I wet my lips, my mouth too dry. “Tell me about the fight between you and Holden. The one where you found us at the dead tree.”
His nearly transparent frame stiffens. “I punched him,” he says, matter of fact. Just like Tyler would. “I fought for you. To keep you.”
With a shiver, I nod. “Yes, you did.” I swallow. “Now tell me what happened right before Holden was shipped off to boarding school.”
Confusion settles in the lines of his face. “I . . . don’t remember.” A deep ache pinches my heart.
Turning to face him, I say, “I need to get something.” He tilts his head, but I don’t give him the chance to ask as I rush from the bathroom.
Casting a glance at Holden, I push a relieved breath past my lips. His eyes are closed, his breathing shallow as his chest slowly rises and falls. I can’t believe he passed out already. But I’m thankful. I need to do this on my own. Locating my pack in the dark, I reach down and grab my phone from the side pocket.
I’d already begun to question, but a part of me is still scared. Scared to accept what I fear is the truth. If I do, I’ll have to admit that all this time, I’ve been alone. And that is beyond painful. And fucked up. It would mean that I really need help.
With purposeful, light steps, I find my way to the bathroom and Tyler waiting for me. At the doorway, I look into his eyes. His dark, chocolate eyes. The eyes of my best friend. The man I could have married and had a fulfilling life with. And then I bring the phone from behind my back and snap a picture.
The flash brightens the small room, and Tyler’s head jerks back. “What the hell, Sam?”
From the beginning, when I first started my research into the field of specters, one thing stuck with me. One thing I, for some reason, was always too afraid to attempt. Maybe because I didn’t want the truth. Maybe I’m better at lying to myself than I am at convincing others.
But, the specialists claim a dark entity can be captured with flash photography. And for a specter like Tyler, one that is very present, his spirit should appear in a photo. I never needed the proof before, because I told myself it was all bullshit. I already had all the proof in the world.
Holden’s words, though . . . his proof? Makes more sense. I want to believe Tyler’s not stuck here on this plane, or fading into limbo. I want to free us both from the darkness.
With a shaky hand, I turn my phone around and look at the screen.
A hotel bathroom.
No Tyler. No aura. No dark entity.
“Sam.” Tyler’s voice slices through me. “I told you. I’d stay as long as you needed me.”
An ache builds in my chest, suffocating me. I breathe through the searing. “I know . . . and you did.” A tear releases from the corner of my eye. “And I think . . . I’m okay now.” I smile.
His full lips stretch into a sad smile. “You are. And I promise I’m somewhere good. And no matter what, I’ll always love you.”
Hot tears spill from my eyes. I shut them, releasing more down my cheeks, and when I open them, Tyler’s fading. His aura growing dimmer until finally he’s gone. “I’ll love you, Tyler. Forever.” I hold out my hand to the emptiness of my mind. “Goodbye.”
HOLDEN
Resting my temple against my fist, I stare down at Sam as she sleeps. Her hair is spread over the pillow, and she releases little clipped snores that are so adorable I can’t help the dumbass smile on my face. Oh, I’m a total creeper. But I’m owning it. On a full-on high, and I’m going to watch her and touch her until she’s sick of me.
But right now, nature calls, and my morning wood that went from firm to rock hard the moment I woke with her in my arms is becoming painful. Easing out of bed so I don’t wake her, I drop my feet to the floor and then saunter, like the sex god that I am, to the bathroom.
Memories of last night replay in my head. Vivid images of Sam. Hot as hell. We have shit to discuss today. Lots of shit. But for right now, I just want to enjoy her. Not worry about how I’m going to see her when I live more than four hours away. I mean, if she’s taking her meds, and she’s getting better, she’ll want to go back to college. And she should.
Then there’s still the issue of my brother’s ghost. Even though last night she committed herself to getting well, she’s not there yet. It’s going to take time. And therapy. I’ll be there for her, but I know this will be a battle.
And then . . . there’s the real shit. The stuff I’ve kept from her. Stepping away from the toilet, I brace my hands on the counter and stare at myself in the mirror. Fuck. I’m a bastard. An evil one. But I’ve kept things from her for so long, I can’t stomach her finding out now. I can’t lose her.
Because when she does know, she’ll want to get as far away from me as she can.
It’s only a matter of time, though. I can’t continue on like this. I don’t want to keep lying to her. Shit. I slam a fist against the counter.
My fucked up brain has effectively ruined any chance at a good day with her. Shaking my head, I push off from the counter and curse.
As I enter the room, I search the floor for my bag. Leaning over next to the desk, I dig through it, then slip on a pair of boxers. My sight lands on a small noteb
ook lying on the desk chair. More of Sam’s sketches, maybe. I pick it up and thumb through the pages. Pages and pages of scrawl.