Bellamy and the Haunting Read online

  Alicia Michaels

  THIS book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  NO part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  Bellamy & the Haunting

  Copyright ©2017 Alicia Michaels

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN: 978-1-63422-263-1

  Cover Design by: Marya Heidel

  Typography by: Courtney Knight

  Editing by: Cynthia Shepp

  ~Smashwords Edition~

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  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  About the Author

  Squinting against the glare of the afternoon sun, I swiped the back of my hand across my damp forehead. Barely noon, but sweat had already started accumulating on the surface of my skin—turned sticky by the Georgia humidity. Grabbing the hair tie from around my wrist, I started working to pull the masses of dark, kinky-curly hair framing my face into a topknot. I cringed at the feel of the strands sticking to the back of my neck.

  “Here, let me help you with that,” rumbled a deep voice from behind me.

  I smiled as he plucked the rubber band from between my fingers, then leaned down to press a kiss behind my ear. Releasing my hair, I let him take over. Ignoring the way his body heat increased the impact of the humidity, I leaned back into him.

  “Hmm, you’re good at that,” I murmured as he arranged my hair into a knot on top of my head, his fingers taking a few passes against the back of my neck and scalp as he worked.

  “So I’ve been told.” He chuckled. “All done, Bell.”

  Turning to face him, I smiled—something I seemed to find myself doing easily when in his presence. He grinned back, the motion a bit lopsided—the left side having stopped responding as easily after a life-saving brain surgery. His green eyes practically twinkled in the light of the sun, and sweat had already caused his rich brown hair to begin curling rebelliously against the brushing he’d given it that morning.

  Tate Baldwin … once a rich, snooty little brat, now a warm, kind person who just so happened to be the love of my life. He was still rich, but didn’t flaunt it. Every now and then, the brat in him came out, but I was more than up to the task of putting him in his place when he needed it. No one was perfect … but he had proven himself to be perfect for me.

  We couldn’t have been more different as people when we met, and at times, our differences came to the forefront and reminded me that if it weren’t for a certain pair of sister ghosts, we might never have fallen in love. But that only made me love him more.

  “Head’s-up, Tate,” a voice called out from the patch of grass stretching out in front of the lake.

  Tate reached up to catch the football that came sailing through the air toward us and took it under one arm. “Gotta go.”

  Handing me the football, he grasped the hem of his T-shirt and pulled it over his head. Then, we exchanged—him taking the ball and me grabbing the shirt. I stood on tiptoe and kissed him, standing back to watch as he trotted over to the group of guys gathering for a football game.

  Why they wanted to run around and throw themselves at each other in this heat was beyond me—but as the muscles in Tate’s back bunched and rolled while he walked away, I decided it was really none of my business. Getting to watch him run around with no shirt on was always fun … especially when I’d get to do it from the comfort of the shade.

  Joining the girls of our little spring break group beneath a pavilion covering several picnic tables, I grabbed a bottle of water from the open cooler and sat, cracking it open.

  Usually, Tate and I traveled home to Wellhollow Springs when we had breaks from school, but we’d accepted the invite to join some of our friends at Lake Blackshear instead. I’d felt guilty about bailing on my dad, the only family waiting for me back home. Living alone had taken some getting used to for him, but he insisted he didn’t mind.

  “I want you to enjoy the full college experience, munchkin,” he’d said when I called to tell him about the trip. “That includes wild spring break shenanigans, doesn’t it?”

  Barbequing and swimming weren’t really wild, but it would be my first spring break without him. Closing in on the end of my first year of college, I’d experienced quite a few firsts. Moving away from home into the dorm, writing for the college newspaper, my first job that wasn’t shelving books at my family’s bookstore—okay, the new job wasn’t much of a stretch because I was still shelving books, only at the campus library, but still.

  Change, I’d learned, could be a good thing … especially since I had Tate, who remained constant through it all. As I sat and watched him and the other guys break into teams for their game, I smiled. While remaining my rock, he’d also gone through a lot of changes. Having locked himself away for two years while he battled the disfiguring Parry-Romberg Disorder, it had taken him a few months on campus to come out of his shell. Once he did, he’d gone right back to being the Tate Baldwin I remembered from his days as football quarterback and all-around golden boy. Everyone loved him—which earned us a lot of party invitations. Joining a fraternity meant he also helped host quite a few events himself.

  Scarfing down everything he could get his hands on in the cafeteria, as well as working out in the campus gym, had helped him gain most of the weight he’d lost during his illness—broadening his shoulders and chest, and putting deeper lines of definition through his abdomen.

  One would think all the attention would go straight to his head, and he’d return to being the arrogant jerk he’d been in the past. But, despite it all, he remained the boy with the crooked smile who had stolen my heart.

  “I gotta say, the view here is spectacular,” Mia, my dorm roommate, said.

  Dressed in a pair of shorts and a tank top, she sank onto the bench beside me and leaned back against the table.

  Following her gaze to where the half-dressed guys tossed the football back and forth, I grinned. “Amen, sister.”

  “What are we talking about?” a third person asked.

  I turned my head to find Brooke, a girl Mia and I had only just met. A friend of one of Tate’s fraternity brothers, she was a glamazon—with long, tanned legs and the body of a lingerie model. Dark hair fell to the middle of her back, and, despite the heat, she wore a full face of makeup. I marveled at the way it stayed put, not succumbing to the humidity and melting off her face the way mine did.

  “Just enjoying the spectacle,” Mia quipped with a smirk, reaching up to tuck a lock of blonde hair behind one ear.

  Brooke grinned. “That’s an impressive display of man meat. Tate sure is looking good these days. Someone’s been hitting the gym.”

  Glancing at her from the corner of my eye, I found her gaze focused on the guys—and I couldn’t be totally sure, but when her eyes moved as if following the progress of one person over the others, I
knew it must be Tate. I could feel Mia watching me as if waiting for a reaction, but for what? Tate was hot, and everyone knew it. But he was also mine … and everyone knew it.

  “I know,” I replied with a little smirk.

  “Are you guys going to sit here all day?” Brooke asked.

  “Nope,” Mia replied. “I fully intend to pull out a book at some point and find a sunny place to read while working on my tan. What about you, Bell?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t need a tan, but the book part sounds nice.”

  Brooke wrinkled her nose. “While you guys do that, I’m gonna go get a piece of that action.”

  Without waiting for a response, she peeled off her tank top, revealing an electric blue string bikini top beneath it. Kicking off her flip flops, she trotted across the grass toward the boys.

  “Hey guys,” she chirped. “Can I play?”

  Mia rolled her eyes as Brooke’s boyfriend Chad recruited her for his team, then added her to their huddle. “Ugh. That girl is so annoying.”

  I frowned, looking away from where Brooke and the guys faced off on opposite sides and crouched to wait for the snap. “Why? She seems okay.”

  Giving me a look that clearly said she thought I was nuts, she blew her bangs out of her eyes. “Girl, are you being oblivious on purpose, or are you really that clueless? Homegirl has her eyes on Tate, and if she had her way, she’d have a lot more of herself on him.”

  My brow furrowed as I glanced back to the field to find Mia hot on Tate’s heels as he ran to catch the ball spiraling through the air. As he caught it, she slammed into him. The force threw him down to the ground, then she tripped to fall practically on top of him.

  Okay, I had to admit she had a point.

  “Look, it’s no big deal,” I argued. “I’m not insecure enough to care about some girl throwing herself at Tate. Really, it’s kind of pitiful that she’s so thirsty for attention.”

  “Oh, she’s thirsty all right,” Mia muttered, narrowing her eyes as the fumbled football resulted in what could only be described as a dog pile—with Brooke in the middle, laughing and squirming as hands went grabbing for the ball. “It’s like an orgy … she’s gonna come out of that pileup pregnant.”

  My shoulders shook as I laughed so hard I could barely breathe, my eyes beginning to water. “Girl, you are a mess.”

  “Just saying,” Mia muttered, rising and reaching for the tote bag holding her towel and book. “I’d keep an eye on her if I were you.”

  “Will do,” I replied, even though I still didn’t find it necessary.

  “I’m gonna go find a good spot for tanning,” she said, slinging her bag over one shoulder. “You coming?”

  Glancing back toward the rows of cabins where we were bunking for the week, I spotted the rest of our group—mostly girls with the few guys who weren’t interested in the football game. It looked as if they were gathering everything to carry down to the pavilion for lunch. The grills nearby were clean and ready for burgers and hot dogs.

  “I think I’ll go see if they need help getting lunch set up first,” I replied. “You have fun, though.”

  “See you later,” Mia replied, going across the grass toward the lake, making sure to avoid the others running and scrambling for the football.

  Standing from the bench, I finished off my water and tossed it into a nearby trash can. I hadn’t eaten much for breakfast and was starving, so I hoped we would get the grill going before long. Trudging back up the inclining slope of grass leading back to the cabins, I took another look at Tate over my shoulder. Having just scored for his team, he threw down the football and cheered, his grin wide and sweat glistening on his chest. Seeming to feel my stare on him, he glanced up, the smile widening. He winked, then went back to his game.

  I laughed again at Mia’s ridiculous assertion that I had something to worry about. Maybe Brooke did have her own intentions concerning Tate, but I knew what I had. Even with little miss bikini top parading around out there, he had eyes only for me.

  Still, Mia’s little crack about the orgy had been funny. Not that I blamed Mia for wanting to be in the middle of a pile of hot, sweaty guys. Whatever floated her boat.

  She’s gonna come out of that pileup pregnant.

  Remembering that got another chuckle out of me as I continued my way toward the group gathering bags of food and more coolers full of beer and sodas. But then, I paused again, my eyes widening.

  “Pregnant,” I whispered out loud, turning back to glance at Tate.

  Holy crap. I hadn’t had a period in over a month. Or at least, I thought I hadn’t. At the moment, I was having a hard time remembering.

  My throat burned with nausea as my head began to spin—from anxiety, I told myself, not pregnancy symptoms.

  I couldn’t be pregnant. Not now. I had only just passed my eighteenth birthday, with three more years of college stretching in front of me.

  “Oh, God,” I muttered, pressing a hand to my mouth. “Think … think, Bell.”

  My last period … when had it been? Tate had joked that I always turned into Medusa when it was that time of the month. He’d gotten a stapler thrown at him for that, and he’d returned a few hours later with a box of cupcakes as an apology.

  When had that been?

  February, I realized.

  It was now March, and five days past the day my period should have started.

  Burying my face in my hands, I groaned. Tate had been my first, and while we weren’t screwing like rabbits, there was the occasional roll beneath the sheets whenever one of our roommates happened to be away for the night. We were always so careful … had been ever since that first time. Neither of us was ready to be parents.

  It seemed our readiness didn’t really matter. If I was pregnant, a baby was coming, ready or not. Unless … no, I couldn’t consider abortion. I believed women should have a choice, but it wasn’t something I wanted for me. Just the thought made my head pound at the same time it started spinning. Feeling off-balance, I continued toward the cabins—but bypassed the group headed down to start lunch. I suddenly had no appetite.

  Finding the cabin Tate and I were sharing with five other people, I stumbled inside and into our small room. Slamming the door behind me, I sank down onto the bed and stared blankly at the wall.

  What the hell was I going to do?

  The sound of the bedroom door opening jolted me awake, and I turned over to find Tate looming in the doorway—a plate piled with food in one hand, and two cans of soda under one arm. He’d put his shirt back on, along with his favorite worn baseball cap—backward like always.

  “Wanna give me a hand with this, Sleeping Beauty?” he murmured, edging into the room and kicking the door closed with his foot.

  Standing, I blinked my bleary eyes and reached for the heavy plate, sitting it on the nightstand beside the full-sized bed.

  “I didn’t even realize I’d fallen asleep,” I said with a yawn.

  The last thing I remembered was retreating to the cabin once I realized my life might be about to change. Sitting on the bed and staring at the wall had apparently turned into me dozing off, my brain tired from all the mental gymnastics I’d had to do to wrap my mind around the idea of being pregnant.

  “You okay?” he asked, setting the sodas down beside the plate and plopping into a chair in the corner. “When we finished the game, I noticed you were gone. Mia mentioned you went to help with lunch … except everyone was already eating and I couldn’t find you anywhere. I figured you’d be hungry.”

  Glancing down at the plate, I finally registered the pangs of hunger in my stomach. Grabbing a hot dog, I bit into it with relish.

  “Take it easy,” he quipped, reaching out to grab a burger. “That’s your lunch and mine.”

  Sinking back onto the bed, I chewed, glancing out the window. “What’s everyone doing now?”

  “Some are still eating,” he replied. “The rest are heading out to the lake for a swim.”

  I cringed.
“No thanks.”

  “Bell, don’t be paranoid,” he mumbled around a mouthful of hamburger.

  “Lake Blackshear has had a record number of drownings this year,” I retorted, reaching for a handful of chips off the plate. “You can call me paranoid all you want … I call it self-preservation.”

  “You’re a strong swimmer,” he argued. “Those people who drowned were all doing stupid crap like swimming alone at night, or not keeping a close enough eye on their kids.”

  “Still,” I hedged. “I’d rather not swim in the lake. You should go, though, if you want to join the others.”

  I didn’t want to let on that I had a bad feeling about the idea of even dipping my toe in that lake. I couldn’t explain it, but from the moment I’d read the news article about the recent rise in drownings, I’d experienced a knot of dread deep in my belly. By then, we’d already pooled our money with the rest of the group for the deposit on the cabins, and the trip had been planned.

  “I’d rather hang out with you,” he said, polishing off his burger and reaching for a hot dog. “This semester has been crazy, and we hardly get to spend time together.”

  “We hung out all last weekend,” I reminded him, cracking open my soda and taking a sip.

  He rolled his eyes. “With a stack of textbooks and notes between us.”

  True, our spring class loads were heavy, and between his fraternity activities and my job, it had been a while since we’d had this much free time together.

  You had plenty of time to get yourself knocked up, I thought.

  The reminder almost made my hot dog come back up.

  Frowning, Tate stood, reaching out to stroke my cheek. Gazing down at me with concern in his eyes, he asked, “Baby, what’s wrong? You have that look on your face again.”

  I wrinkled my brow. “What look?”

  “Like you’re trying to solve all the mysteries of the universe in a day,” he said with a laugh. “What have I told you about that?”

  I forced a smile and turned my head to kiss his hand. “You’re right. I’m okay, just … a little distracted.”