Page 3 of Possess Me! (I Want You To)

“I got this in the swap—” Blondie held his hand out toward me, palm facing down, the chain inside his fist dangling where it glittered, heavier than it looked. “But I’ll swap you for it if you want.”

“What is it?” I wasn’t sure why I was even considering this. But…I’d spent the past hour choking on salt and sorrow and staring at my last salvation like it had turned into a demon itself. I was pretty okay with the idea of parting with the painting considering the fact it was apparently fucking hideous anyway—or so Temperance Rain had said. Fuck hope. And fuck Temperance. (Not literally, ew.)

“It’s a lucky necklace.”

“A lucky—”

“Yeah,” Blondie’s lips curled up and he shook the necklace at me, clearly getting a kick out of the way my eyes chased the movement of the chain. There was a bone-white cross dangling from the end, and it swung back and forth, back and forth like a pendulum as I stared. “Super lucky. I mean, I put this thing on and not even five minutes later a girl walked up to me and told me her hot brother was looking for fun.”

That didn’t necessarily mean it was lucky.

Only that he was hot and in a club full of people ready to fuck.

I stared at him dubiously, and he leaned closer to try to convince me.

“I also found a twenty-dollar bill. Annnnnd…” He waggled the cross at me again. “I found you, didn’t I? With a painting that has the exact same color palette as my living room.” Blondie blinked. “If that’s not lucky then I don’t know what is.”

“And the person you swapped with?” I asked, more than a little intrigued, even though I was kind of embarrassed to admit it. “They don’t mind you giving it to me?” Actually no, I didn’t really care about that. What I cared more about was— “They think the necklace is lucky too?”

“Oh, fuck yeah. The girl who traded me was the cutest little pastel goth. Told me she’s had nothing but good luck since she found it.”

“So why give it away then?” This had to be a trick. I narrowed my eyes at him.

“I dunno man.” His eyes narrowed right back and his fist shifted away from me a fraction. The necklace swung out of reach. I wasn’t stupid. It was obvious he was playing me, pretending to change his mind so I’d jump head first without thinking. Even though I knew that, my heart still began to race and the greedy little monster that rose up inside me screamed that I was about to lose a once in a lifetime opportunity. What if the necklace really was lucky? This could be exactly what I needed.

“Maybe you’re right…maybe I should keep it.” Blondie was really laying it on thick. What a bitch. He was playing me and I knew it, but I fell right into the trap anyway. Hook, line, and sinker.

“No, no.” I shook my head, holding my painting toward him in defeat. “You wanted this, right? Matches your interior?” Now it was my turn to lay it on thick. I fluttered my lashes. “It’s one of a kind.”

His eyes glimmered in the flashing lights as he seemed to debate with himself. I knew he’d already made up his mind, but this was part of the game. It always was. Someone else knocked into my shoulder and I clutched my painting tighter, knuckles white as it wavered in the space between us, terrified a wayward elbow was going to knock the canvas right off the wooden frame.

The yellow, almost petal-like paint strokes mocked me.

“You’re right.” Blondie grinned, reaching out to snag the painting from me before I could change my mind. For a second I worried he was about to run off with both items, but he didn’t. When the painting was secured beneath his arm, he dropped the necklace gingerly into my open palm. It was warm from the heat of his hand, and slightly sweaty too. I clutched it, pulling it close to my chest for fear he’d change his mind.

He didn’t.

Now that I’d committed to this, there was no way in hell I was backing out.

That lucky necklace was mine, goddamn it. Blond twunks be damned.

Blondie was gone before I could blink, and for a moment I worried that I’d made a horrible decision. I stared out at the thriving throng of bodies, ignoring their laughter as the white cross in my palm dug into the skin. I could feel eyes prickling on the back of my neck, and when I turned there was no one there.

Just my imagination then.

Probably.

Finally, I made my way to the bar, the niggling feeling that I’d missed something important tickling at the back of my mind. Quickly, before Violet could see what I’d just traded my last salvation for, I plucked the necklace over my head and tucked it under the collar of my t-shirt. It sat hot against my collarbone, a stark reminder of what I’d done as I dodged elbows and surrendered to the call of booze and morning after regrets.

Maybe this had been just another in the long list of my fuck-ups, but I figured it would all work out in the end. I didn’t know what the future held.

All I knew was that I could use some luck.

Being a ghost made it hard to get laid. There were hoops to jump through, rules to twist, and laws to break. Vanity and Chastity were helpful in acquiring my conquests, but despite the relative frequency of them, there was always something lacking from the encounters. I didn’t mind the necessary espionage. I didn’t mind the lying. I didn’t mind the extra work. What I minded was the fact that—just like when I’d been alive—after all was said and done, everyone was still fucking boring.

I’d spent sixteen years attached to a murderous bitch. You’d think I’d be tired of the drama.

But in a fucked up way, I missed it. At least strapped to Lydia, I felt…something. It was easier to ignore the way the world and I didn’t seem to mesh when all I had to worry about was whose life I’d fuck up next, or what shitty thing I’d have to endure afterward. Being “free” as my sisters called it, only made it obvious there was something very off about me.

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