Page 31 of Ghosts of Halloween

Unless Jack finds another way. He’s so motivated, he just might.

I give him a sharp nod, and Jack turns back to the stairs. He releases a long breath, running his hand over his buzz cut, and I look over at Silas. He’s watching me, eyes glittering, face guarded, and I have no idea what he’s thinking.

Until Jack goes up the stairs and Silas comes over, cupping my cheek.

“I lied. You’d be worth it for me,” he says and looks away, brows pinching in anger as his hand falls away.

He hates being emotional. Which makes moments like this one so precious.

I grip his hair and make him look back at me.

“And you, for me,” I say before I kiss him.

He kisses me back, hungry and demanding, until we break apart, panting, his hooded eyes on me, his lips swollen.

And at that moment, right there, I know I’ll help Jack find another solution. I’m motivated, too.

There is a high-pitched scream from above, and Silas grins, turning toward the stairs. Blood pumps faster in my ears, arousal stirring at the base of my spine.

Whatever happens, we’ll always have this. This night is ours. And I intend to milk it for what it’s worth.

“Let’s scare our girl to death,” Silas says with a grin and goes up the stairs.

I follow him with a laugh. Oh, yeah. Let’s.

17

Harlow

The door won’t budge. I turn away and look around frantically, trying to figure out my other options. Because fuck me if I stay another minute in this house.

Do I want to know who they are? Sure. But I want to run even more than that, and I should be glad they gave me this opening.

I cross the room to the window and try it. It’s locked, sealed shut just like the door. I stomp in frustration and then sweep my eyes over the floor, looking for something I could break the glass with. After I opened the dusty curtains covering the window, there’s enough light to see in the gloom.

There.I run a few steps and pick up a heavy frying pan. I have no idea what it’s doing on the floor, but I won’t complain. It’s perfect.

I cross back to the window and heft the weapon in my left hand. The handle is long, so I should be able to break the glass without getting hurt.

All right.I look over my shoulder one last time, unnerved by the silence, but no one’s here. Maybe they are hiding from me or biding their time. I don’t care.

I’m out of here.

Panting hard, I widen my stance and prepare. Just when I swing my arm back, ready to hit the window, someone yanks the frying pan out of my hand so hard, my shoulder explodes with pain. I cry out and whip back, trying to see who it was.

But… There is no one here.

The room is silent apart from my frantic breathing. It’s dark and messy with no furniture, just trash strewn on the floor, and there is no way someone could have reached me and then hidden without me noticing. I would have heard steps. I would have seen something.

My hand is clammy as I slowly turn in a circle, heart pounding. Nothing. Silence. But I know what I felt, and the dull throbbing in my shoulder confirms it.

A ridiculous thought hits me, and I hiccup, slowly backing up toward the wall.

After all… it’s Halloween. And Iaminside the haunted house. Anything’s possible, right?

I take a deep breath, images from all the horror films I saw over the years pouring into my head. I’m not crazy, I felt it. Which means… Whoever pulled that pan out of my hand is either invisible… or above me.

My heart in my throat, I slowly look up at the ceiling, not even knowing what I expect to see, but fearing it all the same.

---