Page 2 of Please Open Me
The bell tolled once more.
Dong... Dong... Dong...
“Get thefuckaway from her,” I growled, yanking Mason toward me. She stumbled helplessly into my arms. Dale parted his lips to speak, but I wasn’t hearing it. I scooped her up, held her against me, and ran as fast as I could. My lungs started to burn as the cursed version of Hartwood faded into an evergreen forest at night.
Twigs snapped under my feet, but I kept going until the world became too dark to traverse. Panting, I placed Mason down and tried to gather my bearings.Her white robe shrouded her in an ethereal glow, like the moon on a perfectly clear night.
But so did the flames creeping up the thin material. I stood, paralyzed with fear, as a terrible scream clawed its way out of her, the flames climbing higher. Her skin blackened and blistered like a marshmallow as the hellfire cleansed her, just as it’d done to all the other Sons of Christ victims.
As I fell to my knees, the bell tolled once more.
Dong! Dong! Dong!
Chapter 1
Sebastian
Present day…
Hartwood, Maine.
My body snapped awake before my mind could catch up, causing me to sit up and nearly dump my thin, damp blanket on the floor. Sweat caked my forehead, sliding into my eyes as I fought to calm myself down without waking anyone else.
Pressing a palm to my chest, I grabbed my glasses and glanced across the bed. Rosie was nestled into a portable crib on Cameron’s side of the bed. Even in his deep slumber, his hand rested protectively on her little chest. I froze as his face creased, but after a moment, he returned to a seemingly peaceful sleep.
Mason had fallen asleep sandwiched between the two of us, but when I looked a little lower to check on her, I noticed a book light illuminating whatever monster smut she’d brought to bed.
Her polychromatic gaze locked with mine in a look that said,You’re supposed to be asleep. I’m sure my face wore a similar expression. But, fortunately for both of us,thiswas normal.
I gasped and swallowed hard, willing myself to act like Ihadn’tjust seen her die.
Determined to snatch a good morning from the jaws of my nightmare, I reached over, plucked the book from her hands, marked the page, and turned off the light.
“You need to rest,” I whispered, even though we both knew it wouldn’t make a difference.
Ever since she woke up from her car-accident-induced coma, she’d been waging a war on sleep. I didn’t have much room to lecture her; I hadn’t had a full night of uninterrupted sleep since the crash either. But for the last two weeks, her health had been steadily declining. Nothing obvious enough for the rest of the house to notice, but I saw every twitch, every tremble, every fake smile.
Headaches. Muscle pain. Low-grade fevers. Random bouts of shivering.
And the worst part? She couldn’t eat more than a few bites of anything. No nausea, just a complete deletion of her appetite. She hid it well, probably thinking she was doing us a favor. But I was terrified.
Still, the suggestion of a doctor was off-limits. I'd brought it up once last week, and she shut me down so fast you'd think I accused her of plotting murder.
I pulled the covers up to her shoulder and laid back down, pressing my nose to hers. My skin tingled, as if my atoms were rushing to greet her.
“You okay?” I asked.
Mason blinked slowly, and after a long pause, she whispered, “Do you think my organs are failing?”
I opened my mouth.
Closed it.
And kissed her forehead.
It was then I breathed her in and savored the scent of her pomegranate shampoo.
“You know who could tell you that?” I murmured against her skin.
