Page 79 of Wait For It

When she saw me, the ghost’s mouth fell open in shock, but she didn’t come any closer. A twig snapped on the ground from somewhere behind me. Her eyes slowly moved up, taking it in.

It wasn’t just me anymore—she could see the monster too.

“Listen to me,” she commanded, lowering herself into a crouch. “You’re the only one who can end this.”

“I can’t—”

“It will only get worse unless you can remember who you are and why you left that night. There was a reason, Ari!”

The monster slid around the front of the vehicle faster than I would have imagined, approaching the ghost with a wide grin.

But there was nothing happy in the dark red blood that ran from its teeth, coating its chin and neck. This was a shark in search of a meal. The ghost knew it, but she didn’t run. Instead, she straightened and matched its menacing grin with one of her own.

“Ari, you take down a monster by exposing it,” the ghost stated before taking a step forward. “Let the world see the truth, and it loses its power.”

“Daughter,” the monster drawled in Tristan’s voice before raising its fist. “Such sin lives within you—”

“Ashlynn!” I screamed, but it was too late. The monster’s arm came down on her, and everything went black.

This time, I didn’t have to see to know that I was alone again.

A hand squeezed mine,pulling me from the nightmare. “I’m here—it’s okay.”

“Killian,” I groaned, before cracking one eyelid open. It felt as though I’d been hit by a truck—or perhaps an entire fleet of trucks. Aching muscles engaged as I stretched and turned toward—not Killian.

Tristan’s gaze narrowed as he looked me over, making the three deep lines on his forehead more pronounced.

Three meant trouble.

His eyes moved over my face once and then twice before he asked the inevitable. “Who’s Killian?”

Shit.

The thought registered, and my lips parted in surprise. I couldn’t see myself, but I imagined my eyes were probably as round as saucers too.

My forbidden curses had always been more along the lines of—shoot,darn it, or—if the situation called for it—a well-timedheck. They were never spoken aloud but had always given me a little thrill when they popped by for a visit.

Shit wasn’t an Ariana word, though. Shit was a Killian word—something that I found strangely comforting. Almost as if the man in question was right here, giving me the strength I needed to face Tristan.

“Killian was the one who helped during Ariana’s seizure.” Tiffani’s voice shook with emotion as she approached the bed with a reverence most people reserved for altar calls.

Seizure?

I frowned my confusion, wondering if Tiffani had been desperate enough to get Tristan here under false pretenses.

I hadn’t had a seizure, I’d been—I hesitated, my mind still loud with the voices of ghosts and monsters.

Well, I’d been—shit.

So, there were a few holes in my memory. Nothing I couldn’t fix. I started with yesterday morning and began working my way forward, trying to grasp where things might have gone wrong.

There were Georgia’s travel magazines. Then I was being dog-piled—literally— by the sweetest little puppies known to man.

I can’t pretend that this doesn’t mean anything. I know I’m probably messing it all up by admitting that I want to be with you.

My pulse sped at the memory of his confession, waking the butterflies that had been slumbering in my stomach. He’d kissed me, or perhaps I’d been the kiss initiator. Regardless, our lips had touched in the culmination of a decade-long fantasy.

And, judging by the bulge I’d noticed in his sweatpants afterward, it appeared as if Killian hadn’t been bothered by my lack of experience.

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