LITMIR.BIZ

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House to its original beauty, although he worked for a construction company part-time, so he wasn’t always available. He didn’t believe in ghosts any more than she did. He loved hearing the old stories about the house’s origins.

      Wade sank to his knees, grabbing a hammer and a wrench in his large fists. “I dropped my tools. I take good care of them.”

      “I know you do, Wade.” She placed a hand on his shoulder. “Here, let me help you.”

      “That’s okay. I can do it. I can take care of my tools.” His curious eyes turned in her direction. “Are you sad?”

      She felt as if he was talking Greek to her. “Why would I be sad?”

      “I dunno.” He placed the last tool in the metal box and stood, towering over her. “’Cause Michael left. You’re lonely. Huh?”

      He thought Michael was gone. Why would he think that? She opened her mouth to correct him.

      Before she could say anything, Michael appeared in a doorway off the foyer. Wade stiffened beside her. His eyes were glued to her houseguest, with a hostile emotion evident. It didn’t surprise her. Wade hadn’t liked Michael from the beginning. Although he hadn’t said anything bad about him. Wade didn’t speak ill of anyone.

      Wade stuttered, “I—I d-didn’t know y-you were here.”

      Michael shrugged without comment.

      Wade took a step backward, fear in his gaze as if he was looking at the devil himself. Did he see the change in Michael, too? From Jekyll to Hyde, or vice versa, her fiancé had exchanged personalities sometime during the night.

      Did he think he could fool her, pretend to be something he wasn’t? Which one was the real Michael? The animated, generous listener she’d spent so many hours with or the cold, magnetic man she saw standing in front of her now?

      If she didn’t know better, she would think they were two entirely different people.

      Wade turned abruptly and headed for the door. “I gotta go.”

      “But you just got here,” she said.

      “I gotta go now,” he insisted, dancing around as if he had to use the bathroom. He charged toward the exit. “Bye-bye.”

      Kelly chased after him. She managed to reach him before he made it out the door. Her hand landed on his arm, tugging him to a stop. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Wade.”

      “You mad at me?”

      “Of course not.”

      “Don’t listen to him.” Wade looked pointedly at Michael. “I’m not bad.”

      “I know,” Kelly reassured him. “Don’t worry. I could never be mad at you.”

      A smile tilted Wade’s mouth. He stepped out into the cold autumn day, and Kelly stood at the door, watching him go. Halfway to his truck, he bent over. He plucked something from the ground and turned to her, holding it high with a bright smile.

      “I found a penny for my collection.” He began to chant. “Finders keepers. Losers weepers.”

      She forced a smile. Wade’s hobby was finding things that other people lost. He kept them in a box in his room at home, watching over them as if they were actually worth something.

      He waved at her, obviously excited about his find.

      Michael spoke from directly behind her, far too close. His warm breath caressed the back of her neck. She wanted to swat him away like a pesky mosquito. His newfound attitude made her nerves tighten to the point of snapping.

      “What was that all about?”

      “You tell me.” She turned on him like a cornered animal would. “I haven’t seen Wade so upset before. What did you do to him?”

      “I didn’t do anything. I didn’t say a word to him. You were here the whole time.”

      “I wasn’t talking about today.” She put distance between them, choosing to stand near the staircase. “You must have said something or done something when I wasn’t around.”

      His lips compressed into a tight line.

      She added, “I don’t even know you, do I? You’re a stranger to me. Were you pretending to love me these past few months? Was it all an act?”

      He stared at her, his eyes cold chips of dark ice, and she knew he wasn’t going to answer her. He hid behind a stoic expression, not saying a word. He hadn’t been like this before today. Was it possible for a person to overhaul his personality overnight?

      This Michael was like an exposed negative of the original photograph. He walked differently, stalking his prey like a hungry panther. Gone was the amusing swagger. He moved with a purpose now, walking with a quiet grace that was at odds with his big, muscular body. But it didn’t stop at the way he walked. There was the way he held himself, his gestures, the way he spoke. Everything about the man was different.

      It made her want to scream in frustration.

      For the first time since she’d moved into the old house, it seemed too small. His menacing presence devoured the oxygen. What could she do to protect herself against him if he attacked her?

      Michael closed the gap between them with quick and easy strides.

      “Are you afraid of me?” He asked the question with a look of wonder in his eyes. It gave her hope. He was stunned by her reaction, by her need to get away from him.

      “Should I be afraid of you?”

      A harmless smile tilted the corners of his mouth, but it didn’t touch his eyes. “Do I make you nervous?”

      “Answering a question with a question is an outdated and impolite way to avoid answering.”

      “You started it,” he said. “How do you feel now?” His fingers stroked the side of her face. “Better?”

      Her skin burned where he touched it, igniting her nerve endings. She realized, too late, that she was in danger of a different kind. Now she wondered what it would be like to kiss him again. Would it be different? Everything else had changed about him. Would his kisses be different, as well?

      She feared she knew the answer already.

      She gently pushed his hand away. “I feel fine.”

      “Then why is your breathing erratic?”

      Kelly swallowed hard. What was wrong with her? Michael hadn’t cared about her scars. Outside of Wade, he had been the one person she could open up to. So why did she feel uneasy with him all of a sudden?

      “It was a rhetorical question,” he said. “I don’t expect an answer.”

      “Good.” She inched her way along the wall, moving sideways past the staircase. “Can you tell me something?”

      “What?” His eyebrow arched.

      “Do you love me, Michael?” she asked.

      There was an obvious hesitation, as if he was trying to figure out how to answer her question.

      “Yes or no!” A voice at the back of her mind screamed at her not to ask. “It’s a simple question.”

      “Sure I do.” He said the words without feeling or depth. He replied as one would to a child in need of humoring.

      I never wanted you. It was a joke. You’re a joke.

      The words shot through her like a bullet, bringing a searing pain with them. Kelly’s hands flew to her temples. Palms pressed hard against the sides of her head, she held it tightly, fearing it would explode. A soft whimper floated to her ears.

      It was her. She was moaning while slowly sliding down the wall.

      Hands enclosed her upper arms and tugged her up again. Her back scraped

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