Chapter 48 His Ghost Still Lingers
His Ghost Still Lingers
Enzo to Kai: Is she okay? [delivered]
Tess
“Wake up!”
I’m pulled from the dream, heart pounding, as I’m shaken awake.
Sucking in gasps of air I look around.
Kai.
Kai is here.
I’m not there.
My breath shudders as I cling to him, my fingers digging into his shirt like it’s the only thing tethering me to reality.
I can still feel it—Nikolai’s weight pinning me down, his breath against my skin, his laughter slicing through me like a blade. Even awake, the phantom of his touch lingers, twisting my stomach.
I squeeze my eyes shut. You’re not there. You’re here. You’re safe.
Kai’s hands are warm, grounding. One rubs slow circles over my back while the other cradles the back of my head, shielding me. “You’re safe, Hurricane,” he murmurs against my temple. “I’ve got you.”
A sob slips free before I can stop it.
I hate this.
I hate that even now, when I should feel safe, he’s still inside my head. I hate that I can still hear his voice, still feel his touch, still smell the blood.
Kai holds me tighter, letting me break apart in his arms.
Eventually, my breathing slows. The terror ebbs—not gone, not really, but dulled by the steady presence of the man who refuses to let me fall apart alone.
I pull back just enough to see his face. His expression is unreadable, but his jaw is clenched, his eyes dark. “I hate that he still has this hold over you,” he says quietly.
My throat tightens. “Me too.”
His fingers find my chin, tilting my face up until I have no choice but to meet his gaze. “I swear to you, Tess,” he murmurs, voice deadly soft, “I’ll never let anyone hurt you again.”
A chill runs down my spine.
I know he means it.
I believe him.
But a part of me wonders if it’s already too late.
Because Nikolai might be dead.
But his ghost still lingers.
And I don’t know how to get rid of him.
In the morning Kai’s side of the bed is empty and immediately panic spikes in my chest.
Throwing off the covers I pull on one of his tops before padding out the door, my bare feet the only noise in the otherwise silent house.
I check his office first, but the lights are off. Moving downstairs I come up empty too.
Where the fuck is he?
My hands twitch nervously at my sides as the silence becomes deafening. I can’t do this. I need Kai. Need him to chase away my thoughts.
I start pacing, hoping that will help. (It doesn’t).
Flashes of memories hit me so hard I flinch.
Nikolai.
His friends.
The gun pointed at my face.
The front door opening has me screaming.
Kai appears, his eyes scanning the room for danger.
“Tess? What is it?” His voice is frantic as he assesses me from head to toe.
My bottom lip wobbles and tears pool in my eyes. “Where were you?” I croak.
His expression morphs, filling with understanding and I hate the pity I see in his eyes. He moves towards me, cautiously, before pulling me into his arms.
Only once his arms are wrapped around me in a tight embrace does the fear leave my body.
“I’m sorry, Hurricane.” He places a light kiss on my forehead. “I went out to get you breakfast. Thought I’d be home before you woke up.”
His words are supposed to be reassuring but all they do is make me feel stupid. Weak. I can’t even handle waking up alone.
“Oh,” I mumble into his chest, wrapping my arms around his waist.
Not wanting to appear more insane than I already do, I shake off the lingering tension and smile up at him. “What’s this about breakfast?”
He disappears for a moment, reappearing with a McDonalds bag.
My eyes go comically wide, and a real smile breaks over my face.
“Please tell me you got extra hashbrowns,” I say, bouncing on my toes excitedly.
He just rolls his eyes at me before ushering me over to the sofa and setting the food out on the coffee table. Gone are the days where he’d make us eat at the kitchen table for every meal.
I fill the void while we eat, chatting his ear off about everything and nothing. As long as it’s not silent I’m okay.
Kai indulges me, even chiming in to ask questions about my ridiculous story of the time I went to the wrong lecture at university. (I definitely could have been a doctor).
“Did you schedule an appointment with Dr. Morgan?” he asks me after lunch.
“Yeah,” I murmur. “Turns out she moved to London, so I can see her in person.”
Carina gave me her number—she’s the therapist who helped Carina heal from her trauma. I thought I’d have to do Zoom calls since she used to live in Italy, but fate had other plans.
I’m still not sure how to talk about what happened.
But I know I need to.
It’s not just because I’m pregnant, though that’s part of it.
It’s because I’m scared.
Scared to sleep.
Scared to be alone.
I’m tired.
So, I’m going to try. I have to. I can’t keep relying on Kai to pull me out of my head.
I spend the rest of the day keeping myself close to Kai, never letting him out of my sight. He doesn’t complain. He seems to understand that I need it.
At six, there’s a knock on the door.
Nate and Carina enter with a grumpy looking Cupcake, who wanders around the house like it’s offended him.
“What are you guys doing here?” I ask, looking down at the way I’m wearing Kai’s top, some shorts, and a fluffy blanket like a cape.
Carina grins at me, throwing a bag of snacks at me. “We’re having a sleepover.”
The laugh that leaves my lips is somewhere between a snort and a chuckle: a chortle, if you will. “All of us?”
Kai wraps his arms around my shoulders from behind, resting his chin on my head. “Yep, we’re embracing our inner teenager.”
“But,” I sputter, “you hate having people here?”
Kai spins me to face him. “I do,” he tells me, “but you need this, Hurricane.”
I throw my arms around his neck, holding him tightly against me.
“Thank you,” I whisper, inhaling his soapy scent.
“I love you.” He kisses my lips softly, then pulls back and heads in the direction Nate and Carina must have gone in, because when I turn around, they’re no longer behind me.
In the living room, the sofas have already been pushed out the way and Nate comes staggering in carrying the mattress from the spare room.
“What are you doing?”
Nate drops the mattress to the floor, wiping his forehead with his arm. “We’re having a proper sleepover, Killer.” He beams as he starts arranging blankets around the place like this is all very normal behaviour for a group of thirty-year-olds.
The living room gets transformed into a teenage girl's sleepover dream, with throw cushions and blankets scattered over two mattresses, fairy lights illuminating the space, and a pile of snacks in the centre.
My phone starts ringing.
Enzo’s name flashes on the screen.
I click accept and his face fills my phone.
“Hope you guys didn’t start without me,” he says, grinning uncharacteristically.
“Start what?”
“The sleepover, sorella.7” He rolls his eyes. “You didn’t think you guys could have one without me?”
I stare at him, black faced. “What year is it? Are we suddenly twelve again? What the hell is going on?”
“Well, hello to you too. Should I go?”
My eyes narrow on Kai.
“How have you pulled this off?”
His smile is breathtakingly beautiful in the way it lights up his whole face. He just shrugs at me. “We have good friends.”
I shake my head at him, but I settle onto the mattresses, stockpiling chocolate with one hand while I set my phone with Enzo up next to me.
Nate starts loading up Netflix, tossing out stupid film suggestions.
It’s chaotic, and loud, and exactly what I needed at this moment to calm the storm inside my mind.
Carina’s hand in mine is the only thing keeping me from bolting out of the waiting room. We both know it. It’s why she’s squeezing it too tightly.
Her leg bounces up and down as if she’s nervous, but I’m not sure why she’d be the one worrying. She’s not the one here to discuss being raped—to bare her soul to some stranger. No, that’s me.
A shiver runs through me.
Oh god, I can’t do this.
Nope. No. No thank you.
Shaking my head I try to rip my hand from Carina’s grasp just as a woman, who looks to be in her mid-thirties, steps into the room. Her eyes lock onto me, then widen as she notices the pink hair beside me.
“Carina?” she gasps, hands over her mouth.
“Hi Doctor Morgan,” Carina whispers, looking at the floor in an uncharacteristic moment of bashfulness.
Doctor Morgan rolls her eyes, the corners of her lips curling upwards. “How many times do I have to tell you to call me Emily?”
Carina stands, looking like she wants to rush over to the other woman, but she’s hesitating. Doctor Morgan steps closer, her high heels clicking on the hardwood floor, until she’s in front of Carina.
The two women stand awkwardly for a beat before wrapping their arms around each other.
“I was scared you wouldn’t want to see me,” Carina mumbles.
Doctor Morgan shakes her head, breathing deeply as she steps back. “You know I’m always here for you, no matter what.”
She turns to me, smiling kindly. “Tess?”
I nod numbly, still internally freaking out.
She cocks her head at me as she says, “Come this way,” heels clicking once more as she walks towards the door she appeared from.
My eyes meet Carina’s, and she nods encouragingly.
Inhaling, I step forwards and follow after the Doctor.
The therapist office is neutrally coloured—all beiges and greys—save for the bright blue couch in the centre, next to the chair Doctor Morgan currently occupies.
I settle into the worn leather, the fabric creaking below me.
Picking at my nails I wait for her to speak.
“Why don’t you start by telling me why you’re here?” she coaxes, pushing her glasses up her nose.
She’s pretty. Brown shoulder length hair, wide honey-coloured eyes, and a heart-shaped face. She’s wearing a pencil skirt and blouse—professional, put together.
Meanwhile, I’m in jeans and one of Kai’s tops, knotted at the back to make it cropped. My hair is a mess, falling over my back in waves while hers is shiny and glossy, perfectly in place.
“Tess?”
I shake my head, clearing it.
“I don’t know how to start,” I say, pinching the skin of my wrists.
“Take your time.” Her smile is warm, her tone soothing, but my insides are still tangled in knots.
I stare up at the ceiling, looking at the crack in the paint before squeezing my eyes shut. Then my head swings down and I blurt, “I might be pregnant with my rapist's baby.”
Silence.
I force myself to look at her.
Doctor Morgan's expression remains composed, but her eyes soften with something I can’t quite name—understanding, maybe, or sorrow.
She doesn’t recoil. She doesn’t rush to fill the silence with empty platitudes.
Instead, she leans forward slightly, resting her hands gently on the notepad in her lap. “That’s a lot to carry on your own,” she says, her voice low and even. “Thank you for telling me.”
The lump in my throat tightens. I dig my nails into my palm, half expecting her to look at me differently now—to see me as tainted, broken.
But she just waits, patient, steady, as if giving me space to breathe.
“How are you feeling about that?” she asks, no judgment in her tone. Just an invitation.
I let out a shaky breath. “I don’t know.” The truth comes out as a whisper. “I don’t even know what I want.”
Doctor Morgan nods, as if she understands that too. “Then let’s figure it out together.”
By the time I finish telling her the abridged version of my story—skipping over the blood and the murder—I feel lighter. Not weightless, not fixed. But lighter.
And somewhere in the telling, I realise something: based on my cycle, the chances of the baby being Kai’s are much higher than Nikolai’s.
That knowledge has me breathing easier.
I still want to know for certain. But the desperation isn’t as sharp. The need doesn’t claw at my insides the way it did before.
She leads me back into the waiting room where Carina sits, reading one of my spicy books with absolutely no shame. Running over, I snatch it off her. “What the fuck! You can’t read this in public!”
She grins at me, wiggling her eyebrows. “Just looking for inspiration.”
I look down at the book in my hand, then back at her, scared to ask whether the inspiration is for sex or murder. Probably both.
We wave goodbye to Doctor Morgan, after Carina makes her promise to catch up over coffee—hot chocolate for Carina. If I didn’t already know that she was psychotic, it would be confirmed in her distaste for coffee.
By the time I get home, I’m exhausted, the mental tax of discussing everything hits me hard.
Kai’s at the office; I told him to go in without me for once since I’d be with Carina.
The emptiness and quiet taunts me. But I think back to something Doctor Morgan said during our session:
“Silence isn’t the enemy, Tess. It’s just a space—one you get to fill however you choose. Right now, it feels heavy because it’s been carrying things you don’t want to face. But it can hold other things too. Peace. Rest. Even hope.”
The memory of her words settles over me, soft but firm.
I take a slow breath.
Maybe silence doesn’t have to be something I fight against. Maybe, little by little, I can learn to exist in it without feeling swallowed whole.