Only time would tell.
Ben
Ididn’t bother picking up the key after Tristan threw it at me. If I had, I would have chased him and demanded he take it back. I would have fallen to my knees and begged him to forgive me for every last word I’djustsaid.
I would have told himthatI loved him, and I didn’t know how to go on breathing without him.
The front door closed with a deafening thudthatechoed through my soulless house. It wasn’t a home anymore, not without him. For a few minutes, I stood in the foyer, torturing myself with images of our first kiss.
Unbearable pain seared my chest, and I knew there was only one thingthatwould dull it. Well, two, but I doubted Tristan would ever look at me again. Meaning, I had no choice but to go for the first option.
I marched to the kitchen, yanking open the freezer door, and grabbed the bottle of vodka I’d stashed away when I first moved in. I told myself I’d only ever drink it when my life was bleak, and my future held no hope.
Collecting a glass on the way out, I headed back to the living room, Tristan’s scent wrapping around me like a warm blanket as I collapsed on my couch. In a few days, the new one would be delivered, but I would cancel the order. AndthenI would repaint the walls.
I couldn’t have anythingthatreminded me of what I’d lost.
Downing a large mouthful of vodka, I grimaced at the burn the liquid left behind as it slid down my throat. Before it had settled in my stomach, I poured myself another, tipping my head back as I swallowed it down.
And that’s where I stayed until half the bottle was gone and I passed out.
A bang echoed from somewhere around me. I bolted upright, wincing at the pounding in my head. It took several seconds for my brain to rememberthatI’d fallen asleep in the afternoon on the couch, only now, it was pitch black where night had fallen.
I glanced at my watch. 11:50 pm. Ten minutes until Christmas arrived.
For some reason, this Christmas felt worse than all the others I’d lived through.
Figuring I’d drag my pathetic ass up to bed and sleep off the hangoverthatwas no doubt brewing, I reached out to turn the lamp on, jumping when I discovered I wasn’t alone.
My entire body turned to ice.
Not because of the person—or ghost, depending if this was a dream or a vision—staring at me, but because of the blood staining her white dress, along with the congealed blood around the gaping hole across her throat.
“Not this again.”I jabbed my thumbs into my eyes in hopesthatonce I woke properly, the haunting figure wouldn’t be sitting on the end of the couch watching me with lifeless eyes.
Of course, I had no such luck.
“Good to see you too, McScroodge,”the woman said.Evenwith the blood matting her blonde hair, the two blackeyes, and scratches over her face, I recognized her. She was a former tenant, Danielle Green, who had been murdered a few weeks after I had increased her rent.“You do remember me, right? I mean, it is your fault I was murdered, so I’d like to think you remember.”
“My fault?”
Danielle shrugged.“Well, you didn’t wield the knife. But you did raise my rent ‘cos you got greedy, and it was either sell my body to make extra money or face the oldheave-hofrom you. If you’d kept my rent the same, I wouldn’t have met my pimp, and he wouldn’t have done this to me.”
She waved a hand in the area of her throat as if I needed her to point out what she was referring to.
“Hardly my fault. You could have found other ways to make money. You know, got a second job like most people do.”I scrubbed a hand down my face. The irony isthatI hadn’t wanted to increase Danielle’s rent.Thathad been Jake’s idea after she refused to fuck him.“What do you want? Are you here to give me some more wonderful reminders of my fucked up past?”
Malice glinted in her eyes.“Nope. You had your warning. You had a chance to make your life and those around you better. But youjusthad to go and fuck it up, didn’t you? So I’m here to show you what awaits.”
Without warning, she dived for me, her freezing hands cupping my cheeks. The room around me began to spin, the light fading, the walls shrinking. The pounding in my head worsened as nausea spun like a washing machine in my stomach.
Justwhen I thought I was about to vomit, Danielle released my cheeks. The room stopped spinning, and my head and stomach settled. My gaze darted everywhere when I realized we weren’t in my living room any longer.
“Where are we?”
“Look around, McScroodge. Take itallin, because this is your life, one year for now,”Danielle replied gleefully.
Making the mistake of inhaling a deep breath, the grim scent of mold filled my nostrils before hitting the back of my throat and making me cough. I glanced around the tiny room. My lips turned down in disgust at the small kitchenette in one corner. The fridge was covered in grime while cupboard doors hung off their hinges.
