Jace nods again, squeezing her eyes shut. I work two fingers between her hands and the rope, casting a shiver through her body when I brush her skin. She steals a glance over her shoulder, desperate to see what I’m doing, but the metal pipe blocks her view. I swivel my fingers, patiently working the knot loose. Luckily, the knot is shitty; Pops must have been several drinks deep when he tied this.
“Jace,” I command her softly, “relax your fists and see if you can slip your hands out.”
She rubs her wrists, whimpering while she briefly struggles before slipping her hands free. Jace gasps, springing forward and reaching out for me, but she just as quickly draws her arms back. “Thank you,” she whispers uncertainly, rubbing her raw wrists.
I’m bursting with everything I want to say, everything I should have said long ago. Instead, I gawk at her awkwardly. “I’m so sorry, Jace,” I apologize, using the only words I can manage.
A single tear rolls down her cheek, her head leaning to one side. With wide eyes, she scans me, gaze flickering with a myriad of emotions. She swallows nervously before speaking. “Where were you?” she pleads, her words infused with painful concern. “It’s beensolong.”
“Here,” I respond, looking away from her into the darkness of the room. The thought I could have tried to go beyond the woods, go searching for her, didn’t strike me as a possibility before now. Guilt sinks in my gut like a stone. “In this house.”
“I have so many questions.” Her voice twists with confusion, her face contorting to match. She reaches a hand out to me but pulls it back just like before. “How does it work?”
“I wish I knew,” I sigh, leaning forward to rest my head in my hands. “I don’t know how to explain any of this, other than I died, and somehow, I’m still here.”
“Why would your pop do all this?” She gestures broadly around us, her hands visibly shaking. “Why would hekillyou? Then try to kill me?”
“Probably something to do with whatever’s out in the woods, but with him, I never know…” Jace gasps before I finish my thought, hands covering her mouth. I snap my head up, seeing her eyes glistening with fear.
“You’ve seen it too,” she says, the rise and fall of her chest speeding up. If I listened closely, I’m sure I’d hear her heart pounding against her ribcage. I turn toward her, realization dawning.
“The monster?” I ask breathlessly. The word seems silly, hardly fitting the terror always waiting for me between the trees. I don’t know a better word for it, though. That’s what itis—a monster. She nods silently, but her terrified expression tells me everything. It’s come for her too.
“What do you think it wants?” Jace inches closer, her breathing slows down until it’s almost nonexistent. Her eyes stare at me steadily, without blinking, waiting for my response.
“Well, if you believe my old man…us.” The intensity of my revelation hangs between us.
“But why?” Jace scrunches her face, mulling it over.
“I don’t know. Unfinished business from the Revelators, maybe? My pop used to say it followed us here from Devil’s Nest. My uncle, Ezra, made some kind of deal with it, or at least that’s what my pops rambles about. It wouldn’t surprise me, though. If anyone made a deal with some devil out in the woods, it’d be him.”
“That still doesn’t make any sense, Cyrus.” Her eyes narrow, like if she can just focus a little harder, all the pieces will come together. I shrug my shoulders in defeat. If there’s a better reasoning, it’s unclear to me. “You think they summoned something out there?”
“That doesn’t matter right now. We can think on it once I get you out of here,” I whisper, lifting a transparent arm to brush stray hair from her face. Jace shivers, leaning into my touch. If only I could feel the warmth of her skin on my fingertips instead of sharp static. There’s so much more I want to say, but none of it feels right in this moment.
Jace shifts forward, yelping as she moves her weight onto her hands and wrists. She falls to sit on her knees, letting out a frustrated sigh. Her wrists curl into her chest, revealing the rawness of her inflamed, reddened skin. Heavy boot steps rattle the floorboards overhead. Tears streak down her cheeks, her head turning to look at me. “Please hurry,” she croaks, barely audible.
“Promise me you’ll stay here until I come back to get you,” I plead, trying to infuse the importance of my request into each word. I fear what my pop might do if she tries to bolt—scared for what I’ll be helpless to stop. We need to have a plan.
“I promise,” she whispers, giving me a half-hearted nod.
“I love you, little doe.” I press my lips to her forehead, as firmly as I can without passing through her. With a final look back, I force myself up the basement steps to face my father.
The words are stillheavy on my tongue as I enter the kitchen, adjusting to the harsh artificial lighting. I suddenly can’t recall if I’ve ever told Jace I love her before. Her bewildered stare haunts me, making me second-guess how I treated her while I was alive. The basement door taunts me. The urge to race back down the steps and cradle her face in my hands is overwhelming. Thoughts of touching her again bounce inside my chest like a match struck in a room full of propane.
In the living room, my old man snores loudly on the couch, drawing my attention back to my barely formulated plan. Under one arm, he’s cradling a half-empty bottle of whiskey, likely drinking straight from it. Flakes of dry saliva form a crust at the corners of his open mouth. Stringy bits of hair cling to his face, wet with perspiration. The image churns my stomach. I’vewitnessed this exact scene countless times, but it never fails to revolt me. I stare at my pop, trying to rouse him with my ghostly gaze alone.
“Wake the fuck up,” I growl, swiping at the bottle and knocking it over. The amber liquid spills onto the dirty green fabric of the couch, darkening it to a murky shade. The puddle spreads, extending to his jeans. The wetness finally causes him to stir.
“Dammit!” he shouts, realizing he’s sitting in a pool of alcohol. He snatches the empty bottle, hurling it across the room. Glass shatters as it crashes against the wall. “Son of a bitch!”
He grumbles more obscenities, yanking at his pants uselessly, as though it will make the wet spot dry faster. I silently hope he has another bottle of liquor stashed somewhere. If not, my plan to get him drunker may already be foiled.
As if on cue, my pop stumbles into the kitchen. Cupboards open and slam shut several times before he returns with a new bottle in hand. The snap of the bottle cap seal resonates through the otherwise silent room. I wonder if Jace can hear everything happening above her.
He swears some more, tossing the bottle cap on the floor before he slumps onto the couch. He takes large swigs straight from the bottle, red cheeks bulging. After several chugs, his head droops, eyes squeezing shut. I creep closer, leaning in to place my mouth by his ear.
“I’ll end you forthis, you bastard,” I hiss. His body shudders, goosebumps rising on his flesh. “Even if it means I have to torment you until you finally drink yourself to death.”
