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ONE

PROLOGUE

Rhythmic knocking drags my mind out of sleep. It’s an unearthly sound, like bones rattling against wood.

A hangover pounds through my head, and my gut churns with nausea. It’s about this time I regret trying to drown my sorrows in vodka.

I crack open an eye, expecting it to be light. All I see is the darkness of my bedroom until the eerie sound pounds through my eardrums.

Knock, knock, knock.

Panic grips my chest, sending a surge of cold adrenaline. Every instinct screams at me to reach for the knife under my pillow, but my arms are pinned to my sides.

This is his doing.

My stalker, the vengeful ghost.

The sadistic bastard who craves my complete destruction.

Regret washes through my veins like acid. I shouldn’t have gotten drunk. Shouldn’t have jilted him on the day of his execution. Shouldn’t have shared my filthiest fantasies with a mass murderer on death row.

Xero made me feel safe. Maybe it was stupid, but I thought he cared. He expressed his love for me in a dozen beautiful ways. He talked about forever, even from beyond the grave.

Deep down, I knew he was a monster, but I thought he was my monster. I believed his love for me was unconditional. Real. But he's a man without forgiveness. And maybe I deserve his wrath.

But that doesn't mean I won't fight.

Movement in the shadows pulls my attention to the corner of my bedroom, and he steps out of the dark.

The seven-foot-tall specter drifts toward the end of the bed, his eyes shining with a malevolent glow.

My breath shallows.

Is this the night he finally drags me to hell, or will he continue tormenting me to insanity?

That thought slices through my brain fog like a scythe. I thrash within my bonds, wanting to crawl out of my skin, but my arms feel tied to the sides of my body.

Will the ghost pass the salt circle?

It’s supposed to repel evil spirits. I laid it perfectly.Twice.

When the specter pauses at its perimeter, terror loosens its grip around my heart, replaced by a flicker of faith.

The salt will hold.

Won’t it?

A cold wind sweeps into the room, extinguishing any remaining hope. His head bows, pulling those glowing eyes away from mine and toward the salt.

I glance toward the window. When the hell did I leave it open? Is thesalt circle broken?

The ghost advances through my protective perimeter and passes the foot of the bed.

Panic restarts, turning the edges of my vision black. I thrash within my invisible restraints, my mind screaming, my gaze fixed on his glowing, white eyes.

Cold fingers pull back the sheets, exposing my trembling thighs to the cool air. In one swift movement, he lifts my nightgown up around my waist.The pulse between my legs pounds a staccato beat. Arousal floods my clit. The muscles of my core tighten in anticipation of another night of torture.

Terror consumes my consciousness, and my last hope before I succumb to the darkness is that maybe this time, he’ll allow me to come.