Fairytale Come Alive (Ghosts and Reincarnation #4)(87)
Author: Kristen Ashley

“Sure, Jace. I just need to take a shower,” Bella answered.

While Bella showered, Fiona watched (and giggled) as Prentice moved her clothes into her new room.

Therefore, when she came out of the shower, she halted and stared at the underwear, jeans and jumper lying on the bed. An outfit she didn’t choose for herself.

She went to the wardrobe. Then she went to the drawers. Then she stared at the empty nightstand.

Then she pulled on her clothes in a tizzy and ran from the room.

She found Prentice walking out of the closet in Bella’s new room, her clothes from the drawers all over the still unmade bed.

She stood frozen.

Then she looked at him, eyes glassy, and mumbled, “Wha…?”

Prentice walked right up to her, cupped the back of her head in his hand and touched his lips to hers.

“Sort the drawers, will you, baby? I’m rubbish at that shit.”

Then he walked out as Bella gazed after him mutely.

Fiona giggled again.

Bella stood there a long time, staring at the bed.

She was still standing there after Prentice returned (twice), hands full of her things from the guest bathroom and he put them in her new bathroom.

His last trip, he got close, slid a hand along the small of her back and bent to her ear, “Baby. You need to sort it. Now. We’re going to the beach.”

She stared at him stupidly.

Then she repeated, “The beach?”

“Aye,” he looked at the bed, then at her, “or do you want to leave it until we get home?”

That woke her up and she shook her head wildly.

He grinned, gave her waist a squeeze and left the room.

Bella got busy and sorted the drawers. Then she made the bed. Then she went into the closet and sorted the mess Prentice had made of her hanging clothes.

Most of this time, Fiona giggled.

Bella and Sally packed a lunch and they went to the beach.

At the beach, Sally behaved like she always behaved even though Prentice took the children to the beach often both when Fiona was alive and after she died. In other words, like she’d been living in a cell her entire life and was only going to be let out for that one glorious day.

Bella kept up with her, as well as sat with Jason who’d brought along Fiona’s guitar and Fiona could say (with some pride) that she gave her son more than his hair, he was getting very good with the guitar and, the way he practiced (which was all the time, just like Fiona had) he was going to be great, and taught him some more chords.

At Jason’s insistence, Bella also played while Prentice and the kids watched. She was nervous and it took her time to settle in but, once she did, it was good.

Prentice was impressed and didn’t hide it.

Jason just smiled.

Bella, it was clear to see, was both pleased and embarrassed by the male Camerons’ reactions.

Sally was adamant that she was getting her own guitar and Bella was going to teach her to play it when she got her cast off.

They had lunch. They horsed around. They walked the beach and its cliff path, Prentice and Bella hand-in-hand, Jason going ahead on his own, Sally running back and forth, tiring herself out (Fiona’s daughter would sleep like a log that night, for certain).

They went home and it was all a go, sorting the spent picnic, making dinner, getting ready for school the next day as Sally was returning after her accident.

Bella had no time to think, she was kept busy all day.

Prentice, Fiona thought, was a genius.

Sally crashed within Bella reading two pages of her book.

Jason didn’t long follow.

Prentice was walking down the stairs after checking on the children when it happened.

Fiona was floating by Bella as she tiredly made herself some nighttime herbal tea.

She had her hand curled around the mug, holding the teabag string against the side, when she missed the mug and poured boiling water over her hand. She cried out in pain and set the kettle down with a clatter.

Prentice was there in a trice.

He got close. “Jesus, baby, what’d you do?”

“I poured…” she stopped and cried, “Ouch!”

“Get to the sink,” Prentice ordered, hustling her to the sink, he shoved her hand under and turned on the cold tap.

She held her hand under the tap as Prentice went to get ice. He returned and, front to her back, he reached his arms around her and held the ice to the angry red marks on Bella’s hand under the tap.

Fiona hovered close.

With his head dipped so his cheek was close to hers, he moved the ice around her fingers and whispered, “The burn is still working through, baby, we need to stop it. The ice won’t feel good but we need to keep it on there.”

“Okay,” Bella whispered back, her voice pinched with pain.

It took awhile before he noticed. The angry red marks were taking his attention from the calloused white marks in her palms.

But he noticed.

And Fiona noticed when he noticed because she watched as his body grew completely still.

Bella, tired and mind fogged with the pain, didn’t notice. He had actually uncurled her fingers with his thumb and tipped her palm up before Bella realized what he was about.

When he saw the marks, Prentice’s inhalation was a sharp hiss.

Instantly, Bella curled her hand in a fist and her body jerked to the side, seeking escape.

She was in a disadvantageous position with his arms around her, his body close; she had no hope of getting away.

And she didn’t.

He stepped in, pinning her against the sink, his arms locking at her sides, his thumb worked her fingers to open her fist.

Her body gave in but her hand resisted. The burn meant this caused undue pain. When she emitted a muted whimper, Prentice stopped.

Fiona would have held her breath if she had any.

Instead, she did the only thing she could do.

She hovered.

His voice was soft when he ordered, “Show me.”

Bella’s reply was immediate, “Step back.”

“Show me, baby.”

Her hand still a fist, she said in a tone that, though it was firm, fear threaded through it, “Prentice… step… back!”

His other hand circled her other wrist, he pulled both her fisted hands in front of them and his voice was an absolute, wretched ache when he demanded, “Show me.”

Fiona watched the tears hit Bella’s eyes and tremble at their edges.

“I don’t want you to see,” she whispered, her tone just as heartbreaking.

“Show me.”

“You’ll think –”

“Show me, Elle.”

“But –”