Page 72 of If I Stopped Haunting You

Neil sighed and pushed his sleeves up, exposing the tattoo on his right forearm. Her eyes were drawn to it, pulled to the soft brown skin etched with ink.

“I know you didn’t mean it. I know this… us, is new. We can take it slow, but maybe, for future reference, don’t refer to me or whatever we are as a wound?”

Pen smiled. “I can do that.”

They resumed walking up the staircase, their arms brushing as she slowed on their ascent. Pen felt that strange tether at her core, the urge to go to the west wing and the ghost that lurked in its shadows. The owner of the hand, no doubt.

“It’s a terrible idea,” he said slowly, reaching for her hand, “but it’s the only one we’ve got.”

She rocked from foot to foot, teeth grinding as her attention was pulled up the banister to the landing, and then to the churning shadows that led to the west wing.

“I never imagined myself running toward ghosts,” she admitted.

“You’d be surprised how much a person can change.”

Pen looked up at him, her hand tightening in his. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this to you of all people, but I’m happy that you’re the one here with me.”

“That might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Well, let’s get this ghost show on the road, shall we?”

Neil’s features softened. “Remember, I’m here with you. And if you want to leave, if you want to get out of there, just tell me, and we’re gone.”

“Okay, but promise me, if we make it through this,” she said with a blush and a wave of her hand to the castle and their surroundings, “we’ll finish where we left off earlier?”

Stepping forward, Neil cupped her face with one hand, brushing his thumb over her cheek, sliding it down until it lingered on the corner of her mouth. “That’s a promise I can keep.”

Chapter 21

NEIL

They ascended the last of the stairs, her fingers wrapped around his and squeezing tightly. He hoped they could find their answers without coming face-to-face with the woman in white, but he had the sinking doubt that it wouldn’t be so easy. If there was one thing Neil had learned since they’d arrived in the castle, it was that this ghost didn’t care about the time of day.

She appeared when she wanted to appear, day or night, and there was nothing to protect Neil and Penelope from her. He just hoped that they were on the right path, and she was some forlorn lover rather than a murderous ghost. If ghosts could indeed kill.

“I really wish I’d brought white sage,” Penelope said as they stopped on the last stair before the landing.

“If I’m being honest, I thought about bringing some, too, but I didn’t want to be the superstitious person in the group.”

Penelope let out a laugh. “Well, whether or not you brought sage, you were right to think about it because this castle is definitely haunted.”

“Yeah, I was unfortunately right in assuming the haunted castle we’d rented was haunted.” Neil tilted his head at her, and asked, “Do you want to make this fun?”

“This is theleastfun situation. We’re running toward aghost.”

“But if I could make it fun?”

“How do you mean?”

Stepping onto the landing, Neil tugged her after him and toward the west wing. His stomach was a mess of nerves as he glanced over his shoulder, zeroing in on the cobwebs in the corners, and the torn and stained wallpaper. They stopped before the threshold leading down the hellish hall. The hall that belonged to the woman in white.

Letting go of Penelope’s hands, Neil reached out and brushed her bangs from her eyes, adjusting her glasses. There was something so mundane about the action, socomfortable,he was startled to realize he’d love the opportunity to do it a hundred more times.

“Laszlo wants us to use our senses to describe this place, right?” She nodded. “And you’ve been struggling with your writing?” She hesitated, so he barreled on, “Then let’s kill two birds with one stone.”

Penelope shook her head and made to leave. His hands gripped her shoulders, steering her forward.

“Neil, this is a terrible idea. I’m beginning to doubt this. There must be another way.”