Page 11 of Ghost

Bea looks at me as if I have the answers to all her problems. Like I can give her the moon and stars. Little does she know that when I look at her, I feel the need to provide her with everything she's ever hoped for and more.Pull your shit together.I pull my hand back, attempting to break our intense connection.

A tsunami of guilt crashes into me.What the hell am I doing?She's vulnerable right now and too fucking fragile. I clench my fists at my sides, my fingernails digging into the flesh of my palms. Then my thoughts shift to Amber, and my mood darkens further. "Eat," I grumble.

Bea's eyes linger on my face for a second longer before dropping to her food as she stirs the contents of her bowl with the spoon. "What's your real name?" she asks.

For a beat, I hesitate to tell her but then decide otherwise. "Foster." Without her looking up at me, I see the corners of her mouth turn up in a small smile.

"I like it, but Ghost seems to suit you better." She lifts a chunk of carrot to her lips and takes a bite. I watch her like a hawk, fixating on minor details of her face. Sunlight through the window highlights her freckles. Her lashes flutter against the apples of her cheeks. "Do you have any family?" she asks.

"Not around here, and my parents and younger brother live out west in Colorado," I answer, finding it easy to share a bit of myself with her.

"Must have been nice growing up with a sibling." Bea continues to eat while memories take me back to my childhood. She looks at me. "You miss them?" I nod. "I can tell." She pauses, then says, "I sense you haven't seen them for a while?" She waits for a reply, but I just stare at her. She’s reading me like an open book; admittedly, I don’t mind. "Don't take the time you have with them for granted. You can't get back the time lost." She speaks with deep sadness and regret that only someone who has experienced loss and loneliness can have.

She couldn't be closer to the truth if she tried. I haven't seen my family since burying my wife. Not that they haven't tried. I've kept them at a distance for a reason. I never want them tainted by my actions. I already lost one person I loved, and I’m not about to lose any more. If I only have myself, then I’m the only one evil can touch.

I shift my attention after noticing the gray kitten wander across the kitchen floor to Bea’s feet and begin swatting at the lace on her shoe. She tears her eyes from my face and looks down at her feet. “Hey there." She smiles and scoops the fuzzy critter up. "You're so soft and adorable." Bea scrubs the kitten's furry face across her cheek. "What's its name?"

"Don't know." I lean against the counter and cross my arms over my chest, thankful for the distraction the little furball is creating.

"How do you not know your own pet's name?" she asks, while the kitten plays with the sleeve of her shirt.

"Not mine. I took him from Mejia's house."

Bea whips her head up to look at me. "You rescued the kitten too?"

There it is—that look she gave me before.

"You shouldn't look at me like that." I feel a gamut of emotions hit my chest like a ton of bricks. I stare at her because I find it hard not to look away.

"Look at you…how am I looking at you?" Bea tilts her head to one side while showing attention to the kitten in her lap.

"Like I'm a good person." I clench my jaw tight. "I am not." If she only knew what I have done and will continue to do.

Bea's eyes fall to her lap while silence closes around us and the air thickens. "Why were you there? At Russ—Mejia’s, I mean?" she asks, never taking her eyes off the kitten. "You don't have to answer that question. It's just… well, if you hadn't shown up for whatever reason, you would never have found me." She takes a deep breath. "I'm afraid no one ever would."

She's right. Mejia would have killed her. Like I'm sure many of his victims did, she would have become one of the forgotten. I clench my fists at the mere thought. Keeping distance between us, I decide to tell her the truth. "Four years ago, he killed my wife." Bea lifts her head, and her green eyes connect with mine. She says nothing. She doesn't need to. Her emotions sit on the surface, and I can read her like an open book too. Her eyes are a wide-open window to her soul. She has questions, lots of them, but is keeping them to herself. "He was sent to kill me, but I hadn't returned from another mission. She died when it should have been me," I confess. "So, don't go lookin' at me like I carry all the answers or I'm some kind of hero, because I am far from it." I hold out my rough, calloused hands. "They’re unclean. Stained with the blood of lives I have taken." I shake my head. "There is evil in this world, baby… I'm one of them."

"Foster." Bea calls me by my name, and I’m not prepared for how my name passing through her lips makes me feel. Like a man still worthy of being saved.

"Don't," I bark, and it causes her to shrink into herself. She frowns and looks away. Once again, I close the space between us. Reaching out, I lift her chin. "Let me see you." She faces me again. "I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be so harsh.” Bea bites her lower lip and my eyes fall to her mouth. I want so badly to kiss her. “Finish your meal.” I take a step back, turn, and walk away.

I head for my bedroom and into the bathroom. Reaching the shower, I turn the water on and strip out of my clothes. The bathroom quickly fills with steam before I step into the shower. The hot water cascades over my body, stinging my skin. I rest my palms against the contrasting coldness of the wall tiles and hang my head, closing my eyes as the water pelts against my scalp.What the fuck is wrong with me?I've known of this woman's existence for not even 48 hours, and she is all I can think about. She has been through hell, and here I am, wanting her in ways I haven't wanted someone else in a long time.

I suddenly sense I'm no longer alone. "I know you're there, baby." Nothing but silence follows, so I lift my head and glance through the glass enclosure to find Bea standing there in the doorway of the bathroom, fixated on me. I face her fully and slide open the shower door. The hunger in her eyes unleashes my want for her as she drinks me in. She walks toward me, each step closing the gap between us. "I told you; you shouldn't look at me like that, baby," I say, as she stops, leaving a small space between us. "What do you want from me?" I ask with a deep ache in my chest.

"Anything you're willing to give." Her voice is thick with need. She reaches out and touches her palm to my cheek.

"I'm not good for you." I keep my eyes locked on hers.

Bea rises onto her tiptoes, bringing her lips a breath from mine. "You make me feel things I’ve never felt before, Foster."

"I want to kiss you so badly it hurts," I confess, and cup her face in my hands. "Tell me no," I beg, fearing that once my lips touch hers, I won't be able to catch myself from falling.

"It's ok." Bea stares into the depth of my soul. "I'll catch you."

My mouth crashes against hers. The taste of her kiss is my undoing. I break away long enough to remove the oversized clothes from her body, then pull her into the shower to join me.

"You are beautiful," I tell her, before kissing her again. I shouldn’t be doing this. Her hands begin exploring my body, searing every inch of skin her fingertips touch. My hands slip around her waist, sliding over the curves of her hips and pulling her body flush against mine. “This is wrong,”

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