Uh, we talkin' circa 1983?"

"Sure," Sam shrugged.

"Done," I nodded. "We got Bon Jovi..."

I paused, unable to recall the rest of the members.