Page 11 of Petrify

I needed him, needed his favor, did whatever I could to keep his attention, offered everything of myself if only to have the advantage of his affection.

Now the only evidence of our strange connection is the necklace glinting at my throat. A thin golden chain, a small crystal pendant. Nothing fancy—a reflection, probably, of how much he truly cared for me.

It’s been years, and still that hunger blooms within me, every so often. When it comes, it seizes my lungs, visiting me in the night, the memory of my despair replaying over and over again, so that I wake up choking on my own desperation for something I can no longer have, starving for something that I’ve never really tasted.

It’s all I can do to force myself awake, to chase away the image of him in my dreams. I’ve become quite good at it, pushing myself out of sleep and into my body.

It’s no different tonight. Tonight, I gasp awake, flattened against the cool silken sheets, staring at those grinning angels juxtaposed against his fading image. Silver moonlight pools through a part in the curtains, casting a dim glow across the room.

My eyes try to adjust, but there is no adjusting to the midnight dark.

I am suddenly, forcefully, wide awake, my heart pounding in my chest.

The ghost likes cute girls. Might want to keep your eyes open.

Not the ghost of the dead Beauchene firstborn, but a ghost all the same, a nightmare, the memories skipping in my head like a record.

It’s ridiculous. He can’t hurt me anymore.

One of my hands clutches at my chest as if to still my racing heart. I sit up, casting the sheets off my too-warm body, damp with perspiration, limbs uncomfortably restless, and?—

A black figure stands at the foot of my bed.

Tall, slim, and entirely drenched in shadows.

And it’s nothim. It’s not Jason.

I must be half asleep.

I blink, but the dark figure doesn’t disappear.

My mind spins, faster and faster. My limbs are frozen in place.

This has to be a trick of the low light.

Until I see the figure’s headmove. Tilting to the side like a curious animal.

Panic has me rolling over, reaching for the cord of the lamp, pulling it so hard it almost tips over.

But when I turn back, heart in my throat, the figure is gone.

Chapter 6

The Ghost

Never before haveI been overtaken by such a white-hot wanting as when their fingers touched. That boy reached towards her, and she placed her palm against his, so easily, like it was nothing.

Reece. Amaintenance worker.

Touchingher.

He was easy to track throughout the house. One of the few men on staff, he was even easier to find alone.

It was only once his hand grasped hers that I realized, sometime in the last few days, that I’d come to not like the idea ofanyonetouching her. Not until I made up my mind about what I wanted to do with her.

He warned her about me. Perhaps he’s too naive to think I’m real.

Butshewill know I am real soon enough. Soon it will be my fingers meeting hers. Soon it will be her flesh within my grasp. Mine to touch, to take.