Tempted by His Wicked Kiss

by Zoey Williams

  The graveyard was densely populated with tombstones. Some were made of white-gray stone, jutting knee-high out of the ground, while others were simply small, nondescript nameplates embedded in the snowy earth.

  “We need to find Cal’s,” Jackson explained. He took her hand. “As quickly as possible.”

  “How do you know he was buried here?” she asked.

  “Because Cal and I watched as his mother negotiated with the police. She suspected that they had purposefully run us into traffic when they saw us after the mugging and they wanted to keep her quiet. They gave him a proper burial and paid her off. Cal was enraged. She faked that she cared about what happened to his body, she just wanted as much money as she could squeeze out of them. Everything she’s ever done has always been in her best interest.”

  Charlotte hesitated, as if unsure if she should let herself say what she asked next. “And...what about you?”

  Jack looked away for a moment. “No one claimed my body, so it was cremated. That’s what they do.”

  A look of sadness washed over Charlotte’s face, in the moonlight he could tell that her eyes were glittering with tears. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

  The tenderness she felt toward him, seeing how much she cared for him made his heart hurt. And here she was, letting him take her on an insane adventure. He was amazed that she could trust him after all he’d put her through. She was truly the strongest woman he’d ever met. One who deserved happiness. One who deserved to get her life back and a man who could be with her until the end of her days. It pained him to know that that man would never be him, but he’d do everything he could in the meantime.

  “It’s okay, don’t worry about it,” he said. He tugged her arm gently, urging her to walk with him. “Now come, let’s find Cal.”

  Together they walked slowly through the rows of headstones, Charlotte crouching down in the snow and brushing off the nameplates one by one, desperately trying to make out the inscriptions in the light of the full moon. Eventually they separated so they could cover more ground. Jack was trying to decipher the inscription on a glossy black headstone when he heard Charlotte’s voice a few rows away.

  “Here it is,” she called to him. He jogged over to her and peered at the small headstone—significantly smaller than the rest in the row—that she was kneeling in front of. She peered up at Jack. “I think this is it,” she said.

  He bent down and felt the carved letters in the stone. He could barely see it in the dark, but the deep inscription told him the name was unmistakably there: CALVIN JOHNSON (1984–2013).

  “Now what do we do?” Charlotte asked, a trace of dread in her voice.

  Jack looked around for a moment before his eyes were drawn to two shiny metal objects leaning against a mausoleum covered in frozen vines and cobwebs. Bingo. He walked over, picked up the shovels and handed one to Charlotte.

  “Now we dig,” he said, dreading Charlotte’s reaction.

  Charlotte’s mouth hung agape. “Now we what?”

  “Dig. I’m sorry, Charlotte, but it’s the only way.”

  “We’re going to dig up Cal’s body?” Charlotte’s voice had risen in alarm.

  Jack grunted as he used all the force he could to drive the shovel into the ground. It barely broke the surface. “If we can,” he sighed.

  Charlotte crossed her arms over her chest. “No. No, no, no, Jack. This is going too far. It’s too illegal. We broke into the place and now this?”

  He sighed. “What if I told you that by digging up this grave, your life would go back to normal? Just do this one thing and I’ll never ask you to do anything again. I’ll be...gone in a few hours anyway.”

  Charlotte looked around helplessly. “I—”

  “Please,” he repeated. “Just let me do this one thing before I...go.”

  She looked down at the ground. “It’s just that this feels so wrong, Jack.”

  “Yes,” he agreed. “But stealing from you in the first place was wrong, too. And now I’m going to help make it right.” He patted her elbow gently. “Please help me dig.”

  She took a moment to stand up, gripping her fingers around the shovel’s handle in a stupor.

  “Okay,” she said.

  Charlotte lifted her skirt and stomped on the shovel, trying to drive it into the ground. Like Jack, she could only get it down about half a foot. After a few minutes of the arduous work, sweat began to form on Charlotte’s brow. The two of them etched into the hard ground for half an hour before Charlotte’s shovel hit something solid. It had been fortunate that Cal had died during the winter so he wasn’t buried too far down in the ground.

  He and Charlotte swept the dirt off the surface of the coffin, exposing the wooden exterior to the outside for the first time in a year. Jack did not look forward to what was going to happen next. Gripping the lid of the coffin with his fingers, he turned to Charlotte. “This isn’t going to be pretty,” he warned her.

  Charlotte shielded her eyes with the back of her hand. “Go on, just do it,” she muttered.

  It took a few tries to open it—it’d been in the frozen earth for so long—but little by little, Jack slowly cracked the top open. As soon as the smell hit both of them, Charlotte clawed at the dirt and scrambled up and over the shallow grave until she sat in the snowy grass.

  “Just do whatever you have to do quickly so we can close that thing!” she pleaded before pulling her coat up over her nose. Her light blue eyes stared at him over the top of her coat. In any other situation, it would have almost been funny.

  But any chance at humor was lost when Jack turned and looked at Cal’s corpse. The skin on his face was now almost translucent and had disintegrated in patches, like a wet sheet of paper. His jaw was slightly open and he could see Cal’s gold fillings glinting in the moonlight. His eye sockets were barren, just two hollow impressions. It was truly grotesque. It made him glad to know his own body hadn’t had the chance to end up this way. It was oddly comforting to think that his body was now millions of scattered particles, maybe even floating in the wind that whipped around him and Charlotte.

  He looked back at Cal. His clothes were wrinkled and bloodstained, the same ones he worn the night of his death, his mother undoubtedly not willing to buy him a good suit, let alone dress clothes in general. He looked exactly as he did the last time Jack saw him alive. And it was definitely a blessing in disguise because the whole reason they had dug up his body was so that Jack could claim one piece of clothing in particular.

  Jack grabbed Cal’s shoulder and gently lifted him forward. His neck bent back, his skull swaying for a few moments like a metronome. Jack lifted him up just a little further and immediately saw a swatch of red. Hope surged within him. Cal had been buried with his backpack, his mother must’ve insisted upon it when she said she didn’t want any of his items returned to her. Frenzied, Jack tore the backpack off of Cal, hurriedly sliding it down what remained of his arms. The red leather bag was naturally heavy and bulky, just as Jack remembered.

  He tossed the bag over to Charlotte and closed the coffin lid with a heavy thud.

  “It’s over, you can look now,” he said before climbing up the gravesite and sitting next to her.

  “What is this?” Charlotte asked, her fingers touching the thick red fabric of the bag.

  “Calvin’s backpack. The one he wore the night of the robbery.”

  “Why do you want it? It’s not like any of what was stolen is going to be in there. The police would have definitely confiscated the money and marked it as evidence.”

  Jack tore open the bag. It was empty, except for one iridescent beetle climbing up the zipper.

  “See?” Charlotte said. “Did we really just rob a grave for nothing?”

  Jack grinned. “It may look that way, but what I know and what the cops didn’t know was...” He leaned over Charlotte and dragged her purse into his lap. He removed her set of keys and used what looked like the sharpest one on the key ring to tear a large hole into the
canvas interior of the backpack. A swatch of green appeared behind the gash. Tidy stacks of hundred-dollar bills fluttered in the wind.

  “The bag has a false bottom. He also stuffed everything into the lining,” Jack said triumphantly.

  Charlotte’s eyes widened and she let out a surprised laugh. “Jack!” she exclaimed, throwing her arms around him. “You found it, Jack!”

  Soon, tears of happiness started to spill down her cheeks and he began to kiss them. “It’s all over now, Charlotte,” he said between kisses. “It’s all over now.” Unfortunately for him, he meant that in more ways than one. The moon was rising higher in the sky. Midnight was near.

  “Here, let’s do this quickly so we can leave and get you someplace safer,” he said and the two of them began transferring the stacks of money—the money she’d been without for the past year—into her bag.

  Charlotte shook her head and laughed to herself as she grabbed fistfuls of cash and stuffed them into her bag. The slouchy purse was growing full, the seams becoming more strained with each bundle she packed into it. “I can’t believe this,” she repeated a few times. “I can’t believe you found it.”

  They were almost done transferring everything to her bag when the iron gates clattered a few yards behind them. Jack and Charlotte whipped their heads around, but saw nothing. “It’s probably just the wind,” Jack said slowly. “Come on, let’s fill in the grave and get out of here.”

  Charlotte got to her feet, slung her purse across her chest, and pulled the bag’s drawstrings into a tight knot. Jack handed her a shovel and walked to the edge of the small mound of earth they’d created. Just as Charlotte was about to tip her first shovel full of dirt into the grave, she screamed. Jack rushed over to her and peered at the grave. Standing on top of his own casket, was Cal, his eyes two small slits.

  “Boo,” he said.

  Jack immediately grabbed Charlotte’s arm and pulled her behind him.

  “What’s the matter? Afraid of ghosts? You could’ve fooled me,” Cal laughed.

  “What are you doing here, Cal?” Jack asked.

  “What am I doing here? I’m not the one digging up his friend’s grave,” he said with a laugh. “I’m here because you were acting really weird back at the library so I followed you. You were moving so damn fast, I almost lost you. But then I remembered there was only one place in the West Village you have ever gone. The one place you went to support your friend.”

  “We’re not friends, Cal,” he growled. His hands were clenching into fists.

  “You’re right, we’re not. Because a friend would’ve told me that he’d found a target.” He turned to Charlotte. “And trust me, sweetheart, I remember you. That night at the ATM, I would’ve taken more from you than your money if we hadn’t heard the cops approaching. I knew there was a hot little body underneath those rags. And by the looks of it, Jack’s already beaten me to the punch.” Cal licked his bottom lip slowly as his eyes scanned up and down her body.

  Jack’s hands were itching to take a swing at him.

  “Don’t you dare talk about her like that,” Jack demanded through gritted teeth.

  Cal threw up his hands. “Why are you standing up for her now? You certainly didn’t do that a year ago. Really, Jack. Who are you trying to fool? Face it, you and I are cut from the same cloth, so just give up the act.”

  “No, he’s not,” he heard Charlotte say behind him. “And he’ll never be.”

  Cal laughed, surprised at Charlotte’s audacity to speak to him. “You’re right. He’ll never be like me. Because I won’t be going where he’s going. And you’re the reason why.”

  Cal edged closer to them and Jack nudged Charlotte back a step.

  “Stay away,” he warned Cal.

  “Or you’ll do what? Just like when we were alive, you have no control over the situation. You’re going to do whatever I tell you to do. And right now I’m telling you to get out of my way so I can take something from her. And this time it’ll be more than her money.”

  Suddenly, Cal lunged at them. Jack clasped Charlotte by the wrist and forced her to run toward the gates. They dodged headstones like hurtles. With a force he’d never experienced before, he bolted through the gates and the padlock broke with a loud snap. Charlotte passed through behind him, her purse thumping against her hip as she ran.

  At the end of the block, there was a cab parked in front of a brownstone. A man in a suit straightened as he climbed out of the back, leaving one of the passenger doors ajar. Jack sprinted toward it, ushering Charlotte into the cab before he slid inside, slamming the door behind him with a loud thwack.

  “Drive!” Charlotte instructed, and that was all the cabbie needed to hear.

  The tires screeched, barely drowning out the sound of Calvin screaming in frustration, an earsplitting roar only Jack and Charlotte could hear.

  Chapter Seven

  Charlotte clicked her seatbelt on, which wasn’t usual to do in a cab in New York City, but she’d do anything to feel a little safer right now. Calvin Johnson had wanted to steal her soul. She looked down at herself, pulling up her sleeves to inspect her shaking hands, desperately trying to see the purple glow Jack and Cal said they could see on her. The fact that she couldn’t see it made her feel more uneasy, tainted in some way. She silently willed the cabdriver to go faster, but the traffic had picked up. She needed to get as far away as possible from Cal for the next half hour. Then it would be all over.

  But her head began to throb at the realization that not only would it be all over for Cal, it’d be all over for Jack, too. Charlotte tried to catch her breath as she looked over at him. Jack was bent over with his head in his hands. She put her hand on his knee. “Are you okay?” she asked.

  A cough sounded from the driver’s side of the car in front of her. Charlotte saw the eyes of the cab driver, a man in his fifties with a tattered Yankees hat on, peer at her in the rearview mirror. The wrinkles around his eyes deepened as he sent her a quizzical look.

  “I’m fine, miss,” he answered.

  She pursed her lips as she realized that, to him, there was only one person in the backseat. And that one person was talking to herself. She smiled tightly at the cabbie and kept her voice down as she asked the question again to Jack.

  He looked up and smiled, but there was pain in his eyes. He nodded his head toward the driver. “You forgot I’m not real to everyone.”

  She laughed quietly despite herself. She smiled at him, feeling the tension around them ease just the tiniest bit. “Of course I did. You’ve led me on the most insane night of my life. Things couldn’t be more real right now.”

  “Craziest, yes. But most dangerous, too.” He sighed. “I was so close to losing you back there, Charlotte. I can’t bear to think that I put you in harm’s way. That Cal almost got you. I just wanted to make things better and send you on your way, but I’ve made them worse for you.”

  It amazed him that throughout this whole situation, with the clock so quickly approaching midnight, he wasn’t thinking at all about himself. His thoughts were only on her. “I’m going to be fine, Jack. We just have to outrun him for a little while and all my problems will be solved.” She lightly tapped her bag. “And it’s all thanks to you.”

  But there was another problem she wouldn’t admit to him. A big problem. Sure, she had her money and, for now, her safety, but it wasn’t going to mean anything if he wasn’t going to be around much longer. In and out of her life in a flash. Every intimate daydream she’d ever had about Jack had come true and soon it would be wrenched from her. She hated the idea of having to go back to the time where the only way she could have Jack in her life would be in her fantasies. But she couldn’t tell him all this now, adding to what already weighed so heavily on him.

  “I just wish that I could repay you for what you did tonight. Somehow prevent what’s eventually going to...happen.” She couldn’t bear to think the words, let alone speak them. The man who’d just saved her life and earned her trust was go
ing to Hell. It just wasn’t fair.

  “What awaits me doesn’t scare me. I just couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you. I already put you through enough.”

  “Nothing else is going to happen, I promise.” She reached over and put her hand over his, massaging the back of his hand with her thumb.

  The cabdriver cleared his throat and again their eyes met in the rearview mirror. “Excuse me, miss,” he said hesitantly, “but where am I taking you?”

  She looked over at Jack, who just shrugged his shoulders. “It doesn’t matter,” he said softly.

  Charlotte thought for a second before answering, an air of authority in her voice. “Times Square.”

  The cabbie laughed heartily. “On New Year’s Eve? At—” He checked the clock next to the running meter. “Eleven-thirty at night? Trust me, you’re not going to want to touch that place. It’s mobbed.”

  “I know. But can you drop me off as close as you can?”

  The cabbie shrugged. “Sure. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  As they entered midtown, the streets were beginning to grow more concentrated with people. By the time they hit 38th Street, tourists were practically packed like sardines on the sidewalks. Many had their arms looped around each other as they smiled, laughed, some singing a little off-key—perhaps drunkenly—their heads decorated with candy-colored glasses, funny hats, and glow stick jewelry.

  Suddenly the cab pulled over and rolled to a stop. “This is the farthest I can take you, my dear,” the driver said over the crunch of the meter calculating. Charlotte handed him a handful of crumpled dollar bills before getting out of the cab and closing the door behind her. Jack simply stood up and walked through the car and out onto the street.

  “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that,” Charlotte muttered.

  Jack took her hand and said, “You won’t have to much longer.” He’d said it so low it was almost as if he were merely speaking to himself.