Page 18 of Haunt

Nellie stares up at me, top-heavy, speared apple in her hand, her lips popped open.

“Don’t we have to pay him?” she asks quietly, body turned to face me, her dark gaze flicking to the vendor, back to me.

I bend forward, bringing my face towards hers, the sickly-sweet apple smothering her scent as I try to breathe her in, “Not tonight,” I whisper over her mouth. “Everything is already arranged,” I smile at the wonder in her gaze, dark brown eyes, the bitter chocolate colour circled in a ring of oozing, coal black. “Go wild, Little Lamb, all of this is for you.”

My lips brush hers, very muchnota kiss. Something I am desperate for but cannot bear to give into yet. If I do, it is possible she will destroy me with it. I find myself unable to know how far is too far when it comes to this perfect girl. And I don’t like to hold myself back. I want to devour her all the way down to her skeleton, take every organ between my teeth and leave a scar of me in each.

She drops her gaze almost nervously, which is ridiculous, this woman is not shy. She is wicked and vile and ruthless. Deadly.Just like me.Nevertheless, I find her shyness intriguing all the same. Captivating. I am enthralled.

“Come, Nellie,” I say, glancing over her head at everything ahead of us, she leans in, caught in my web, and a smirk kicks up my lips. “Don’t you want to play some games?” I tease, lapping the flat of my tongue up the rounded side of her apple.“Play with me, Little Lamb.”

I feel her turn, her hand tightening around mine, then she pulls me with her. Light giggle leaving her lips before her pout is suctioning to the candied fruit held in her other hand. She skips down the streets, in awe of the lights, the stalls, and it isexactlylike the last time. Childlike wonder, happiness, joy, I am amazed by how everything is so incredible to her. It is as though she hasn’t lived. Even now, at twenty-two, it feels like she hasn’t seen anything. Done anything. Everything taken away from her.

And I’m about to snatch any and all of her remaining opportunities away, too. Plunge her into a life of living inside an elaborately designed prison. Trapped inside a gothic manor with my brothers.

With me.

I should feel something.

Some sort of guilt.

But I don’t.

After a while, we stop at a booth, a woman in a witch costume behind the counter smiles when we approach. I stare at her staring at my girl, and I wonder what the fuck she’s looking at. When I drop my gaze, Penelope’s green-stained lips are popped open, her eyes wide. I follow her gaze, a frown line forming between my dark brows. There are hanging ropes of toys, all colours, all kinds, unicorns, ponies, cats, cute and fluffy and kind of gross. I feel my top lip pull up a little as I stare at them, trying to understand why anyone would want one, when she tugs on my hand, yanking at my arm in its socket.

“Billy,” she breathes, my eyes on her, she slowly drags her gaze to mine, neck arched, throat exposed, I want to sink my teeth into it. “I want that one,” she says quietly, a small smile on her dark green lips, her white teeth stained from the apple she devoured, too.

I look up, follow the direction of her pointed finger, and… “I have no idea what it is you’re showing me, Penelope.”

She laughs loudly, a quick bark of laughter as I shake my head. An explosive giggle peels out of her, her free hand curls around my forearm, our other hands already interlaced, she pulls herself into my side. Her warm body feels too fucking perfect wrapped around me like this, no force.

I’m going to miss it.

She’s going to hate me.

She stares back at the stall. Colourful balloons stuck to the back wall, darts in baskets.

“I want the goat,” she whispers, glancing up at me from beneath that thick fan of dark lashes.

I look back, twist my head, cocking it to the side. I finally see it. This ugly, fluffy, black thing with something thatcouldrepresent horns.

“Are you sure that’s a goat?” I ask her seriously, she laughs even louder, and it is fucking delicious.

Twisting her lips to the side, attempting to shield her full smile, she nods, just once and I’m plucking my arm free from her, taking three darts and popping the same number of balloons, red, blue, yellow. She claps her hands as the vendor retrieves the prize, handing it to me. Penelope looks up at me, eyes shining like the moon, and I wish I could hold onto this exact moment, feeling, forever. The fullness in my chest, lightness in my heart. The way she looks at me when I hand over the hairy fluffball like I am gifting her the entire world, when, in actuality, I am taking it all away.

She looks down at it, small thing, in her even smaller hands, and then she beams up at me and I am breathless and falling. And I don’t know why the fuck I didn’t kill my entire family years ago just to fucking claw my way to her.

To save her before condemnation.

“Thank you, Billy,” she smiles up at me, it’s soft and sweet and real.

It feels like I’m inhaling razorblades.

Lifting my thumb to the corner of her mouth, I cradle her jaw, keep her looking up at me.

“Lick my thumb,” I whisper, the Halloween music loud around us, the lights beacons for ghouls in the dark, but her sole focus is on me.

Her tongue pokes out slowly, the tip of it rolling over the pad of my thumb, wetting my skin. And as her tongue retracts, disappearing back inside her mouth, I swipe over her pout. Rubbing away the green tingeing her naturally red lips. She lets me clean her mouth, all I really want to do is lick the stain away, but, despite what we’ve already done tonight,thatisn’t something I can do right now.

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