When it was over, I stood there, surrounded by the wreckage of what I’d done, my hands trembling, the bat still gripped tightly in my fists. The anger didn’t leave me—it just simmered, hot and painful, a reminder of how little control I really had. The pain, the grief, and the rage from the night of their murders came rushing back, brutal and overwhelming. And for a moment, I thought I’d drown in it.
I dropped the bat, falling to my knees and screaming. The sound tearing out of me like it was the only thing keeping me from shattering completely. I don’t know how long I stayed there, on the ground, sobbing like a child.
Eventually, I pulled myself together, wiped my face, and picked up everything I’d demolished. After that I straightened my appearance, putting my mask back in place, and I haven’t been back since.
Until today.
Because of Ghost.
“I went against my rules and met with a criminal today. He’s nothing like you or the people I try to save. Ghost is… dangerous and manipulative. He’s the kind of person I’ve spent my entire career trying to understand. And I hate him.”
I pause, taking a shaky breath. “I hate him because he reminds me of what happened to you. What was done to you.”
Tears sting my eyes when I reach out and trace the rough edges of their names on the headstones.Samuel & Margaret Prescott.
“I hate Ghost because one interaction, one fucking conversation is bringing all of it back. Everything I’ve tried to repress. He got inside my head, and I don’t know how to get rid of him.
“I wish you were here,” I whisper, my voice thick. “I wish you could tell me how to deal with this, how to move on. From everything. My need to understand. My obsession with the criminal mind. My curiosity with Ghost.Allof it.”
I sit there, losing track of time, until my tears dry up, my legs go numb, and the sun sets. The potential danger in this place at night forces me to stand, my body stiff from my lack of movement.
“I promise to come visit you again,” I say. “And it won’t take me a year this time. I love you. So much it kills me.”
My stride is purposeful as I walk away. I leave the cemetery behind, feeling no different than when I arrived. Ghost still haunts me, and my parents remain dead.
However, my time spent with them is a reminder of the thingsthat drive me. Because as much as I want to deny it, anger and pain are the only things that make me feel alive.
Two hours later, I unlock the door to my apartment and step inside. The quiet stillness of an empty home is the kind of silence that’s supposed to be comforting but never really is.
I drop my bag by the door and shrug out of my coat, letting it fall carelessly onto the nearest chair. Normally, I’d hang it up, keep things neat and orderly, but tonight… tonight I don’t give a shit.
My footsteps echo on the hardwood floors as I make my way to the kitchen. The day has been a blur, a relentless onslaught of noise, tension, and fear.
But my time with Ghost ended up being worth it.
They found Anna Lee.
She was dirty, barefoot, and curled behind a dumpster like a forgotten doll left out in the rain. Alive but only just. Her skin was a patchwork of bruises, her body frail from days without food, and her hands trembled so violently the paramedic had to steady her arm twice just to place the IV.
She’s safe now, but the damage is done. Her world will forever be colored dark, like mine and Sarah’s.
Now, with nothing but my thoughts for company, my mind starts spinning. Ghost’s voice is there, lurking in the corners of my psyche, whispering all the things I don’t want to hear. All the truths I’m not ready to deal with. I can’t get rid of him, can’t escape the feeling that he’s still with me.
I reach for the bottle of whiskey in my cabinet, my hand trembling slightly as I unscrew the cap. After filling a glass, I take a sip, the burn of the alcohol searing its way down my throat. It’s not enough to mute Ghost’s voice in my head.
“Geneva. I. See. You. Therealyou.”
I take another long drink, desperate to silence him, to push him back into the darkness where he belongs.
“You’re going to break.”I can see his twisted smile, feel the satisfaction in his tone.“And when you do, I’ll be there, waiting to pick up the pieces. To put you in a design of my making.”
CHAPTER 9
GHOST
She’s fucking exquisite.
Dr. Geneva Lynn Andrews.
