Chapter 15 – Rae
The last stop on the Boston ghost tour was a historic farm that boasted of a skirmish in ye olden days.
“Y’all think any of the dead soldiers will rise from their graves?” I asked the group of college age kids with whom I’d struck a friendly rapport.
“Nah,” Brad huffed. “Not unless they animatronically raise one.”
Gavin turned a shade of green. He really shouldn’t have come to something like this. But Amy clapped her hands eagerly, bouncing in her seat.
“I need a good scare tonight!” the screamer insisted. “Something that will really get me fired up.”
Amy winked at Gavin, who gave her a shaky smile.
Yeah, there was no way in hell he was going to be the dominant she was hoping for. That girl needed to be chased, tied, and ravished, and poor Gavin wasn’t quite up to the task.
The bus pitched forward as the brake was applied.
I jolted in my seat, but even the stinking caravan of tourists couldn’t wipe the smile off my face.
So far, tonight had been a blast! Even if it was gimmicky and designed to bring in the travelers’ cash, it was different.
Granted, there was a bit of Revolutionary War history in Georgia, but not like up here.
“Maybe this stop will be real.” I wagged my brows at the group. “The souls of the dead might be restless with the full moon.”
“Exactly!” Brad grinned. “They saved the best for last!”
“Goodie!” Amy cheered.
Gavin gagged.
Glancing at the moon through the cloudy window, I shivered in anticipation.
I shuffled off the bus, confident the nerves playing like banjo strings inside me would pass.
My stomach was tight with knots, which had nothing to do with the questionable street tacos I’d scarfed down at the tin stand earlier. Those had been delicious.
We gathered around the host and his pretend wife, who were both dressed in period costumes. The woman held a lantern.
“One if by land, two if by sea,” someone told their friend in the crowd.
An owl screeched in the distance.
We were in the heart of the city, but this ten-acre preserve was a national monument. As we walked to the tiny farmhouse, the noise of traffic faded away. I flicked a glance to the golden orb in the sky before ducking into the two-story home.
“I heard someone died here last year,” Brad whispered to our group.
The others made faces back at him. However, the little fellow, who didn’t look old enough to drink, couldn’t hide the terror from his face.
Poor Gavin.
I gave him a reassuring smile. “None of it’s real, you know that right?”
Amy huffed, which only made Gavin scowl. He slunk behind his friends.
A defined ache formed in my chest. They were fun, but they weren’t my friends.
Reaching up, I fidgeted with the industrial bar that was back in the top of my ear—right where it belonged.
I was surrounded by other tourists, thirty people, ready to experience a haunting, but here I was, standing by myself.
I missed my friend group.
We did everything together. Often, we’d wind up living together for stints at a time.
I debated texting them, to see what everyone was up to tonight.
But it wasn’t like that would change the fact that I was here, working for a brighter future while they stayed, content to live in poverty like their parents and grandparents.
They wouldn’t understand my decision to work for a better life.
And they’d mock you for it.
The host was droning on about the history of the farm. Meanwhile, his wife lit candles around the room. The modern overheads faded out until we were plunged into the flickering glow.
It was going to start any minute now!
I looked about for false panels. Someone was controlling the lights. They would probably make other chilling revelations to enhance our experience. The creak of the opening door made me look over.
Gooseflesh broke over my skin.
How in tarnation….
This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be happening!
Yet there was no mistaking the ghostly apparition stepping into the back of the group. As if he felt my gaze, Nico turned to look in my direction. A slow smile spread over his face.
I shook my head.
Pushing through the crowd, he sidled up next to me. “Evening, little cherry-bomb.”
“Little bomb?” I hissed, wrinkling my nose. “What a horrid name!”
The larger woman in front of me shot me a glare from under her visor. She had no idea that the mafia prince’s arrival saved her fanny pack from being picked.
Nico slipped behind me, putting his back flat against the wall and bent to whisper in my ear. “Since you call your Camaro Cherry Pie, it fit. Plus”—his breath skated over my skin—“calling you my sweet little thief would bring too much suspicion to your terrible little klepto habit.”
I snorted softly. “Well, thanks?”
He hummed. Another exhale fanned over my neck. The skin prickled in response, and a tiny shiver rattled down my spine.
“Okay, next question: What the hell are you doing here?” I snapped.
The tourist crossed her arms under her generous bosom and pursed her lips.
“Sightseeing,” came the dark response. “You’re a hard one to track down, cherry-bomb.”
“If there are any spirits here tonight, make your presence known!” the hostess called out, fully invested in the part she played of old-timey farmer’s wife.
The scratch-boom of a prerecorded cannon sounded from a hidden speaker.
None of it was as powerful as the echo of Nico’s explanation for his presence. My blood ran hot, knowing he’d followed me here. A million good reasons for putting space between us drifted through my mind.
I stepped back, into his body instead. Electricity shot through me.
He stilled, as if surprised I made contact. I wondered if he felt it too.
“Why don’t we pretend we’re just a couple of tourists who met at this lame haunting?” I suggested softly. “What would be your next move?”
“Oh, ragazza mia, are you sure that’s the card you want to play?” Nico murmured against my ear.
I shrugged. “More fun that this lot.”
“Will you two be quiet?” the visor-wearing-fanny-packing tourist snapped. “Some of us want to meet the ghosts.”
Nico stifled a laugh. “Dio sacro, she believes this shit.”
I bit my lip to keep from bursting out laughing.
The group shuffled into the kitchen, which was set up as a field hospital.
Fake blood dripped from the counter. Each sticky drop plunked on the floor.
I winced at the mess. It didn’t feel real.
Too recent experience taught me that blood didn’t make such a neat pile.
Even if it hadn’t, my fingers tingled at the idea of scrubbing it off the floor.
The AC chose that moment to gust through the pipes as the host dramatically explained the first hours of the days-long skirmish held once upon a time on the farm.
A pained groan sounded at the back door.
Gavin looked positively green.
I hoped he puked. Amy deserved better.
Was it very nice of me? Nope. But that was life.
The bang of musket fire made the group jump as a whole. Even I jerked with surprise.
Nico put his hands on my hips and hauled me against his body where my feet weren’t in danger of being stepped on. He moved to release me the moment there was space, but I pressed my hands over his.
“You’re just a tourist, remember,” I whispered. “We don’t know each other.”
A rough, low-pitched masculine growl of approval rumbled from the monster.
Was I really doing this? I should be creating distance! But this wasn’t the heir to the criminal empire and the grandson to my employers. This was the man from the bar. The fiend who’d maimed and slain for me. The Roman god from the hot tub. The first boy I kissed.
What was the harm in a little fun? He’d stalked me tonight. It was nice, even though a sane girl would argue it was creepy, but I wasn’t in the mood to be rational.
“Now…what’s your move?” I whispered.
“I would see if you wanted a real thrill,” Nico murmured and trailed the tips of his fingers up my side.
Something wicked sizzled between us. It shifted through me. Settled in my bones. Made my core clench.
“Of course I do.” I took a deep breath. “But what happens tomorrow?”
We wouldn’t be able to go back to the status quo. The suggestive way his fingers grazed the wire of my bra before brushing down the other side of my ribs said this was going somewhere else—and fast.
“I want you, Rae. I’m not going to hide that.”
I swallowed hard. This was fire. And I was the little idiot ready to play with it.
We couldn’t do that. Could we? It was one thing to flirt, to move around one another with this undeniable pull that was damn near magnetic, but crossing the line he was suggesting would be a monumental mistake.
Is it, though?
My inner goddess preened. He was here. With me. I was pretty sure that thick rod I felt pressing into my lower back wasn’t a husk of corn.
And besides…no one had to know.
“What happens here has to stay here,” I insisted.
The tourists were already lumbering up the back stairs. The last thing I wanted was to follow. Not when there was the promise of more.
“No one will know,” he agreed.
I pursed my lips. It was this place. The eerie night beyond begged me to be reckless. Letting out a long breath, I gave into the animal urge to take what this man offered.
“I’m not letting you fuck me in this creepy, animatronic house,” I breathed.
Nico groaned. His fingers sank into my hips, and he tugged me against his hard body. I felt everything.
“You have the dirtiest fucking mouth,” he growled against my ear.
I smirked. “If you think that’s bad….”
The rest of the group disappeared. I stepped away from him, pretending to follow, but I changed course and grabbed the back door.
“If you catch me, killer, you can fuck me on a grave.”
Nico lifted a finger while his opposite hand began to unbutton the cuff of his dress shirt. “Don’t you mean when I catch you?”
“I’m fast.” And I was going to have a head start.
Nico chuckled.
I fled, leaving behind the sinfully tempting sight of him rolling up his shirt sleeve.