Ghosts of Halloween (Ghosts of Halloween, #0.5-#3.5)

by Layla Fae

“For you, I will be anything.”

“Did he tell you he loves you? Because I will tell you

right now. I fucking love you, Harlow. I’m in love with you, and I’m asking you to break up with the fucker so you can be mine!”

“Meet your demons,” the voice in my ear whispers, intimate and soft. “The Skullboy over there is Strangler. And the one with red marks is Butcher.”

“I’m Groomer, princess,” he says, laughing quietly in my ear. “I promise you’ll see the irony later tonight.”

“You’re my unfinished business, angel.”

“It’s your fault Noah’s dead,” Silas says, his voice so soft. Almost kind. “It’s your fault we died.”

“I’m sorry, angel,” Silas murmurs, voice unsteady. “I’m so sorry. Please, sweetheart. You’re okay. Everything will be good now. I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve to feel good again,” I whisper quietly, looking away in shame. “But I do,” Silas says, voice growing hard as he adjusts his hold on my hair, gripping so tight there’s a constant, sweet pressure at my scalp. “I deserve to do everything I want to you, my sweet angel of death. Will you really tell me no?”

“I did,” he whispers. “Maybe I still do, a little. Enough to break you, princess.” “I’m already broken.”

“You’re not supposed to make me feel better.” His hand freezes on my skin, and then he delivers another slap, so hard, I yelp from the impact, fresh tears squeezed out from my eyes. “That’s not for you to decide, little brat. Now behave, or I’ll make you come.”

I am tamed. Completely at their mercy.

“Do you really want to come, angel? Or would you rather not? Should I make it hurt so bad, you’ll get lost in it?”

So this is how my love gets ruined.

A filthy little angel, fallen from heaven, tossed in with the devils.

I reach out and touch her hair softly, looking into that sweet, open face. I saw her flayed raw today. I saw her fall apart and shatter, both in pleasure and agony. And in the hell we put her through, with everything stripped raw, my soul calls out to hers. Like two twins recognizing each other after decades of staying apart. So maybe it’s not that I’m bi or that I’m suddenly attracted to women. Maybe I just want her.

Nothing exists right now. Nothing but her, me, and the things I will do to her.

They never actually fight, but at this point, I’m convinced friendly verbal sparring is their love language.

I love all three of them, but there are flavors to my love. Each is different, though all equally strong. With Caden, I feel at peace. He is my safe harbor, and I cling to him now. Even though I had a good day and nothing bad happened to me, being out there in the world still carries some anxiety. Cuddled in Cay’s arms, I can let go and finally breathe.

Before Caden can react, I turn to him and smile sweetly. “I love your sauce in my mouth, Daddy.” Silas chokes on his next bite while Caden and Jack laugh.

“Keep going, Jack. My good boy.” And then, because I can’t help myself even when consumed by pleasure, I snicker and add, “Suck Daddy Santa’s cock, my good Rudolph boy.” Jack sputters and pulls back to the sound of Harlow’s gasping laughter. Silas huffs in amusement, and I know he’s grinning behind the mask. Jack laughs, his face turning crimson. “Fuck, Caden. Way to go if you want to spoil the mood.” “Hey, I’m still hard and you are, too,” I say with a grin, pointing at his straining erection. “Admit it, love. You’re hard for Daddy Santa.” Jack shakes his head, still laughing, and then grabs my cock in a tight fist, looking up with a mischievous grin. “I’m hard for Daddy Caden. You taste better than a candy cane, old man.”