A Fate Unknown: A PNR, Why Choose Novel (The Ghost Girl Series Book 1)

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A Fate Unknown: A PNR, Why Choose Novel (The Ghost Girl Series Book 1) Page 10

by Sinclair Kelly


  The moment she appeared in the study, I knew there was no denying it any longer. While the hazy form made it impossible to discern the color of her hair or the exact shade of her eyes, I knew. Her hair was a deep brown, like the dark chocolate I enjoy so much. Those eyes were gray and could pierce you with a single look. The large, pink lips were tilted into something other than an expression of utter sorrow, a rarity that almost brought a smile to my face.

  That’s usually all I ever remember when I wake up. Her beautiful, devastated face. Aside from that, I can recall nothing. No prior memories of her. No prior memories of us. No prior memories of my brothers. Nothing.

  It’s for that reason I don’t trust her. Can’t trust her. My brothers’ lives are on the line, and an unknown such as our ghost girl, with as much power as she’s packing, is a dangerous thing. There are just too many questions. Why am I always screaming for her not to go? Is that look of sorrow from my dream for herself or for all of us? Maybe just one of us? Is it a premonition of things to come or something from our past? Is it caused by guilt or devastation? I’m not the one with the ability to sense emotions, but even I know that I’m missing something important. We need to find answers, fast.

  Frustrated, I leave the bathroom and head for the kitchen. It’s the middle of the night, and the house is dark and quiet. The stairs under my feet are silent as I follow them down and around, through the foyer, to the back of the house.

  The two sets of French doors on the back wall are the first things I see. The moon is high tonight, giving me just enough light to see the spectacular view. A stone patio sits just outside the door. Though it’s empty right now after being abandoned for so long, it’s big enough for a large patio table and a few lounge chairs. Maybe even a fire pit, though I doubt we’ll be here long enough to get to enjoy that. A massive yard with green grass that seems endless lies just beyond the stone pavers. The old weeping willow, the tree that is somehow linked to her, is off in the distance, the branches nearly sweeping the ground beneath. An old swing still hangs, ready to be put to use. I wonder how many kids have been pushed on that thing? How many families have called this place home?

  I stand at the door, looking out into the tranquility of a cloudless night sky. It’s calm. Peaceful. I’m not sure I’ve ever felt that particular emotion. I’m positive I won’t any time soon, and that’s fine with me. I’ll give anything, do anything, to ensure my brothers get to experience it, and that’s enough for me. Though something tells me our little spitfire is about to turn our whole world upside down, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

  Crying is highly underestimated in my opinion. The release is so utterly invaluable, but no one realizes that until the tears can no longer flow. I wonder how many people out there are physically incapable of crying. Chances are probably less than one percent, kind of like the chances of a smile on Cole’s kissable lips. Guess that leaves little old me. The ghost girl whose tension slowly builds up like water inside a water balloon without the ability to cry it out. How much can it hold before it simply bursts? When that pain can’t break free through tears, how else does it escape?

  I was once a relatively happy ghost girl. I had my own space. My own sense of self. My own unlife - pathetic, though it may have been. Now, for the first time since I appeared here, I’m lost. This connection to the guys is taking a turn in a direction I hadn’t anticipated. I wanted answers, but I only got more questions.

  Are they really the reason I’m stuck in this afterlife limbo?

  What does this mean for me moving forward?

  Who am I, or maybe more accurately, who was I?

  If Cole’s nightmares are actually memories, then I wasn’t exactly human, right? Humans don’t disappear in clouds of smoke. I already know the guys are something more, though they haven’t had time to explain to me what that entails.

  Maybe it’s time I demand some answers from the one person who will give it to me straight regardless of whether the truth hurts like a bitch.

  I sit up and harden my resolve. They aren’t the only ones whose past is coming back to haunt them, and I deserve answers just as much as they do. If they didn’t want to share, they shouldn’t have sought me out, right?

  Damn straight!

  I repeat a new mantra in my head.

  I will not lose my temper. I will not lose my temper.

  Oh...who am I kidding? I’m totally going to lose my temper. He and I go together like gasoline and fire.

  I poof myself to the kitchen and look out the doors at the blackness of the night. The grounds are beautiful in the daytime, but I stopped enjoying them years ago when I realized the sun no longer warmed me, and the yard was more like a set of iron bars than a relaxing haven.

  I spot a shadowy figure that can only be Cole out by the willow.

  Before I can change my mind, I’m standing next to him. He’s staring the tree down like its very existence pisses him off, and it probably does. Everything does. So I stare down the damn willow like it’s personally aggrieved me too.

  “What did this tree ever do to you?” I blurt out, and Cole startles slightly. That makes me smile, feeling a tad bit triumphant. The man is normally as unshakeable as a damn stone statue. I mean, I would’ve loved to see him jump and scream like a girl, but I’ll take what I can get.

  “What the fuck do you want?”

  “Straight to business. I like it.”

  “Didn’t I tell you to leave me the hell alone?”

  “Did you actually expect me to listen to you?”

  He turns to face me then, anger and frustration and something else flashing in those pretty blues. For a second, I just stare at him. I know this man. Maybe not the man standing before me, but the man he used to be. I can feel it in my soul; a little spark of a connection flares brightly every time he’s around. It feels like passion and pain, love and sorrow. It so badly wants to break free from the confines it’s been placed in.

  I ignore the damn thing.

  We’re obviously not the same people we once were. Hell, even if we did remember each other, I’m not so sure new me would like new him. Letting that teensy connection grow once again could be our final demise.

  I let my gaze drift back to the tree, refusing to let those eyes draw me in.

  “It’s frightening, isn’t it?” I murmur.

  “What is?” he practically growls.

  “Not knowing who you are or where you came from.”

  There’s a brief pause while he takes me in and releases a long sigh, turning back to the tree. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him put his hands in his back pockets.

  The silence drags out until I can barely stand it. He drops his head back for a second and mutters something just low enough that I can’t make it out. Then he’s staring at the tree once more with a determined look on his face.

  “I never actually had a problem with that until the nightmares started,” he finally responds. The reluctance to converse with me is evident in his tone. Still, he continues. “I knew they were more than just dreams after the third or fourth time, which meant nothing good could have happened. Why else would I be forced to relive that moment over and over? Makes it hard to keep going when you’re not sure what you did so wrong to get you to where you are.”

  He takes a deep breath. His shoulders straighten ever so slightly, and his biceps tense up with his agitation.

  “There’s a lot you don’t know, Fate. About us. About what we’ve seen and experienced over the last fifty years. About what we’re capable of. If you did, I’m not sure you’d be as eager for answers as you think you are.”

  The Cole I had grown to know would rather stick hot pokers in his eyes than give me even a tiny hint of vulnerability, so to say his response surprises me is an understatement. I want to keep him talking. Need him to give me the answers he seems to think I shouldn’t want.

  “So why don’t you tell me? Help me understand.”

  “I can’t. My responsibility is to my brother
s. To keep them safe. Alive. Until we know more about who you are and what happened, I can’t risk it. I won’t.”

  While I understand and respect his loyalty to his brothers, my frustration begins to grow. Once more, I’m an outsider looking in. Except this time, I’m not just watching frivolous activities and playing games with unsuspecting people. This is my very existence on the line, and I’ll be damned if he just brushes me off.

  With impatience clawing at me, I repeat my I will not lose my temper mantra until I’m reasonably sure I won’t bite his head off - figuratively, of course, because this ghost girl isn’t a fan of blood.

  Once I’m fairly confident I have myself under control, I ask, “What do you think happened to us, Cole?”

  He’s silent for a moment, and I’m totally fine with that. It gives me a chance to appreciate the darkness although I’m almost sad I missed the sunset casting gorgeous colors across the sky. The creatures of the night are starting to quiet down in preparation for the day ahead. How long has it been since I’ve purposefully stepped a foot outside the house? I may be a ghost, and I may be stuck here indefinitely, but there are still experiences to be had in this afterlife, right?

  Breaking me out of my reverie, his voice is soft again when he replies, “We hurt each other somehow. Badly. Now we’re here, like this, because of that.”

  Even though I knew that already, I consider his words and take a moment to search inside myself. There are memories there that are just beyond my reach. That pain I experience that I can’t quite name might give me some answers, but it’s buried so deep that I can’t get a good grasp on it no matter how hard I try.

  “Don’t you think it would be better if we worked together to try to figure it out?” I plead.

  He turns to look at me again, his gaze searching for something when our eyes meet in the shadows.

  “No. I don’t.”

  A little shocked despite myself, I’m sure my brows have hit my hairline, and my frustration surges to dangerous levels.

  “Why do you hate me so much? I’m here with a damn olive branch, and you just slapped me in the face with it.” My voice wavers slightly, mostly from the anger building within me, but also from the hurt I’m trying desperately to ignore.

  “I don’t hate you. I hate how you make me feel.”

  I take in that seemingly innocent statement and let it roll around in my brain. There’s a challenge in his eyes I haven’t seen before. Like he’s begging me to prove him wrong. I want to - desperately. If I only knew why he seems to think he’s so right.

  “How do I make you feel, Cole? Other than pissed off, that is.”

  His eyes are still locked on mine, a myriad of emotions in their depths.

  When his gaze moves to the ground, I think our conversation is over. Then his low, rich voice is rushing out into the night, the words spat out gruffly like his mouth took control before his brain could figure out what was happening.

  “Like I’m on fire every time you’re near me. Like my skin is too tight. Like there’s something inside me just begging to be free so I can consume you whole. Like my very soul recognizes its other half.”

  I’m speechless. These weren’t flowery compliments or tender declarations of love. Just a few harshly spoken sentences, yet he has melted my ice. Broken down my walls. Drained the poison right from my veins, leaving me open and exposed and so damned shocked I can’t think straight.

  I should’ve known it wasn’t that simple though.

  “But you also make me feel like my heart is being broken in two every time my eyes catch yours. Like the very soul that belongs to you is being shredded into pieces and laid at your feet. Like I will burst into flames the second I get too close. I trust my gut, and that’s why this,” his finger moves between the two of us, “whatever this is...can’t happen. Won’t happen. Maybe Macklin was right. Maybe the twins should give you a personal demonstration of their powers. The temptation you offer on an open platter is likely to get us all killed, and I’d rather see you gone than to see my brothers suffer any more than they already have.”

  A slap across the face would’ve been less harsh than those words. He lured me in. Hooked me. Then dragged me out into the open, gutted me, and threw me on the fire.

  If this is what my existence is to consist of, if I only have two options in this ridiculous afterlife, perpetual loneliness or emotional battery, then I think I’m ready to wave the white flag and surrender. I realize I’m tired, a soul-deep sense of exhaustion stemming from the fact that I live day in and day out but don’t really live at all. I simply exist, barely. There will never be more for me than this, and a ghost girl can only take so much before she simply gives up.

  “You win,” I say simply, and his stunned look holds no satisfaction for me.

  “What do you mean, I win?”

  “You win. I give up. I surrender. Call the twins and have them do their thing.”

  “Fate…”

  “No. You don’t get to backtrack now. You’ve thrown it all out there, and I’ve listened. Come to terms with the fact that this is all there will ever be for me. I choose my own fate.” I take a deep breath and release a self-deprecating chuckle. “Ironic, right? But I won’t let anyone else decide what happens to me. So, call them. Let’s get this thing done.”

  “Come on. You don’t actually mean that.”

  “Oh, but I do. I’m one hundred percent dead-fucking serious right now. Call. Them.”

  “I’m not going to…”

  “Since when did you grow a pussy? A few seconds ago, your balls were so big they wouldn't fit through a door. You got what you wanted. Take it. Call them. End me. You. Fucking. Win!”

  By the end I’m shouting at him.

  The look on his face would be comical if I wasn’t practically vibrating with anger. My power, which had been fairly dormant until now, is blazing inside of me. Rolling just under my skin, looking for an escape. My fingertips tingle and my toes curl as my body attempts to keep the beast inside of me contained.

  “Well? Go on. Do it!” I snarl.

  “Just calm down and let’s…”

  Calm down? He wants me to calm down after he just swung a damn sledgehammer through what was left of my non-existent heart? As if.

  Another surge of power has my knees almost buckling, but I keep my balance. Aware that he’s now the one in imminent danger if I can’t release some of this power that’s inside of me, I stumble back a few steps. I frantically look around, seeking something to aim all of this anger and frustration and energy at.

  My eyes land on the willow tree, and something inside of me snaps free. Whether it’s a snippet of a memory or a figment of my imagination caused by the stress I’m currently under, I can’t be sure. But suddenly I know this willow tree and I really do have a history. We have a connection, the two of us. One forged in death.

  Before I can even think about what I’m doing, I’m stalking up to the tree. Something is calling to me, like to like. Power to power. A connection that is awakening from a long slumber.

  “Fate? What are you doing?”

  I ignore Cole and keep walking through the hanging branches and over the uneven ground with sections of roots sticking out until I can lay my palm against the rough bark. The second contact is made, I feel it. The power. So much like my own that the two forces surge forward, needing to reunite.

  “Fate? What the fuck is going on?”

  So he sees it too. The glow that has started to spread out from where my hand is joined to the trunk. I move to pull away but can’t. My hand is locked into place, my fingertips digging into the bark until it’s almost painful. Wait a minute. I can feel pain. What the hell is happening? Panic starts seeping through the anger without lessening the power inside me.

  “I don’t know. I can’t move my hand.”

  “Here. Let me help…”

  “No! Don’t get too close. My power is growing. I won’t be able to keep it contained much longer. Just go.”

 
“I’m not leaving you here like this.”

  “You have to. You’ve got your brothers. Keep them safe. Tell them…” I pause, coming to terms with the fact that this is probably where my existence ends. I take a shuddering breath. “Tell them I said thank you for making sure my last days weren’t spent alone.”

  “Fate…”

  “I’m sorry, Cole, for whatever happened in the past. And just in case sorry isn’t what’s needed, I forgive you. Hopefully one of those is enough to stop the nightmares and help you move forward.”

  The glow is now a large, ghostly flame, illuminating the entire space under the willow’s hanging branches. There’s no heat, just an intense light that’s growing by the second. The ground begins to shake, causing the branches to sway which throws a beautiful light pattern out into the yard beyond. It would be a stunning sight to take in if it wasn’t so damn terrifying.

  “Don’t do this.”

  “I don’t have a choice. Now hurry.”

  Just as I say that, bolts of lightning start shooting out from between my hand and the tree. The power in my body has recognized the power within the tree, and nothing is going to stop the two from having a happy little reunion.

  “Now, Cole! Run!”

  I watch as his hands fist and his jaw clenches when the realization hits that there’s nothing he can do. The emotion in his eyes is one I am intimately familiar with. Regret.

  “It’s okay. Go. Please,” I whisper desperately.

  With one last look and a simple nod, he runs off into the night.

  I hold on with all my might for as long as I can. Praying he’s a safe distance away, I let my head drop forward and take a deep breath. On the exhale, I release the tight hold I have on my power, setting it free.

  There’s a blast of bright light and a sudden surge of power like I’ve never felt, then the world goes black.

 

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