I took a deep breath, watching Lily walk away from me and up the stairs to her room. Ever since I’d brought her downstairs to switch rooms, I’d regretted it. I knew there was no way to keep her with me but it was still frustrating to feel like I’d given her away instead of fighting for her. I was frustrated, too, with what had happened with the police. Jerry was gone and nobody was looking for him, and now my men were starting to make me feel like I was going crazy.

I shook the thought from my head as I made my way down the stairs and to the front desk.

“Martha,” I said.

“Hi,” she said to me. “How are you, Mr. Mitchells?”

“I’m fine—I need you to tell me the room number for one of our guests,” I said to her. She nodded and pulled up the database on the computer.

“Richard Marcus,” I told her. I’d thought I knew the room he was staying in but when I’d gone there, it had been unlocked and empty.

“Looks like Mr. Marcus checked out yesterday morning,” she said.

“That’s impossible, I just saw him here today.”

“Maybe he left something behind,” she said, shrugging. “He could have come back for it.”

“Did you see him leave?”

“Yes. George carried his bags out for him.”

“Where’s George?” I asked her, looking around for the bellhop. I saw him sitting at his station, waiting for someone to come through. I approached him and he looked up at me, a terrified look on his face.

“George, do you remember carrying out Mr. Marcus’s bags yesterday morning?”

“Who?” the boy asked, clearly confused.

“Richard Marcus. Tall, bald, glasses? Do you remember him? You carried his bags out yesterday.”

“N—no, sir,” the boy stammered. I took a deep breath and walked away from him, back over to Martha.

“Who changed the room yesterday when Richard checked out?”

“I think Valerie was on—”

“Thank you, Martha,” I said to her, hurrying away. I went upstairs to the lounge where I had seen Valerie on her lunch break. She was sitting at a table reading a book as she ate, and looked up at me when I walked in.

“Hello, Mr. Mitchells,” she said. “What’s up?”

“You cleaned 232 yesterday morning, right?”

She bit her lip. “Yes.”

“Did you find anything in there?”

She looked down at the floor, avoiding my eye.

“Valerie,” I said to her gently. “What did you find in 232?”

“Th—there was blood. In the bathtub.”

“There was blood in the bathtub,” I repeated slowly.

She nodded, almost looking like she would burst into tears.

“Did you tell anybody?”

She shook her head, pressing her lips into a thin line.

“Why didn’t you tell me this, Valerie? You know this is the sort of thing we report.”

“He told me not to,” Valerie said, her jaw trembling. “He said—he said he’d leave a good tip if I just cleaned it up. I thought maybe he had a nosebleed or something, but now—”

“Now what?”

She lowered her voice then, almost whispering.

“That man that fell off the fourth floor. He was pushed,” she said.

“Who pushed him?”

“That girl. The lawyer. The blonde one. She was his boss.”

“What does that have to do with 232?” I asked her impatiently. “And how do you know this?”

“Everybody knows it, sir,” the girl said. “Nobody wants to talk about it, because there’s no proof, but that girl pushed him off. That’s how he fell.”

“Valerie,” I said, my head spinning. “What does that have to do with 232?”

“I think—I saw them together yesterday. I think they might be—they might be working together,” the girl said. I stared at her.

“Lilian? You saw her with Richard?”

“He was hugging her,” the girl said.

I felt a heat spread through me that made me uncomfortable and I shook my head. “Where?”

“Outside. He was behind her with his arms wrapped around her. They were talking,” the girl said. “And so I thought—she’s a killer—maybe I—maybe I covered up the evidence of a murder or something.”

Valerie started to cry then but all I could do was stare at her. I had no capacity to comfort her, not in that moment.

“You can go home if you want, Val,” I told her. She looked up at me with tears on her lashes.

“Really?” she asked. I nodded and she squealed, standing up, her mood completely changed. She started to leave the room when she froze, turning back to look at me.

“You’re not going to tell the cops what I did, are you?” she asked.

“No,” I told her. “No, I’m not going to tell them. Thank you for letting me know, Valerie.”

She nodded, then disappeared from the room. I sat on the chair with my head spinning—I had no idea how it was possible that Lily knew Richard, yet Valerie had seen the two of them together. It made me wonder again about the night she had disappeared, the markings on the bookcase and her connection to Michael’s death. I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself before leaving, heading up to Lily’s room. I knew she didn’t want to see me but I couldn’t continue to allow these questions to fester in my mind. On top of that, it was my job to find out what was going on around here.

I knocked on her door and she answered a moment later, wearing the same outfit she’d worn when I’d seen her at yoga the first time. Her midriff was bare, the curve of her waist visible. I wanted to touch her, yet I kept still.

“I have something I need to talk to you about,” I said.

She gave me a blank look. “Michael?” she asked. I nodded.

“You heard I killed him,” she said.

“Yes,” I told her. “I was hoping it was a mistake.”

She sighed, welcoming me into the room. It was small—only a bedroom with a bathroom attached, and so I stood near the door while she sat on the bed and looked at me. Just seeing her there, her hair wet around her shoulders, robe slightly parted to display her thigh, I wanted to go to her and pull her into the bed with me. I didn’t want an explanation more than I wanted to touch her, but I knew that it was pertinent for me to find out what the hell was going on. I tried to steady my heart as I watched her, though it was hard whenever she looked into my eyes.

“I didn’t kill Michael,” she said.

“No?”

She narrowed her eyes at me. “No,” she said forcefully. “No, I didn’t.”

“So tell me what happened. Why does everybody here think you did it?”

“Marilyn told them I did,” she said bitterly.

“Why would she do that?”

“Because Marilyn was the one who killed Michael,” Lily said.

“Oh,” I said. “I didn’t know there was anybody else on the floor.”

“That’s because I told them there wasn’t. I covered for Marilyn when the police came and told them that he just fell, that I was the only one there.”

“Why would you tell them that, Lily?”

“I thought we were friends,” Lily said in a soft, sad voice. “I thought—I saw her fighting with Michael. I thought he was harassing her. I saw her push him and I just—it felt like it didn’t matter.”

“What do you mean?”

“He deserved it,” Lily said, chewing on her lip. “He deserved it more than anyone.”

“That’s why you didn’t tell,” I said.

“Yes. I didn’t think that Marilyn should get punished. Not if he attacked her. But I don’t think—I’m not sure that he did.”

“You didn’t see it?”

“No,” Lily said. “I just saw her push him.”

I nodded. She looked afraid and stressed out, and all I wanted to do was go to her and comfort her. I went deeper into the room but stayed a few feet from her. She met my eyes, looking up at my face.

“Marilyn is telling everybody that I killed him,” she said. “She’s going to tell the cops. They’ll believe her. Everybody believes her. And I—I already told them she wasn’t up there.”

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you for this,” I said to her, kneeling down, touching her cheek. “Okay?”

“There’s nothing you can do,” she said.

“I’ll think of something, baby,” I said to her. She stared at me, closing her eyes when I leaned in to kiss her softly.

“Tell me what else has been going on,” I said to her.

“Nothing,” she said, rubbing her eye with her palm. “That’s it. I’ve been stuck in this room all day.”

“What about Richard Marcus?” I asked her.

A look of confusion passed over her face. “Who?” she asked.

“The man who was staying here. Tall, bald, with glasses. Valerie said—”

“Who’s Valerie?”

“Valerie is a maid. She said that she saw you together with Richard outside.”

“I have no idea who that is, Logan,” she said to me, speaking slowly.

“Then why were you with him outside?” I asked. I knew I shouldn’t press her but I was desperate to know exactly what was going on.

“I wasn’t,” she said, standing up. I backed away from her, still on the ground, looking up at the anger on her face.

“Lily—”

“No, you need to get out of here,” she said. I stayed where I was, reaching for her hands. I held them in mine as I met her eye.

“Do you know Richard Marcus, Lilian?” I asked her. “Were you with him outside?”

She yanked her hands away and I stood up.

“No,” she said. “I just told you that. Why do you keep—you keep questioning me? As if I’m lying to you.”

“Aren’t you?” I asked.

“Fuck you for not believing me,” she spat. “Get out of here.”

“No,” I said to her. She raised her eyebrow, looking at me in disbelief.

“You’re not going to leave?” she asked.

I crossed my arms over my chest, standing in front of her. “No,” I repeated.

Her face screwed up in anger and she pushed past me, making her way to the door. I closed it before she could leave and she stood there, her back to me as I reached across her body. My free hand found her hip and slid around her waist, pulling her back against my chest. I lowered my face to breathe her in, to kiss her neck and her shoulder from behind, my hand sliding lower down her front until it was between her legs.

“Logan,” she breathed as I parted the robe with my hand, responding to the way her body had molded against mine. Her ass was rubbing against the length of my cock, teasing me in a subtle way I wasn’t sure even she noticed. Once the robe was separated, I cupped her pussy with my hand, slipping the tip of one finger back and forth between her lower lips without touching her clit. She moaned as I traced her slit up and down, teasing the opening of her sweet pussy with one finger. She started to breathe heavily, whimpering each time I neglected her swollen and needy clit. I finally touched it, stroking either side with two fingers, rubbing her up and down in just the way she liked it.

“Is this going to make you come, Lily?” I asked her, rubbing her harder, my free hand moving from the door to the front of her robe. I pulled it apart, caressing her breasts with my palm, teasing her nipple between my fingers.

“Yes,” she panted, trying to grind against my hand. “I’m going to come and then—and then you’re going to leave.”

“Is that right?” I asked her, grinning, only teasing the outer lips of her pussy, making her squirm.

“Mhm,” she said. I slipped my finger into her, but not all the way, and started pumping it in and out, giving her a taste of what she wanted.

“That means I don’t have to leave before I make you come, right? I can stay here until then?”

She nodded as I pressed the rest of my finger inside of her, curling it deep in her channel. I started to move it in and out, then slipped another inside to join it, making her moan softly in a wild way as she bucked her pussy against my hand.

“You do know what you’re saying, right? That I can take you all night long, fuck this little pussy as much as I want to as long as I wait to make you come?”

“No,” she protested, though I had a feeling her protest was more about my pulling my hand away than an answer to my question.

“That’s exactly what you’re saying,” I said to her, pulling her backward, onto the bed. I pulled the robe from her roughly, finding it hard to control myself while she looked so damn sexy and desperate, so hungry for me. She stared at me as I flipped her onto her back.

“We’re not doing this all night,” she said.

“We’ll see,” I said to her, grinning at her, moving my body over hers. I kissed her fiercely, tasting her mouth, pulling her hips against mine.

“Do you want me to leave, Lily?” I asked her, looking into her eyes.

“I want you to make me come,” she breathed. “I want you to fuck me.”

“For as long as I want?”

“Logan—”

I leaned down to take her mouth in a hot kiss, breathing against her lips.

“Tell me you’ll let me fuck you all night long, angel,” I said as I started to slide my cock inside of her. “Tell me you don’t want me to stop.”

She moaned in response, lifting her hips to take me deeper. I started to move in and out of her, filling her up again and again as she whimpered. I reached down to rub her clit with my fingers as I pushed inside of her pussy, burying myself as deep as I could go. Her face was lit up with pleasure, her lips parted in a soft moan as I drove my cock inside of her.

“Here’s your choice, Lily,” I said to her in her ear, kissing the skin just below it. “I can make you come right now—”

“Yes,” she pleaded.

“—or I can wait and keep going, fuck you over and over until you beg for it,” I said. I sped my hips up, holding her legs apart as I continued to rub her clit. Her eyes rolled back and she closed her eyes, writhing underneath me.

“What do you think, Lily?” I asked her softly. “Do you want to come for me now, baby? You want me to leave?”

“No,” she said, the word almost inaudible.

“What was that?”

“No,” she whimpered. “No, don’t stop. Stay.”

I grinned at her, started to rub her faster, sliding in and out of her in quick strokes.

“No,” she said, trying to push my hips away, trying to keep herself from coming.

“Don’t worry, baby,” I said to her, even as she lost control and started to come, whimpering in protest. “I’m not going anywhere.”

She nodded, kissing me fervently, taking me deeper as I continued to fuck her. It seemed like I didn’t—couldn’t—stop for hours, riding her all night long, making her come as much as I could. When we were finished I lay next to her in her bed, tracing her skin with my fingertips.

“I’m sorry I didn’t believe you about Richard,” I said to her, looking into her eyes. “I’m not—the stuff that’s happening around here, I can’t explain it. I have no idea what the hell is going on. And it just—it keeps getting weirder. I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

“What else has happened?” she asked, and I was glad that she had apparently decided not to kick me out.

“This kid went missing. Jerry. He worked for me out at the site.”

“Is that why the cops were here?” she asked. “I thought they were here for me.”

“I called them to come look for the kid. They searched for hours. This morning I get up, go down there, and I’m told that he was never living in the workers’ apartment. And I couldn’t find any documentation of him working here. He just vanished—along with everything else about him.”

“Are you—are you sure he’s not a—”

“If you say ghost, Lily—”

“Just think about it,” she said. “I know it sounds crazy.”

“There is no such thing as ghosts or curses,” I said.

“Tell more about this curse. How does it work?”

I sighed. “Lily—”

“Humor me,” she said with a sweet smile, kissing my lips. “I like spooky stories.”

“It’s nothing. There’s a ghost that haunts the rooms and scares guests away. People die here. The owners always die in the building.”

“How do the owners die?” she asked curiously.

I swallowed. To me, that was a particularly nasty part of the rumor. “It depends,” I said. “But it’s not real.”

“You mean it didn’t really happen?”

“It did,” I admitted reluctantly. “The past two owners died here, but it’s just a coincidence, Lilian.”

“What about that girl who disappeared? The one you got the clothes from?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “She just didn’t come back one day.”

“Like Jerry?” she asked.

“That was different.”

“Don’t you think maybe it’s possible, Logan?” she asked.

“No. There’s something going on here, but it doesn’t have anything to do with a curse.”

“Who is Richard Marcus?” she asked. I looked into her eyes, saw that she was being genuine. I kissed her softly, then pulled back.

“He used to own this place,” I said. “But he got pushed out by the board.”

“Why?”

“Because he was rotten. He was stealing money from the retreat constantly, skimming off the top. He would harass the guests near-constantly. We kicked him out months ago.”

“Why is he here?” she asked.

“He thinks I owe him money,” I said. “And he said he wouldn’t leave until he got it, but he checked out yesterday. I’ve no idea where he went. That’s why I thought—I thought you might have some clue.”

“I don’t know him.”

“Were you with someone outside?” I asked her.

She glanced away from me briefly, but it was enough that I could tell there was something going on behind those eyes.

“I wasn’t with anybody. I was just walking by myself,” she said. I studied her face, wanting to question her, knowing that it would only push her away from me. Now I was close, I didn’t want to move away from her again. I pulled her into my arms and she snuggled against me, quiet for a moment as we lay there. She lifted her head finally and looked me in the eye.

“I don’t think you should stay the night here,” she said softly.

I traced her lips with my fingertip. “Why not?”

“This is—this is a retreat. A vacation. I don’t live in the mountains. I can’t stay here. There’s no future for us. I have to go back home.”

“What if I can convince you to stay?” I asked her.

“You can’t,” she almost whispered, a sad look passing over her face. “There’s no way.”

“Let me try, Lily,” I said. She shook her head, but she allowed me to kiss her again.

“Tomorrow,” I said to her.

“What about it?”

“You’re coming with me. We’re getting out of here.”

“I can’t leave—”

“We can go up to the mountain,” I said to her.

“And then what?” she asked.

“And then I’m going to convince you to stay here with me.”

She stared at me, searching my eyes. “I can’t,” she said, but she didn’t sound convinced of that. I took it as a sign that it was possible to get her to stay.

“You can. Let me convince you. Tomorrow.”

“You’re going to convince me to change my entire life in one day?” she asked.

“One hour,” I said to her. “Just like our first date.”

She looked away from me, unable to keep the smile from her face. She chewed on her lip before turning back to me.

“You’re sleeping in your own room tonight,” she said.

“Fair enough,” I told her. “One last night apart before the wedding.”

She laughed, tilting her face to kiss me before I left. I lingered close to her for a moment, touching her skin before I told her goodnight and went back up to my apartment, hoping it would be the last time I’d be sleeping without her.