Page 71 of Ghosts of Halloween

“What is it like?” she asks quietly. “Being a ghost.”

Wondering how to answer, I lean my chin on the top of her head while my cock swells, pressing firmly into the curve of her ass. She makes a surprised sound and rubs against me, so I let out a husky laugh.

“Not great,” I say, one hand sliding to her hip to hold her still. “As actual ghosts, we… We can feel things and even lift small objects, but… It doesn’t feel like being alive. You don’t have a body, and everything is sort of… muted. We didn’t sleep, so time went by twice as slowly. And I guess Silas and Caden fucked a lot, so it’s possible, but they told me it doesn’t feel as good as the real thing.”

I swallow worriedly, wondering if I put her off this idea. But Harlow only nods and wraps her fingers around my forearm before leaning down and kissing it.

“But we’ll be able to leave this place, right?”

I hesitate for a moment before settling on the truth. “I don’t know. I don’t even know if it will work. It’s likely we’ll all just… be gone.”

She’s silent, her fingers tightening and relaxing over the tense muscle in my forearm. When she finally speaks, her voice is hoarse. “So this might be our last chance to be together like this.”

“Yeah,” I say with an uneasy laugh, because now that we’re alone, when I finally have her all to myself with the prospect of death looming just ahead, I can’t help but choke with emotion.

Fuck.How I wish it was all different. I wish she had come that night. Maybe we’d all have gone home before Vladimir’s goons came. Maybe we’d have somehow been safe and survived, and instead…

“Why didn’t you come that night?” I ask, my throat tight. “Did something… hold you back? Or did you just… not want to?”

I hate feeling so uncertain. This is all so fucking unfamiliar to me. Sure, I had girlfriends, I fucked a lot, but I never felt likethis.So exposed. It feels like I’m offering her my naked heart, no defenses, and if she chooses to, she can rake her nails across it and make me bleed.

Harlow tenses, lowering her head so her hair falls into her face, hiding her profile from me. “You don’t want to know.”

I grunt, not liking her answer one bit. When she tenses further and tries to shake off my hold, I press her to me, gritting my teeth.

“You didn’t want me,” I say through clenched teeth, my heart pounding. “Tell me, Harlow. I want to hear it from you.”

She shakes her head, her back curving against me as she hunches as if to protect herself. “It’s not that, Jack. I wanted to come. So very much.”

“Then why?” I hiss, my hurting heart drumming with anger. “You didn’t have the balls to break up with the loser?”

She shakes her head but doesn’t answer me.

“Then why the fuck…” I begin, but then a haunting suspicion hits me like a punch to the gut, and I fall silent, horror dawning. It’s too awful to think about. Too perverted. But…

Shetold Silas when he asked. She told him those two names, and I don’t know why I didn’t make the connection. How could I be that fucking blind? Maybe I didn’t want to see it. Or maybe I was just so horny, my fucking brain didn’t work, but it works just fine now. And I hear the echo of her quiet voice as she admitted it.

Michael and Greg.

Michael. Her boyfriend. The one I told her to break up with.

“No,” I growl, desperate for the truth to be different from what I’m suddenly sure must have happened. “No, no, no… Harlow, you didn’t. You called him on the phone, right? You didn’t… go to see him.”

I can’t even swallow, my throat is so tight as I wait for her answer. Harlow exhales, lowering her head even more.

“I wanted to do the right thing, you know?” she says, words falling out in a rush now that she’s finally talking. Except I want her to stop. I don’t want to hear it. It’s too fucking awful. “I thought I was being a good girlfriend. Doing it in person, but… He didn’t like me breaking up with him.”

She laughs shakily, and I grit my teeth so hard, a sharp pain tears through my jaw. When she whimpers in surprise, I realize I’m gripping her too hard, so I force myself to let go and step back, breathing hard. My clenched fists are at my sides, nails digging into my palms as I vibrate with fury.

Harlow stands alone, her arms around herself, shaking wildly. She doesn’t turn to me when she speaks again.

“And Greg was there, still salty after I walked out on him in the middle of fucking a few months earlier. They were drunk, but not too drunk to… Yeah. It happened fast, if that’s any consolation.”

I can’t handle it. Fuck, I’ve gone through so many fucked up things, butthis? I can’t bear it. I hide my face in my hands, shaking, as hot anguish rises in my chest until I can’t hold it back. I sob, my face wet, and Harlow turns but doesn’t touch me as I struggle to contain my tears. She should be the one crying, for fuck’s sake. Not me.

“I heard the sirens when I was walking back home,” she says hoarsely, like it’s a struggle to continue. “I cried in my bed, just waiting for Noah to come home… He didn’t. Instead, the police came. And you know what’s funny?”

I look up, jolted by that word.Funny. As if anything about this could be worth alaugh.I stare at her, taking in the tension around her brown eyes, the slightly scowling tilt to her mouth, the way her jaw works. She looks like she’s about to lose it, and I try to calm the fuck down so I can at least be there for her.

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