Page 54 of Petrify

I paste on a saccharine sweet smile. “Sure.”

His stare bores into me all the way out the door.

Chapter 25

The Ghost

I thoughtI got rid of him for good when he conveniently almost lost his hand in the car’s engine. I never need to venture into the garage, but I made an exception that afternoon.

I see the injury was not grave enough.

He didn’t get the message. And when he touches heragain?—

She’s only humoring him. I know she’s not interested, and this is the only thing that keeps me from doing graver harm. She brushes him off, and she never shows up for dinner.

He doesn’t know her like I do. He hasn’t tasted her. He doesn’t understand the music that is trapped inside of her.

No one understands, like I do, how souls call to each other. Ever since she arrived on our doorstep, hers has been screaming my name.

Chapter 26

The Pianist

The next timehe comes to me, I am in the bath after dinner, soaking away the weary ache in my limbs, submerged except for my face and my knees, totally weightless. I get that feeling again, that there are eyes on me.

And when I open mine, there he’s standing, at the foot of the tub. White mask staring at me, the deep brown eyes behind hooded with want.

I’m not sure where he comes from, how he gets into each room like heisa ghost, appearing from seemingly nowhere. Stunned, I stare back at him for a moment.

And then he’s getting in the tub, clothes and all, kneeling between my legs. Water goes sloshing over the side.

“Bastien, it’s not night?—”

He grabs my face with one hand roughly, and his lips are on me, lifting the mask just enough to free his mouth. The glimpse of even this much of his face has me frozen in shock. He shoves his tongue past my lips, fighting with my own, tasting of something sweet. Instantly devouring me, his mouth moves against mine with a sort of frenzy so addictive I give it right back.

And then he’s shoving my head under water, just past the surface, his mouth still attached to mine, kissing me in thewater, kissing me as he knows my air is running out, kissing me while holding my life in his hands.

A bright burst of panic squeezes my chest, and I clutch at his arms, his shirt, trying to wriggle out from under him, but he has me pinned between his body and the porcelain of the tub, biting at my lip with sharp teeth, water rushing into my mouth, my lungs beginning to burn with a desperate need forair.

I smack at him, thrashing, and then he’s hauling me out of the tub as I suck in oxygen, limp in his grasp. Water splatters all over the floor. My sputtering cough echoes, just as he sets me on my feet at the sink, facing the mirror. He kicks my feet apart.

“Bas—”

“I don’t feel like talking,” he says, voice low and laced with a hint of warning.

There’s a rip of fabric. One of the towels. He tears off a strip and moves toward me.

“Wait—”

I’m going to have to answer for the ruined towel, and the water all over the floor. He doesn’t seem to care, moving with impatience, giving me a look before wrapping the strip over my eyes, tying it in a tight knot at the back of my head. I'm effectively blind.

“Bastien, why?—”

“Stop talking.”

I shut up, my mind reeling, my lips bruised and raw from his nipping, my heart racing at the threat of asphyxiation. I’m bare to him, completely naked. My fingers clutch at the sink’s counter top, willing myself to stay steady on my feet.

I hear movement. Feel the fluttering of his fingertips on my hips, my thighs. Before I can help it, a sigh slips past my lips.