Page 23 of Boys Who Taint

Ghost

I chugdown my drink and throw away the bottle without ever taking my eyes off the prize.

Aspen Caruso parks her car near the cemetery.

Her red hair flitters in the rearview mirror as she brushes away some fleeting tears and blinks a couple of times, and I wonder what thoughts she just blinked away. What kind of monstrous, murderous fantasies fluttered into her mind for just a single moment?

How much fire can one body handle before it’s bound to set everything in the vicinity ablaze with just a single match?

A smirk forms on my face at the thought.

Perhaps I should pay my respects soon as well.

After all, the dead are watching us.

Aspen

I getout of the car and shut the door, letting the cold breeze of early spring into my bones so I don’t have to feel my body as I walk toward the gates. Every step across the pebbled path feels lighter and lighter, like I’m being drawn inside by the longing for a hug from the one person who understood me.

When I find her grave, my body feels ten times heavier, and I drop to my knees near her name.

Mavis Rivera. Beloved daughter. Sister. Taken too soon by the ghosts you sought to befriend.

God.

It hurts just to read those words.

I brush away the dirt and fallen leaves, but I can’t stop the tears from flowing.

“I miss you too much, Mavis,” I murmur. “You always knew what to do. What to say. How to live your life to the fullest without shame. Without guilt.”

I smile at her grave, hoping she can see me.

“Did you make new friends up there?” I ask, chuckling. “Finally meet the ghost you were trying to chat up through that Ouija board?”

I know I’m laughing, but I’m just trying not to let the grief and loneliness overwhelm me.

To not let the violent hatred for her killer take control.

“I could really use a ghost to haunt someone right now …” I mutter.

The pebbles a few graves down scratch against each other, and when I look up, someone’s there saying a prayer. A pale-looking guy, about the same age as me, with short eerily white locks of hair blocking the view of his square face. But that jawline …

“You lost someone too?” His sudden piercing blue eyes connect with mine, and I’m too stunned to even say a single word.

Those eyes are beyond gorgeous. Breathtakingly overpowering. His brows and eyelashes are as white as powdery snow, creating a stark contrast to his long black coat.

“Um … yeah,” I stutter, trying to gather my bearings. It’s almost as if … I know him. “I’m sorry, have we met somewhere?”

He smiles, his teeth as bright as his hair. “We just did,” he says before he looks back at the grave again.

I nod a few times, and look at Mavis’s grave too, but I can’t help but wonder who he is. What kind of story does he have that brought him here, just like mine?

“Who’s that?” I ask, too curious not to.

He briefly glances at me. “My parents.”

Oh.

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