Page 109 of Ghost

But now I didn’t know how to bridge this gap. I wanted to hold his hand, but initiating physical contact terrified me. Even though there was less than a foot between us, the chasm felt so much wider.

I cursed myself for being such a chicken. “The girl in my vision wanted to look into the memories of the dead person that she thought was at this house.”

Damen frowned. “Who did she say that too? What was happening in your vision?”

“No, she was thinking about it,” I emphasized. “She was visiting her fiancé, a Mr. Cole, and nobody answered the door. She was thinking about how someone died in his house. She wanted to find the body. Then an old woman came out.”

Julian exchanged a glance with Damen. “Shethoughtit?”

“Yes…” I replied, not sure what they weren’t understanding. “That’s what this is, right? I was this girl. I could feel what she felt. I knew what she was thinking…”

The boys actually appeared to be stunned.

Suddenly, I was unsure. My fingers touched my lips as a sense of impending doom came over me. This was not a good reaction. Even with them knowing about my abilities, it seemed as though I was abnormal. “Didn’t you say that Brayden could do this…” I ventured, trying to find any hope to grasp onto.

“Even Brayden can’t dothat.” Damen’s eyes had taken on a calculating gleam. “I need to see something.”

And without further warning, he nudged Julian to the side and grabbed the bottom of my shirt.

I let out a screech of protest, what in the world was he doing?

“I need to see under your bra,” Damen said, nudging my shirt up. His hand brushed against the skin of my stomach, and his touch momentarily distracted me from his words.

But as the hem of my shirt reached my lower ribs, his statement registered.

“No!” I crossed my arms, pressing down over his roaming hands. “I still have my pepper spray. Don’t think that I won’t use it!” I kicked out, catching him in the shin. “We had an agreement!”

The movement seemed to snap Julian and Miles out of their shock.

“Damen…” Miles frowned, stepping closer to Damen, who was on his butt rubbing his leg. “You can’t just—”

But Julian, instead of chastising Damen, held his hands in front of him—toward me.

“Bianca, there’s nothing funny going on.” Julian’s voice was calm. “While Damen should have warned you, he only wants to see if you have a mark under your left breast.”

I narrowed my eyes at Julian. “What about it?”

Julian blinked, and Miles’ argument with Damen froze on his lips. Meanwhile, Damen turned from glaring at Miles, to stare at me. “You have one?”

He seemed way too excited about something.

“Hold on,” Damen got to his knees and pulled off his shirt, knocking his glasses aside in his haste.

“What is going on?” I covered my eyes with my hands. “Why are we getting naked?”

“Look,” his voice was breathy, almost eager. And I peeked through my fingers. Our eyes met, and he wore a pleading expression.

I didn’t understand. I had given him permission to go out and fornicate, if he must. Why was he bothering me? And more importantly, why was no one stopping him?

“I have a mark here too,” he explained. His eyes moved from mine to glance down at himself. “You and I would have them on our chests.”

I planned on protesting, but the nature of his words stopped my argument before it began. Instead, my curiosity was piqued. And—despite my better judgement—my eyes followed the line of his finger to see—

I didn’t even register getting to my knees and crawling toward him. Nor was I embarrassed as I poked at the tiny expanse of discolored skin at the bottom of his left pectoral. “That looks like mine.”

The air stilled and the world fell away; I couldn’t tear my eyes from the symbol.

It was an unusual mark. On me, I had thought it was a genetic abnormality. It was bruise-like, and consisted of two tiny lines—no larger than an inch each. They intersected, forming a calligraphic symbol. I had always assumed it to be a birthmark, but I wrote off that theory a long time ago.