Page 111 of Hold Me Before You Go

“I don’t want to,” I rasped.

“Then don’t,” he returned, his voice steady as his hand rubbed my back.

But what about all those people, those families?

I’d never be able to forgive myself.

“Can I be selfish?” I asked, looked up at him. “Just once?”

He brought his hand up to grip my chin, his eyes holding mine. “After everything you’ve been through, you have a right to be selfish.”

“Just for a week or so? Please?”

He nodded as he softly said, “Whatever you want.”

I shook my head. “This isn’t only about me, Grayson. It’s what you want too.”

A muscle jumped in his cheek. “Carrie, what I want, you can’t give me. Your soul won’t allow it.”

My heart cried out in agony as another tear slid down the side of my face. I pressed my lips together and turned my head away from him. He let me, his hand falling away, and that hurt too. We stood like that for a few minutes before he said, “Come on. Let’s get some sleep. I’m wiped.”

My bounty hunter moved back from me then, grabbing our bags and carrying them up the stairs. I took one more look around my cozy living room, then into the kitchen.

“This was supposed to be my home, my happy ending,” I whispered to Blue Beauty. I put my hand on the railing, feeling the texture of the wood underneath my fingers. “You aren’t a home without him in it, and I’ll never be happy once he’s gone.”

I looked down, and a final tear fell from my cheek, landing on the bottom stair. A second later, I felt a chill slither up my spine, and I looked over my shoulder to find Ghost Robert in the corner, a satisfied smile on his face. Fear tried to coil around my neck, but instead, I turned away and went upstairs to Grayson—to my real home.

Then, a short time later, I fell asleep in his arms and was sucked into another nightmare.

“Grayson!” I called out, sitting up in our bed.

“He’s not here.”

I twisted to the side to find Robert sitting on the window seat, his legs crossed, dressed like he was going to work. The only difference was the blood splatter all over his white shirt. The bright red was the only color I could see, everything else black and white.

Looking away from him, I gulped, taking in my colorless room. I looked down at my comforter, finding black and grayflowers instead of pink and yellow ones. “What did you do?” I whispered, looking at my dead husband.

He leaned back with a smile on his face. “Did you honestly think you could escape me, Carrie?”

I said nothing, fisting the comforter in my hands as I held my breath.

This wasn’t real. This wasn’t real. This wasn’t real.

Wake up, Carrie.

Robert pursed his lips. “You belong to me.”

Shaking my head, I whispered, “Like hell, I do.”

The kind smile morphed then, transforming into something far more sinister as he uncrossed his legs and rose from the bench slowly. “You really don’t get it, do you?” he asked, his voice vibrating with danger.

My cozy bedroom shifted then, and suddenly, I stood in the middle of my old house. It was empty, leaving nothing but white carpet and those hideous white walls I loathed. For years, I wanted to paint them, but as always, he never let me.

History was repeating itself. This felt all too familiar.

Wake up, Carrie.

Robert came for me once I looked at him again, rounding the bed. I moved, scrambling to get away from him as fear took over. I crowded myself against the headboard. “Stay away from me,” I commanded.

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