Page 2 of Ghostly Desires

Sighing, I let my shoulders fall with the realization that I will not be able to get out of this before straightening back and holding my head high. Miles gives me a tight smile and nod before stepping back to allow Lottie and me both to pass him. As I make my way past him, he whispers low, “You don’t have much longer.”

I give his arm a slight squeeze as I fall into step behind Lottie. As amazing as this man is, and has always been, he has no true understanding that my father would rather see me dead than escape his control. His actions over the last year have only shown me this. Confirming what I’ve always known deep down—dear ol’ dad is one of the many villains in this world. I do not know how I’m going to do it, but one day I will bring him to his knees and make him watch as his perfect picture goes up in smoke.

As we make our way through the house, I hold my head high as my soul and heart shatter with every step I take toward the gala and all the lies it hides. The closer we get to the open door that leads out to the garden, the higher my anxiety soars, and the urge to turn and run is beating at my skin as if it’s trying to tear its way out. Lottie floats through the door with the ease and grace of a woman who has never had her soul torn away from her. I stop just inside the doorway, looking out over the many people looking for the man in control of it all.

“It’s about time you drug yourself down here. Your father has been making excuses and is growing tired of it,” Laura hisses from my left side, appearing out of nowhere like the snake she is.

“Is that so? Well then, maybe I need to use the restroom in a major way,” I say in an overly sweet tone.

“You’re playing a very dangerous game, young lady,” Laura snaps, grabbing my arm and steering me toward the open door and crowd of onlookers.

“At this point, that seems like the only game to be played,” I deadpan, throwing on a large, fake smile.

Miles coughs through a chuckle as he falls in-step just behind me. With every step we take toward the door, the higher my need to run climbs. I try to stop walking, but between the hold Laura has on my arm and Miles walking right behind me, I stumble forward. Closing my eyes, I brace for the impact I know is coming because I’m unable to use my hands to break my fall. Only the fall never happens, and for once I don’t end up on my ass in front of a room full of people, once again disappointing my father.

“You shouldn’t close your eyes when you’re falling. That’s how you end up really injured,” a gravelly voice says with such a lack of emotion that a chill runs down my spine.

A pair of rough hands land on my upper arms and settle me back on my feet, holding onto me until I’m again steady on my feet. Tilting my head back, I look up into the most stunning set of golden-hazel eyes I’ve ever seen. He watches me like a predator sizing up its prey. Between one blink and the next, I watch something shift in his eyes, causing the color to shift darker.

“I’m going to let go now.” His voice is devoid of any emotion, and it’s like ice-cold water being dumped over my head.

“Right, I’m fine. Thank you for catching me,” I whisper as shame causes heat to rise up my neck and over my cheeks.

Without a word, he turns and leaves as my father makes his way over to us with a look of thunder shadowing his face. Laura takes a step away from me as Miles moves to stand right at my side, giving the support I need to face the storm that is headed our way.

My father stops just short of running into me, looking me up and down before leaning forward to kiss me on the cheek, then whispering in my ear, “I don’t know what stunt you’re trying to pull, but you are not getting out of this party.” He moves to kiss my other cheek. “If you embarrass me, you can kiss leaving goodbye and expect to be married to whoever I tell you by the end of the week.”

Sucking in a deep breath, I fight to hold on to my raging emotions before I dare to utter a word. “Understood, sir.”

What he doesn’t understand is that I would slit my wrists, allowing them to bleed out as I walked down the aisle than do his bidding ever again.

“Make sure you do,” he says with a predatory smile. “Now let's show off my greatest accomplishment!” He claps loud enough for party goers to hear him.

That gets people's attention as he loops his arm in mine, steering me out the doorway and around the garden, introducing me to people that I will never remember or probably meet again. Throughout the evening, I feel as if I’m being watched. No, not watched—tracked and studied. The evening wears on, and I’ve just finished I don’t know how many glasses of wine when out of nowhere a waiter brings me a glass of water.

Looking at the glass, I look back up at the waiter, confused. He just shrugs, holding it out to me again. I take the glass, but before I can ask who sent it, another waiter shows up with a plate of hors d'oeuvres. Completely taken off guard, I find a chair and take a seat. The waiter just places the plate in front of me before leaving. Looking down at the food and then the glass of water, I once again look around, trying to figure out who could have done this for me.

“Why are you staring at everyone like you're trying to undress them?” Lottie chimes flopping down beside me, scaring my now semi-soaked wine brain.

“Shit, Lottie, you just scared the hell out of me,” I gasp.

She giggles, letting me know she has had quite a few drinks herself. “Oops, sorry. But you didn’t answer my question.”

I look back down at the plate. “Did you have a waiter fix this for me?”

Lottie leans forward, looking at the plate. “Nope, but it looks good.” She reaches over, picking up one of the quiches and eating the whole thing in one bite.

“Maybe it was Miles then,” I whisper looking around for the man.

“Oh no, your father sent him off on an errand. He’s been gone a while now,” Lottie waves her hand in the air.

My heart stutters in my chest because that means I’m here unprotected and have been drinking like I don’t know what could happen. I stand abruptly, causing the chair to fall back and catch the attention of several partygoers, including my father. Who excuses himself from the people he was talking to march across the yard to me. He grabs my upper arm harshly, pulling me into him and turning back to the crowd, he gives a charming smile.

“Looks like my sweet girl isn’t feeling well. I’m going to take her inside to get some cool air,” he says before spinning us both and practically pulling me toward the door that leads to his office.

My stomach spins, not just with the wine, but with the fear of what's coming.

How could I have been so fucking stupid and not paid attention to what I was doing?