Chapter 7: The Pit and the Reckoning

That night, I appeared in Grant’s dream on time again.

While thinking about how to coax him, I looked up and found myself standing in a muddy pit.

It was drizzling.

The pit had become a swamp.

The very place where we’d been trapped years ago.

Grant sat on a jutting rock, as if waiting for me.

He looked like the ghost, not me—hair matted, eyes shadowed. The rain made everything shimmer, the mud swallowing our past mistakes.

I smiled and said, “Still holding a grudge over such a little thing?”

“Yeah, still holding a grudge.”

Grant looked at me seriously. “After all, I was the one left behind, wasn’t I?”

“I already said I hit my head…”

But my guilty conscience was exposed under his gaze.

After all, that excuse was pretty lame.

“You never planned to save me, did you?”

Grant slowly opened his hand, and I saw the scars on his palm.

My heart tightened.

Those were from when he pushed me up, grabbing the sharp rocks.

After soaking in the pit for two days and nights, the wounds turned white and got infected.

He laughed at himself. “Forget it, I thought I’d get a different answer. Turns out, in Miss Taylor’s eyes, human life is worthless. Anyone can be your tool. My life wasn’t worth a single contract to you. I guess I was just another name on your to-do list.”

I said nothing.

Because at the time, I really hadn’t thought about going back for him.

Grant’s eyes gradually grew cold.

The scene shifted—the muddy pit vanished.

I fell, landing on Grant’s bed.

Couldn’t move.

“Grant, what do you want?”

He lowered his eyes, slowly rolling up his sleeves.

His fingers brushed over my ear, my cheek, the lingering warmth making my skin tingle.

A shivery numbness swept over me.

“You… wait…”

My whole body was hot, my voice barely a whisper, my face burning red.

His fingers traced my lips, his dark eyes locked on my expression.

“Did you have another motive for marrying me?”

Crap.

Does he have mind-reading powers?

Grant caught my expression instantly, his face darkening.

“Natalie, do you even have a heart?”

“Prob… probably not…”

Not only do I not have a heart, I probably don’t have a liver, spleen, lungs, or kidneys either.

Grant slowly unbuttoned his shirt, rolling up his sleeves.

His tone was ice-cold:

“You should’ve expected my revenge when you abandoned me.”

A heavy, solid body pressed down.

I was trapped in his arms, panicking like a dog.

Oh my god, this is too intense.

My flailing foot suddenly hit somewhere. I paused.

Grant grunted.

I peeked up, meeting his dark eyes, and grinned sheepishly:

“Is this revenge on me, or a reward for yourself? You seem… you seem to be, be—”

“Natalie!”

He shouted, and before I could say more, the world spun.

Grant pinned me to the bed, a burning kiss crashing down.

With an anger that just wouldn’t go away.

I closed my eyes, fireworks going off in my mind.

After the kiss, I still wasn’t satisfied, eagerly leaning in for more.

Grant was almost furious, gripping my neck. “How dare you still kiss me!”

I grinned, bouncing on my heels like a kid angling for dessert before dinner: “Then what do I have to do to kiss you?”

“Say you like me.”

“I like you.”

“Say you love me.”

I swore to the heavens, “I love you!”

Grant still looked dissatisfied.

I leaned in again. “Hehe, can I kiss you now?”

A storm brewed in Grant’s eyes.

His hand easily slipped under my clothes.

In a few moves, I was hugging my head, crying for help.

Grant looked at my flushed face and dazed eyes, his tone very light: “So, why did you marry me?”

My breathing was a mess, my words even messier. “To balance the afterlife’s accounts—one above, eight below.”

Grant understood.

The smile faded from his lips.

The room fell into a strange silence.

“Very good.”

He suddenly flipped me over.

“Hope you remember those eight below in a minute.”

Turns out, even the afterlife’s messiest breakups can’t hold a candle to the living—and I’m not done haunting him yet.