Page 22

I have never been this confused in my entire life.

Like, what the hell happened last night?

I’m trying to piece together what’s real and what’s just my imagination, but it only gives me a headache. The lines are blurry—so blurry they might as well be bleeding.

As I descend the stairs with Kendra, my eyes land on Ghost. He’s standing by the kitchen island, talking with Dev, who sits lazily on a stool at the breakfast bar like this is just any other morning. Nate is off to the side, quiet, sipping his coffee.

Ghost lifts his head to look at me. He’s wearing his damn mask and a pair of low-hanging sweats, but nothing else. His ink-covered muscles look even more intimidating in the daylight.

“Can’t believe you pulled that,” Kendra whispers, giggling, nudging me with her elbow.

“Wow, thanks,” I mutter, dry. I know she means it as a joke, but it doesn’t help the roiling anxiety tightening my chest.

He’s still Ghost Daddy . The kind of man mothers warn their daughters about and therapists build their careers on.

And that’s what freaks me out.

I’m scared to love him. Scared to let him in. Because guys like him are never good news. They’re never just guys. They’re events. Natural disasters in human form. You don’t date them—you survive them.

But beyond his stature and that fucked-up allure, and even aside our messy history, what happened last night was…

strange. I could swear I saw something scarier than shifting shadows, scarier even than the figure outside the window.

I saw something in his eyes. Not just lustful, not just intense, but something that wasn’t natural.

Something inhuman shimmered in his eyes.

And I hate myself because, despite the way it shook me, he made me feel so good.

But now? I literally can’t even look at him without being afraid of him.

Why do I feel this way?

It’s like an instinct—raw and primal—screaming: Danger .

Kendra hops up onto the barstool between Dev and Nate, changing the subject with a bright, “So, what’s the plan for this big spooky hike?”

Dev bites into toast, and Nate shrugs, still avoiding eye contact. Before I can process anything else, Ghost’s arm wraps around my waist. My breath hitches as he pulls me up onto the counter, stepping between my legs like he’s entitled to the space.

He nuzzles his masked face into my neck. “You slept so peacefully, I didn’t want to wake you,” he whispers in that low, raspy voice that sinks into my skin. My stomach clenches. It feels like his tongue lapping at my pussy all over again. “I was going to surprise you with breakfast in bed, though.”

“That’s so sweet,” I say, trying not to sound too flustered. My fingers instinctively draw slow circles on his back, as if remembering where they clung the night before.

“Last night was amazing,” he adds, his muscles flexing below my touch.

“Mhm, yes.” My voice comes out thinner than I’d like.

His head lifts suddenly. He stares at me, quiet, studying. His silence is heavier than any words, and my nerves spike.

“What’s up with the energy switch?” he asks, flatly.

“No, I just… I’m stressed about going into the woods,” I lie. Which isn’t necessarily a lie. But also not the full truth since it’s not the only reason.

Before he can call my bluff, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out and check the screen.

“Hey, it’s the pretty cute one with the southern accent and scary stories. Just wanted to double-check if you needed a guide for the hike, after all? Or maybe you wanna ditch your grumpy masked party-pooper, and let me show you a good time?”

I can’t help but smile at the text—Mark’s gotten some confidence overnight.

But immediately, I feel the temperature in the room drop by ten degrees. Above me, I hear Ghost grit his teeth as he leans in to read the message upside down. I don’t need to see his face to know he’s enraged.

“You should be glad that flirting with me is all it takes for him to back off your case.”

“Oh, I’m so fucking thankful. No idea how I’ll ever repay him for this overwhelming act of mercy.”

I roll my eyes. “Get over yourself. It’s not that serious.”

“Trouble in paradise already?” Dev chimes in, grinning. “Sounded like you two were getting along just fine last night.”

“Yeah, right,” Nate mutters with a nervous forced laugh. Poor guy. I don’t think he slept at all.

“Eat,” Ghost commands me, ignoring them. “You’ll need energy.”

I poke his chest with a huff. “You eat.”

“I already have.” He sensually runs his palms up my thighs. “Unless you offer something sweet.”

“Guys, come on!” Dev whines, fake-gagging.

After breakfast, we gather our equipment—cameras, EMF meters, audio gear, then change and get ready to leave.

I fix my makeup and throw on something on-brand.

I settle on a pink satin bustier half-corset, high-waisted denim shorts with ruffled cuffs, black fishnet tights underneath, and ankle sneakers.

Obviously, I top it off with my signature bunny-ear headband.

When I come back down, Ghost is waiting by the door, arms crossed, leg fidgeting. He changed into his usual—black hoodie, black jeans with cuts on the knees, and his black combat boots.

“You do know we’re going into the woods, right?” he says, eyeing my outfit.

I want to punch him in the throat.

“I’m gonna be on camera, so—”

“Yes, you will,” he cuts in, and the way he says it makes it sound ominous. Like a threat.

I brush past him without another word, but I can feel his presence hovering right behind me.

We drive to the closest hiking trail entry point, park the car, and unload our stuff. The second I step out of the car, a chill runs down my spine.

Something feels… off .

The air is thick and humid, clinging to my skin like damp clothes fresh out of the dryer but never dried. It smells of wet leaves, rusted metal, and something else—older. Ancient. Like grave dirt and secrets that shouldn’t be spoken.

The forest ahead is too still. The trees look unsettling. I swear they’re leaning in, stretching toward us like they’ve been waiting. Watching.

But the worst part?

It’s the silence.

No birds chirping.

No insects buzzing.

No wind rustling the leaves.

Just a dense, smothering stillness. Not the peaceful kind. More like the world paused mid-breath and never exhaled.

“Okay, I don’t want to do this,” I blurt, already half-turned back toward the car.

“Hey, it’s just the woods,” Nate says, trying to sound reassuring but coming off more as if he’s trying to convince himself. He’s already holding a walking stick like a cross.

“Bun, you promised!” Kendra is instantly at my side, grabbing my arm like a woman possessed. “Don’t chicken out on me now!”

“I don’t feel good. Like, legit.” My stomach churns. “You guys go without me. I’ll stay in the car with the AC on, hydrate, maybe cry a little—”

“No! You’re the star of the show! I need this check!” she hisses.

“Your check will be fine,” I say flatly. “Ghost has a much bigger following. Let him go flash some abs in the woods and you’ll be a millionaire.”

“That’s not the point!” she whines. “People expect Bunny! You’re the face!”

“I can’t. I feel like I’m going to have a panic attack.”

“Take all the time you need. We can wait,” Dev proposes.

I open my mouth to come up with another excuse, but get interrupted instantly.

“Bunny, please,” Kendra pleads, dialing it down. “Do this for me?”

I groan. Emotional blackmail. Classic Kendra.

“You’ll be fine,” Ghost says casually. Too casually. Like he’s enjoying this. “Just remember not to look up at the trees. If you see eyes staring at you, don’t stare back. And don’t run through the woods unless you want to be chased.”

I blink at him. “Are you trying to freak me out even more?”

“Not at all!” He lifts his hands in the air, now in leather gloves for whatever reason. “I’m just warning you. These woods are full of cannibals, ghosts, cryptids… You really wouldn’t want Mothman catching you out here. I hear he’s into pink hair and big boobs.”

“Oh my God,” I whisper, hugging myself. “I knew you were evil.”

“It’s actually West Virginia lore, no need to fear the Mothman here,” Nate responds, all serious and shit, not realizing how unintentionally hilarious he is.

“Why are you giving her such a hard time, man?” Dev asks, half-laughing, looking at Ghost over his shoulder as he zips up his backpack.

“Because it’s fun,” the asshole replies without missing a beat—and then smacks my ass.

Right in front of everyone.

What is wrong with this man?!

“Ugh, I hate your stupid face!” I stomp my foot like a cartoon character, which just makes everyone snicker.

“That’s funny because you had that stupid face between your legs last night,” Ghost retorts, stepping closer.

“And correct me if I’m wrong, but you weren’t exactly complaining.

” His large hand grips one of my butt cheeks through my tiny jean shorts, squeezing possessively. “You even begged for more.”

My breath catches, and I turn beet red. I can feel it.

Nate coughs loudly, choking on an inhale. Dev mutters “Jesus Christ” under his breath like a disappointed parent. And Kendra giggles, winking at Ghost with a thumbs up.

Lovely.

“Guys,” I say, turning to the group, clinging to the last shred of composure I have, “if we get separated, I’m with you this time.”

But before I can even move an inch toward them, Ghost’s hand grips my hip and yanks me against his firm chest.

“You’re not going anywhere without me,” he murmurs into my ear, his voice low and final.

I don’t know if I should fear the woods more… or him.

We follow the trail in a loose formation—Ghost and Dev leading the way with their chunky cameras, Nate trudging behind with a GoPro clipped to the strap of his backpack like a true try-hard, and Kendra trailing next to me, recording on her phone “for authenticity,” as she dramatically put it.

Honestly? It’s boring as hell.

The first fifteen minutes are just dirt, trees, and the occasional polite nod to spandex-clad hikers with golden retrievers and trekking poles.

Not exactly the Blair Witch vibes we were promised.

No paranormal activity, no haunted groans, no ghostly cold spots.

Just a lot of sweat, tangled roots, and me regretting every layer of fishnet on my thighs.

Eventually, we start faking it.

Dev tries to zoom in on a “shadow figure” that’s clearly just a stump. Nate whispers into the GoPro like he’s hunting some cryptid. Kendra screams at nothing and insists it was “a vibe shift.”

And then—because of course —we decide to split up to cover more ground and get more footage.

Kendra, Nate, and Dev veer off to the left, cutting through some overgrowth like they’re heading straight into a low-budget horror film.

Ghost turns to me and jerks his head to the right. “C’mon, Bun-bun. We’ll check that ridge.”

I roll my eyes so hard I nearly sprain something. “Because this always goes well in scary movies.”

He smirks behind the mask. “Relax. Worst case, we get eaten by a monster… Or each other.”

Charming.

Still, I follow him, my heart thudding as we leave the marked trail and disappear into the thicker trees.

The farther we go, the more it smells like damp moss and rot.

Sunlight barely filters through the lush crowns, and fog snakes through the lower gnarled branches like it's hunting something. Or someone.

And this godawful quiet is killing me. The kind of quiet that makes you realize how far from civilization you are.

No distant hum of cars. No buzz of streetlights.

Just my sneakers scuffing against the uneven forest floor as I walk ahead, crunching over brittle leaves.

Ghost’s footsteps are heavier than mine, his Martens thudding against the ground as he sticks close behind me.

The camera in his hands hums softly as it records, his gaze—hidden behind that expressionless mask—never leaving me.

“Stop being a creep,” I say, glancing over my shoulder.

All I see are those dark eye slits, empty voids staring back at me.

His blank mask has always been unsettling in its simplicity, but here in the woods, under the dense canopy of twisted trees, it’s downright sinister.

Inhuman. Paired with his somewhat lanky, yet lean and powerful frame wrapped in a black hoodie, he looks more like the creature in our horror documentary than the guy filming it.

“I can’t stop thinking about last night,” he murmurs, voice dropping an octave lower into that delicious rasp.

I feel the camera slowly panning over my body like a caress, and I know exactly where his thoughts are heading. If he turns it sexual now, I’m done for. I’ll never be strong enough to resist him.

“Don’t get excited, it was a one-time thing,” I snark, too sharp, too fast, without thinking.

His head tilts slightly, his fingers tapping the side of the lens. “You don’t mean that.”

My stomach drops, and a wave of panic rises through me.

“Umm, it doesn’t change anything,” I ramble quickly.

“All these things we talked about on the porch are still the same.” Or rather, they’re just excuses, the armor I wear because I don’t know how to let anyone in without bracing for the moment they leave.

The last man I truly loved—my father—zipped up a suitcase and vanished while I was coloring in the next room. No note. No goodbye. Just gone. I was barely six when my world cracked open, and I watched my mother spiral, raising me alone through the haze of depression and barely disguised resentment.

Now I flinch from anything that feels real… because real always means ruin.

Ghost stands too still behind me. I feel the heat of him, the sharp chill of his silence. The camera is still rolling in his gloved hand, red light blinking, capturing every heartbeat of this screwed-up moment of me rejecting him— again .

“Don’t look at me like that,” I whisper. My voice is too thin, too unsure. “We can stay frie—”

He moves fast. Too fast for me to even properly register what’s happening.

In one second, his gloved hand snaps around my throat like it’s always belonged there.

And in the next, my back slams into the tree, bark biting into my spine. I gasp, but no air gets in, and I look at him with wide eyes.

His body presses into mine, towering over me. I can't even guess what expression lies beneath the white of the mask, but I feel the heat of his rage. It rolls off him like a second skin.

“You almost had me fooled again,” the edge in his voice slices through the haze in my mind, vibrating against my skull.