Ghost (The Halloween Boys #1) (21)
And Ames . . . The look on his face was pure fury. Like the day we met when I told him about the cause of my panic attack. It chilled my blood, and for a brief moment, I wondered what lay under the thick-rimmed glasses and shaggy black hair that masked his strong features. Was there more than the mild-mannered doctor lurking beneath his skin?
“Have you received any communications?” Ames growled. “I hope you don’t mind, but I did share your story with Onyx and Wolf, hoping they could maybe provide some insights into resources for you. They’re both very well connected.” Maybe I should have been annoyed that he shared my biggest secret with them, but I wasn’t. My heart took comfort in my fear being revealed. It made me feel like perhaps my shame wasn’t too much for people. At least, it didn’t seem to be too much for these guys.
My previously heated heart iced over as I pulled the envelope from my purse. I passed it to Dr. Cove. “My landlord gave it to me this morning. See for yourself,” I breathed, trying to calm my shaking voice.
I wasn’t just telling someone now; I was showing them. I’d never shown anyone the letters. No one had ever asked to see. No therapist or cop. And what did it matter? They couldn’t do anything. Even now, what could a shrink, an attorney, and a writer do to scare off my attacker? I was screwed no matter what.
Ames tore the envelope open with malice, quickly surveying the folded paper inside. It was always the same. Blank.
When I glanced up, he was still holding it, staring at the white sheet. His face paled slightly before his jaw tensed. Something dark flashed across his gaze as he looked to his friends. Something unspoken passed between them as the tone of the room grew heavy.
“Blythe,” Onyx began, softer than I’d ever heard him speak. “You’re sure the person pursuing you is your stepfather?”
My brow furrowed in confusion. “Yes, I um . . . We had a run-in before I came here. He didn’t hurt me, at least not in any big way. But it’s what drove me to take a million weird turns and end up here in Ash Grove. My phone’s navigation still says this place doesn’t exist.” I gave a weak laugh, but no one smiled. They were figuring it out. Shit. No. They couldn’t find out what I did. If they knew what was happening, they either wouldn’t believe me or they’d be horrified. Probably both.
“Did he hurt you?” Ames said with lethal calm.
My heart fluttered at the tone of his voice, like he . . . cared. It was likely me confusing therapist with more, again. “No, not really. I tripped while running. But he’s here now, so.” I shook my head.
Wolf spoke. “Are you certain he’s acting alone?”
“Wolfgang,” Ames chastised, as if to keep him from saying more . . . but what?
I looked, confused, between the two of them. “Yeah, I mean, I’ve never seen anyone else. I’ve never really thought about it. You don’t think he has a friend helping, do you? Oh shit, new anxiety unlocked.” My heart pounded in my chest as my breath quickened. I couldn’t be sure what happened, but before I could see anyone move, all three men surrounded me. “I can’t breathe,” I rasped. “I hate it when this happens,” I whined, suddenly embarrassed to be having an episode in front of them.
“Panic attacks are normal, Blythe. You have complex post-traumatic stress disorder. There’s nothing wrong with you. We’re not judging you. We want to help. Deep breaths in.” Ames took a deep breath as if to show me how to inhale. It helped as I imitated him and sucked in a breath.
My hands shook as if they were freezing. Onyx enclosed both of my hands in his palms, giving Ames a look. With a short nod, Onyx got whatever answer he was seeking and suddenly warmth flooded my body, as if I’d just drunk hot chocolate and been wrapped in a blanket by a fire. My eyes drifted closed and my daydream sucked me into its grip. I’m cuddled by a fireplace, clutching a mug of cocoa. I take a sip and nibble at the marshmallow foam. Voices carry in from the kitchen. Men joke with each other while soft, fluffy snow floats out the window. It smells like roast beef and potatoes, and my mouth waters. “Where’s my Little Ghost?” a deep voices coos.
When I turn around, smiling, hoping to see them—everything goes black.
CHAPTER 8
Ames
CAT BLACK SCORNE
Tis the night—the night of the grave's delight, and the warlocks are at their play; Ye think that without the wild winds shout, but no, it is they—it is they.
Cleveland Coxe
It was risky, but I was desperate. Even without the blue dot, I could taste her fear roaming through town. All day, it imprinted on my tongue. Her fear tasted like pomegranate and black tea. Sweet, strong as hell, and intoxicating as fuck. It was all I could do to let her into that shop while Marcelene stood post. The old bat. When the door locked, I was about two seconds from kicking it in when she stumbled outside. I ducked behind a scarecrow and watched for a moment before booking it over to the church. I took the side entrance and joined the boys in the sanctuary. This was one of the only places we could talk, really talk, without the threat of someone hearing. Onyx’s serpentine eyes met mine the instant I knew she was near. He raised his eyebrows. “You weren’t kidding. This bitch is always terrified.”
Yeah, no shit.