Page 1 of Ghosts of Halloween

Prologue

Jack

Two Years Ago

I take a drag of my cigarette, watching Harlow as she smiles at that loser boyfriend of hers. They are holding hands, and I immediately hone in onwhichof her hands he’s holding.

The left one. Figures.

She’s wearing a tight sweater and jeans that hug her ass, and when she runs ahead, excited about something she sees in a shop window, his eyes drop, and he openly checks out her delicious curves.

And then she whirls to him, raising her right arm, the matte black fingers peeking out of her orange sleeve, and the loser’s expression tightens, his open desire replaced by disgust.

The stupid fuck. I’ll rip his throat out.

Because she fucking sees it. Harlow’s smile drops, and she hides her prosthetic behind her back, forcing another smile onto her face, this one fake as hell.

I wonder if I could get away with murdering the little shit right here, in open daylight, but quickly decide that no, I can’t, unless I want Harlow to visit me in jail. No, she’s been through hell. I will not put her through any more.

But Iwillget him. Just need to be patient. I drop my cigarette butt and crush it under my shoe, imagining it’s his face. Yeah, no, that won’t do. I need to actually kick his teeth in.

He takes out his phone and turns away, taking a call. Harlow stands with her back to him, her fake smile vanishing now that he can’t see. She sighs and hugs herself, looking around until our eyes meet across the street.

I wink and wave, determined not to give her more grief today, and she smiles hesitantly, raising her right arm to wave back… before she checks the movement and waves with the left one. I cross my arms on my chest and shake my head, frowning at her. She shrugs to show me she doesn’t understand, and I raise my left arm, prompting her with my other hand to raise hers.

Harlow’s eyes widen, and slowly, she mirrors my movement, raising that cool, state-of-the-art prosthetic Noah got her last year. As she waves to me, I smile and nod, and she laughs under her breath, relaxing. I bask in the warm glow of her brown eyes until her jerk of a boyfriend finishes the call and turns to her. Harlow’s immediately on guard again, tugging her sleeve low to hide the black fingers.

Motherfucker.

I clench my jaw, wondering why she goes out with this stupid fuck. She deserves so much better. Someone who would hold her right hand, and then take that prosthetic off her and kiss what remains of her right arm to show her how beautiful and perfect everything about her is.

I’m that guy. I would do this and more, and she’d never wear that tight expression again if she was with me. What does it matter that I’m Noah’s age? I’m only six years older than her, and Harlow’s twenty. Granted, I’ve watched her since she was sixteen, and it might have been creepy then, but she’s all grown-up now.

Who cares what Noah thinks of me? He’s no better. We do all jobs together, after all. Working with me is what allowed him to buy that bionic arm for her. He should get off his high fucking horse already and stop warning me off his little sister. Because while I’m forced to stay away, sleazy shits like Michael here get to make her feel like trash.

But Noah’s happy she’s with him.“He’s from a good family, Jack. Policeman’s son. She’ll have a good life with him.”

Like hell. I can give her better.

When the jerk says goodbye to Harlow and rushes away, she sighs again, shoulders slumping, and glances at me.

And fuck, but it feels like she’s begging me with her eyes. My princess is drowning out there, and I’ll be her fucking lifeline if it’s the last thing I do. She needs me.

I’m done waiting for Noah’s permission.

I cross the street, raising my arm to stop a car heading my way, and run over to Harlow. She beams when I join her, and I have this urge to just hug her, breathe in the scent of her hair, and claim her for all to see.

Instead, I stick out my right hand, and when she hesitates, I lean closer to grip the palm of her prosthetic and shake her hand.

“How are you, babe? Still going out with that loser?” I ask with a grin, because I can’t fucking help myself.

Harlow laughs and bumps my side playfully, shaking her head.

“You’re incorrigible, you know that, right?”

I smirk and lean closer, my mouth just a breath away from her cheek, my voice dropping to that special murmur I reserve just for her.

“For you, I will be anything.”

---