Chapter Fifteen

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I stayed put, feeling the sharpness of the knife bite into the skin of my neck.

"I never loved you, Rose," Christian whispered, his lips next to her ear and his breath making her shiver. "I met Lucille five years ago. This whole thing has been one big plot to get your inheritance."

"What inheritance?"

"Don't play dumb with me!" Christian shouted. "You're family is the richest in the county. I knew that, if my aunt and uncle wanted to keep their social standing they would have to bring me along to parties and pretend to be cordial. I was a gentleman, asking you to dance and talking business with your father. I picked you out years ago but not out of love."

Of course I wanted to hate him and I wanted to be indifferent to what he was telling me. But I really had loved Christian and all of those feelings wouldn't just go away overnight. I felt the tears slipping down my cheeks but didn't say anything.

"And you, Rose, were so desperate for someone to love you," he continued. "Which was ridiculous because you could have had any of those eligible bachelors vying for your attention. I at least thought I would have some competition. But luck would have it: you fell for me." He let out a cackling laugh and I felt the anger rising up inside me.

"I was desperate for love?" I spat. "You were the one looking for someone to love you. You had no parents and you were lonely and disgusting. You are the one being used by that...that ghost." I stomped backwards on his foot and pushed him backwards. His knife slid across my throat and I was sure he'd drawn blood but he didn't do much more than that as he screamed curses and stumbled away in the dark.

I made my way to the elevator and slammed the door shut just as Christian came barrelling toward me. He screamed, saliva flying at me from between the bars while he tried to reach in far enough and cut me with his knife. I yanked the lever down and the elevator went soaring through the shaft to the first floor faster than I thought it could.

I stumbled out of the elevator, pressing my hands to my neck and feeling the sticky blood spilling out of a cut that seemed deeper than I'd previously thought. "Thomas?" I called, my voice echoing throughout the house.

The kitchen was probably the only place in the house I could go to get something to defend myself. I looked around cautiously, ready for anything, as I made my way the kitchen. I jumped when something crashed upstairs. I raced to the drawer where I knew the knives were and yanked it open. I grabbed the first sharp thing I saw and whirled back around to go find Thomas.

"Thomas?" I called again. "Where are you?"

There was another crash upstairs and I lifted my skirts with my free hand to hurry up the creaky stairs.

"Thomas, where are you?" My neck was throbbing and my head was pounding and, when I reached the top of the stairs, I had to lean against the wall to catch my breath.

"Rose," Thomas gasped as he tumbled out of a room down the hall. "Are you okay?" He was holding his left arm to his chest, a long gash stretched down his arm, staining the torn edges of his shirt red.

"I'm fine," I assured him. "What about you?"

We met halfway down the hall and Thomas put a careful hand on my neck. "What happened?"

"Nothing I couldn't handle. What about you? Where is Lucille?"

Thomas glanced over his shoulder. "Gone. I threw a fire iron at her and she was gone. This is our chance; we have to leave now before she comes back. Where is Christian?"

"He's in the basement."

Thomas wrapped his free arm around my waist and we started for the stairs. I held my knife out defensively, ready for anything.

And it was a good thing too. We'd hardly gone ten steps when Christian came barrelling up the stairs with his own knife in hand.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" he screamed. His face was almost purple with rage and the knife in his hand was stained with my blood. "You don't get to walk out of here. You don't get to live anymore. Your money is mine. Your life is mine. You have nothing, Rose."

"That's not true," Thomas countered before I could say anything. "She has a strong will and she has me."

"You?" Christian spat. "How are you helpful to her? This is all your fault. All of this," he spread his arms, "is because of you."

I was pretty sure Thomas's face fell when he heard that. It wasn't that that was untrue but you couldn't put all the blame on him. The way I saw it, Lucille abused her power as the older sister and made Thomas do some things that he wouldn't have done otherwise.

"Just let us go," I pleaded. "I get that you're hurt and you're trying to make something of yourself, but you don't need to hurt us to do that."

"You don't understand, Rose. It's not that I have to do it, I want to do it. I want to kill you. I want to watch the light leave your eyes as your blood spills from the cut in your throat."

Thomas put an arm in front of me, taking a step forward. "You're sick."

A laugh ripped from Christian's throat, something twisted and disturbing. "I'm so glad you noticed."

"I don't understand what you expect to come from this." Thomas continued talking with Christian as his hand moved along my skirts towards my hand with the knife. "You can't get out of this happily. You won't be satisfied just killing the two of us."

"Oh, I think I will."

I realized what Thomas was doing and passed the knife over to him.

Christian frowned when he saw the knife in Thomas's hand. "Are you going to fight me?"

"If I have to," Thomas told him. "Or you could let us just walk out of here."

Christian's face contorted in a terrifying expression and he charged toward Thomas.

Thomas pushed me back, ready to defend himself and me.

"Thomas," I cried.

Christian stabbed at Thomas but Thomas managed to knock the knife out of his hand. He dropped his own knife once Christian was disarmed and began wrestling with him.

I had to do something. I couldn't just stand here, waiting for something to happen. Whatever did happen would be my fault if I didn't do something.

"Thomas..." I spun around to see Lucille gliding towards us.

"No," I muttered. I didn't have anything to defend myself from a ghost. What was I going to do?

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