Page 169 of Love at First Fright

Then he was there, materialising slowly like watercolour bleeding through wet paper. But… different. Translucent didn’t even cover it. He was barely a whisper of himself, edges blurred and fading, like someone had turned down his opacity to five percent. The texture of the tree bark showed straight through his chest. Even his signature black clothes looked washed out, more grey than anything.

“Sorry,” Bat said, avoiding eye contact. His teeth worried his bottom lip. “I… sorry.”

Relief shuddered through me. My shoulders sagged, and I collapsed back against the oak’s rugged trunk. “Oh, thank God. I thought for a moment…”

“I just needed a minute.” Still no eye contact, still that nervous lip-biting.

“That’s okay,” I said. “Are… are you okay?”

He shook his head, black hair flying left and right.

“We both knew this was a bad idea,” I whispered.

“The worst,” he agreed, finally meeting my gaze.

We smiled then—sad, broken things that didn’t reach our eyes.

“It won’t take more than half an hour to pack up our stuff,” I admitted. “And then… we’ll be gone.”

Bat shifted, glancing away from me, then back again. “Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

“What?”

That wicked grin spread across his face—the one that had me gone for him from day one.

Oh dear. An icy chill crept into me. “Bat… what have you done?”

His smile only grew impossibly wider, canines flashing as he became more opaque. “Let’s just say you won’t be going anywhere for a couple of hours. At least.”

“Bat. What. Have. You. Done?” I demanded.

“Come see!”

He floated over towards Brad’s car, parked in the manor’s courtyard by the gate. My stomach already dropping, I followed him on shaky legs.

I quickly scanned the vehicle, looking for whatever chaos Bat had wreaked. Then I spotted it.

Every single tyre had been slashed. Not just punctured—shredded. Long, deliberate cuts that had left the rubber hanging in tatters around the rims.

“I sort of went all Trent Reznor on Brad’s tyres,” Bat said, floating beside the carnage with obvious pride.

I let out possibly the loudest groan of my life. “Bat… Brad might think I did this.”

I could hear it now: You were so desperate for more time with your little ghost boyfriend you damaged my fucking property?!

Bat’s expression crumpled like paper. “Ahh… yeah. Oops. Sorry. Didn’t think of that. It was sort of a spontaneous act done in a blind rage.”

I wiped my hand over my face, stared at the ruined tyres. Then I started laughing. A proper belly laugh that doubled me over, tears threatening to stream down my cheeks as I imagined Brad’s face when he saw his car.

“Oh, whatever. Who cares? This is brilliant, Bat. You’re brilliant.”

His face transformed once again—that devastating grin blooming like sunrise after the longest night. The sight of it hit me square in the chest, warmth flooding through my ribs and settling in my bones, like when a song hits the chorus and you remember why you fell in love with it.

“And any fallout from this is definitely worth it for the extra hours with you.” I reached towards his hand. Bat closed the distance instantly, his fingers squeezing mine.

The back of my mind raced. “I’ve got an idea.”

“Yes?”