Jinxed: A Paranormal Why Choose Standalone
Jinxed: Chapter 2

My only source of entertainment was watching realtors use the house as bait. It was a tactic to sell whatever house they actually wanted to lure their clients into buying. I knew what a realtor was thanks to Theo, and I knew what they were doing thanks to my own powers of deduction. Because you see, after years of having nothing else to do, people were incredibly easy to pick apart.

They always arrived early in the morning–obviously the first visit of the day. The realtor never even bothered to walk up the steps. And the same people never came twice. These were the rules of the house buyers.

I liked rules.

And one of the rules I had for myself was this–always watch the front of the house. The last thing I needed was another Theo. God, he was a pain in my ass. And don’t even get me started on Luther. I needed to make sure no one else stumbled in through the front door. So from my second-floor bedroom, I watched her sniffing around with the bleach-blonde realtor woman. She also had blonde hair, but it was softer. More natural. The color of corn husks at the end of the season. She had the kind of curves I wanted to run my hand across, and as she climbed the porch, I could make out the smattering of freckles across her perfect nose. I willed her and her long, silky locks to stay away. To get back into the realtor’s fancy silver car, and drive off down the dusty gravel road like they all had, on to find their real houses. To their real lives.

I knew the minute she stepped out of the car–this one was different. It scared me. But I knew I couldn’t stop her. What could I do, other than bang my hands against the windows, and wail? I had tried once before, when a group of loud teenagers had stumbled up the steps. It had worked, in the sense they had run off terrified. But it had also drawn more attention to the house, which was the last thing I wanted. People wanted to see the “haunted Victorian at the end of Hastings Road.”

I was here to atone for my sins. My sins, and mine alone. Anyone else who ended up here was an unfortunate accident. Which meant I could only watch in horror as the pretty thing climbed the steps, stars in her bright hazel eyes.

I couldn’t remember the last time I had touched a woman, and I craved to feel her, to run my fingers through her silky hair while I gazed into her eyes.

If she knew what was good for her, she’d rush back into the car and drive far, far away from here.

Eventually she left, and I sighed. Half in relief, half in disappointment. She was safe, away from me. Until an engine woke me from my nap a few days later. I hurried to my window. I expected to see another flashy car, another couple with glazed-over eyes. Instead I saw the blonde woman, hair piled high on her head, driving the ugliest truck I had ever seen in my life. The back was loaded with cardboard boxes.

No. No. No. No. No. This was not happening. No. No way.

Being stuck in a house for eternity with two other guys? Awful, but not the worst thing I could imagine. No, that title would be reserved for being stuck in a house for eternity with the prettiest woman I had seen in a hundred years. There was only one way it could end–badly.

I sprinted out of my bedroom, stumbling over my own feet.

“Felix, bro? You okay?” Theo popped his head out of his bedroom, running his hands through his shaggy blond hair. I had told him a million times to cut it, but he wouldn’t. Usually he’d clap back at me to cut my own damn hair, which was a joke. He’d laugh at my expense while I fumed, because our hair hadn’t grown so much as an inch since the day we’d arrived.

I rolled my eyes, not bothering to stop running. “I’m fine, and for the last goddamn time, I am not your bro.”

“Whatever, man,” he said, completely unbothered. Theo was utterly unflappable, and it drove me absolutely insane. In fact, the only time I had ever seen him bothered in the thirty years we had been stuck together was when he ran out of his impressive pot stash. In fairness to him, he had made it last a lot longer than it should’ve. I had tried it once, too bored and lonely to say no when Theo had offered. I didn’t like it, which wasn’t surprising considering rule number two.

Always keep a level head. If I ever hoped to get out of this house alive, which was unlikely, I needed to be prepared for anything. So, no alcohol. No drugs. I needed to be sober at all times.

Not that I could begrudge him. After all, we each had our vices. Things we could smell, taste, dream. Theo’s was weed. Booze. Whatever he could get his hands on to not feel the emotions churning beneath the surface of his skin. And on a level I would never discuss with him, I understood why he did it.

A conversation for a different time, because right now I had to stop the blonde woman from opening the door. I made for the stairs, but before I could even round the long hallway’s corner, I heard it.

I felt it.

We all did, because the house was as much a part of us as we were a part of it. And the satisfaction, the utter glee, of a new soul being absorbed within nearly took my breath away. Fuck.

The sounds echoed up the hall, someone tripping, swearing, and the front door slamming shut. I sank to my knees before I could stop myself. A curse was one thing. I had brought that on myself. But to be trapped in here with her? I was certain I could already smell the shampoo she used that morning. Strawberry scented, and intoxicatingly sweet.

This was officially my worst nightmare. My vices were the small tastes of freedom I enjoyed every so often, and this woman who had unknowingly stumbled into a house of horrors was the biggest breath of fresh air I had tasted in decades. And her hair…God, it brought back memories. Memories better left buried.

In this house, you could either let your past haunt you, or you could forget you ever used to have a life outside these walls. A real life. I chose to do the latter. I couldn’t let this newcomer fuck up my streak. Now she was officially one of us, I would stay far, far away from her. Difficult to do, but not impossible. Downstairs, the woman was muttering to herself, cursing as she wandered into the dining room. I shook my head, wondering how the hell I could avoid her. Keep my sanity. The one good thing about this house had been the lack of women. Women hadn’t exactly been a good experience for me in my pre-house life.

“I thought the whole haunted house thing would’ve scared everyone off for at least another decade or two.” Luther’s gravelly whisper caught my attention. We tried to give each other as much distance as possible, so the fact he was willingly speaking to me was a surprise. He chewed on the inside of his cheek. “Fuck’s sake. She doesn’t look any older than Theo, and we all know how that went.”

I didn’t want to think about it. I shrugged. “I’m sure you’ll tell her what to do soon enough.”

Luther groaned. “Grow up. How many times do we have to go over this bullshit?”

I tightened my hands around the railing, ignoring Luther and listening to the young woman bang at the back door. She’d figure it out herself. We all had. Sure enough, footsteps stormed across the kitchen, back through the dining room. Would she be a crier? A screamer? I wasn’t sure which way she would go. From my vantage point on the landing, I watched as she tightened a tea towel around her fist, and I instantly knew what she meant to do. Damn. Why couldn’t she have been a crier?

“Do you want to deal with her?” I asked Luther.

He merely raised one dark brow and gestured towards our new roommate. “Please. Be my guest.”

Fucking jerk, took charge of everything else except for this. I should’ve known better than to even ask. Glaring, I tiptoed down the stairs towards the very thing I wanted to run away from. I wasn’t sure I would make it to her in time. She was winding her arm back, ready to smash through the front window. As much as I didn’t want her here, I couldn’t let her hurt herself either. I snatched her tightly bound fist with my hand, trying to ignore the sparks shooting through my body with the smallest of touches.

I watched her process what was happening–the fact she wasn’t alone. She wouldn’t be alone ever again. The thought brought a smile to my lips as she turned her face towards me.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” She was even more beautiful up close. A pretty little thing who had absolutely no idea what she had stumbled into.

She opened her mouth to scream, then closed it again, pulling her other arm back, subtly, like I wouldn’t notice. But rule number three was to always be ten steps ahead. By the time her free fist sailed toward my face, I had it clutched into my other hand. “I wouldn’t do that either. Whatever happened to manners? I swear, people these days have no idea what constitutes good manners.”

“Who the fuck are you, and why the fuck are you in my house?” A frown creased her smooth forehead, and I couldn’t help but laugh at her misplaced sense of propriety.

“Darling, I could ask you the same thing.” She tried to pull out of my grasp, but I squeezed her wrists tighter.

She glared, anger radiating hot off her smooth skin. The fact she was angry, not afraid was surprising, and incredibly attractive. “Let me go. I’m getting out of here, and then I’m calling the cops on you. You have approximately five minutes to get the hell out of my house before they show up.”

I rolled my eyes. If only the police were my biggest problem. “First, this isn’t your house. It’s mine.”

Before she could open her mouth to protest, I took my hand off the wrapped wrist and slapped it over her mouth. “No interrupting.”

If looks could kill, I’d be nothing more than a pile of ash on the floor. I found myself staring into her eyes, a unique hazel blend I don’t think I had ever seen before. Damn, she was stunning. But, no. If we were going to survive this house together, I couldn’t afford to give in to a pretty face.

“As I was saying. This is my house. You are now a guest.” Her lips were warm under my palm, her flesh pressing against my skin. “Second, you can’t break a window. Or a door, or pick a lock. Because you can’t leave. You, my darling girl, are now a fixture of this house.” Some long-forgotten emotion pricked at my heart, reminding me of who I used to be. Who I was, once upon a time.

I watched those beautiful eyes as they processed what I was saying. Her lips opened and closed against my hand. I saw the moment when she realized I wasn’t a ghost, but that there wasn’t something quite right about me either. Something about this whole interaction broke the rules of logic she had lived by for so long. The confusion sank in, a million questions lingered beneath her skin, but none of them transferred into words. And they wouldn’t, as long as I had my hand over her lips.

“I’m going to take my hand away from your mouth now, okay? No screaming, please. I hate it when women scream.” She nodded, wide-eyed, and I dropped my hand.

The pieces were still fitting together in her mind, and I knew as much as she wouldn’t want to believe what I was saying, a bigger part of her already felt the connection to the house. As surreal as it was, she knew. She knew what I was saying was true. The fight dropped out of her body, and I released her other wrist. Still, I expected the question. “What the hell do you mean I can’t leave?”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. I took a few steps back, sinking into the armchair in the corner of the dining room. She didn’t move, and for that I was grateful. I didn’t need a repeat of Theo’s escape attempts. This was my third time giving this speech, and it never got any easier. But for some reason, I couldn’t look into her eyes as I told her the truth. I looked at my hands, the wall, anywhere except for her. I stared at the beautiful prison of my own construction. Each wall and floor I had once loved so dearly, I now loathed with a passion. The furniture made me sick, and given enough time, she would make me sick too. “What I mean is, this house is jinxed. Cursed. You became a part of the curse the second you walked over the threshold. Once you step foot inside, you can never leave.”

I looked up at her, seeing a true understanding of what I said reflected back at me. “Welcome to the last home you’ll ever know.”

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