Page 95 of The Curse of Redwood
“I hadn’t been the one to kill Philip, but I’m the one he blames,” Zeke explained. “The curse forces loved ones to turn on each other by bringing out the deepest, darkest part of our souls. They suffer the same fate as Philip, a victim of my cowardice.”
“I’m not excusing what you did,” I said, approaching him at the window. “But I understand why you did it. If I was in your shoes, I don’t know what I would’ve done.”
Zeke moved his hand to my side. “You would’ve never let the man you loved die without a fight. Even if it meant you’d die right alongside with him, you would’ve never stood by like I did and watch. I often wish I could go back and change things. If I had fought harder, could I have saved his life? Could we have escaped and lived out our days elsewhere? These are questions I’ll never know the answers to.”
“There’s no sense in dwelling on it,” I said. “No matter how much you think about it, you can never go back.”
“I know.”
Silence passed between us.
“What about Lady Death?” I asked. “Where does she fit in all of this? It’s like a curse within a curse.”
“Elizabeth Shaw was the first victim of the curse,” he answered, stepping away from the window. He lit the oil lamp on the bedside table, chasing away some of the shadows that had been creeping in. “She moved in a year after my father’s death and killed her two children, a horrific and unforgivable crime. Some say a deed so wicked had summoned a demon that took over her soul. Now she exists as an omen, forever damned to bring misery on others.”
“How did your father die?” I asked.
“Shot himself. He took his pistol off the wall, walked into the woods, and put a bullet in his skull. Or so the stories claim.”
“What did you do? Were you the one who found him?”
Blue eyes darted to mine before looking away. “I was already dead when he met his end. I know you’re about to ask how…” Zeke vanished and reappeared by the tall wardrobe, putting distance between us. “After Philip’s death, my emotionless façade broke and I fell to my knees beside his bloodied body, pulled him to my chest, and cried. I begged for forgiveness. I told him I loved him. But it was too late. He was gone and there was nothing I could do.”
His body flickered as he lost focus. Grief crashed into him as he quietly whimpered, and I was afraid he’d revert to the ghostly form he’d taken before. I went over and put a hand on his arm. He snapped his head toward me, and his eyes—which had been paling in that unsettling shade—darkened once more.
“Don’t leave me again,” I said, my throat tight.
Zeke stepped into my embrace and rested his head against mine. “You ground me, Carter. I will not leave you.”
“Good.” I kissed his hair and rubbed my hands up and down his arms, thankful I could actually touch him. I’d been able to pull him back before he’d gone too far into his grief. “You don’t have to tell me.”
“No. I want no more secrets between us,” he whispered, as he trembled in my arms. It was rare for me to be the one holdinghim, but that’s what he needed in that moment. I needed it too. “My father locked me in one of his secret rooms. He couldn’t risk me leaving and smearing his good name any more than it already was, you see. So, he forced me to stay there, like a prisoner. It eventually became too much. Not the confinement… the sadness. I saw Philip everywhere I looked. When my eyes closed, he was right there staring at me, asking me why I let him die. I will spare you the details of my death, for it is bloody, and perhaps a bit embarrassing now that I look back on it.”
“Embarrassing?” I asked.
Zeke gave me a thin smile and brushed my bangs from my forehead. “I paid homage to Shakespeare and stabbed myself in the heart with a knife. I was always one for the theatrics.” A light chuckle rumbled in his chest. “I suppose it’s fitting. I once compared you to Romeo, and here I am like Juliet.”
“That’s not funny. You shouldn’t joke about your death.”
“Then why are you smiling, little dove?” he asked, as his lips curved up even more.
“Because you are,” I said, playfully shoving him away. “I’m a chain reaction smiler.” Even though the truth had been deeply disturbing, it felt great to finally have everything out in the open. No more secrets between us, just like he’d said. “I have one more question.”
“Of course you do.”
“Where is Philip buried?” I averted my eyes as I asked it. “Callum said the ritual will work best if he has the bones of the ghost he intends to banish.” When he didn’t respond, I peeked back only to see him frowning. “I’m sorry for asking, I just—”
“Behind the gazebo,” Zeke said sadly. “A thorn bush grew over his grave. I tore it down once, and it came back. One of the very few things to grow on this property.”
“I hate to even say this, but is it okay if I dig—”
“I will do it,” he said, pinning me with a hard stare. Then, his eyes softened. “I refuse to subject you to something so morbid. I’ll gather what you need.”
My stomach picked that moment to roar its protest. I hadn’t eaten since breakfast at Ben’s house.
“Hey, do you remember where I put my backpack?” I asked, sweeping my gaze around the room. “I had it with me earlier.”
“What’s in the backpack? More fun surprises?”
