The Haunted_Edit Copy 4-7-17 no reviews

had seized control of his body long enough to rid himself of the
demon in the only way he knew how.
No. Stop. It couldn’t have come to that.
Could it?
Too late. The demon was right. I’d lied to Tucker. I didn’t
save him.
Tears were freezing against my face in the cold air. I felt
arms around me, and I didn’t know who they belonged to, but I
didn’t care. My Tucker, who had been fine only a month ago, had
fallen victim to a monster and it had killed him. I was never going
to hear his voice again. No more witty banter inside The End Shelf.
What would happen to his store now, anyway? What would
happen to his apartment?
What would happen to the demon? Where would it go?
“Chelsea, you need to breathe.” Richard’s voice infiltrated
the horrors in my mind, the image of Tucker’s body that was
cemented there. I caught hold of it and let it pull me out of the
depths.
The tears didn’t stop, though. I turned around and collapsed
against his chest. “We were too late,” I blubbered.
“I’m so sorry.” Ethan’s voice was a whisper, and when I
opened one eye I saw his face was as wet as mine.
Craig stood grimly by, a cell phone at his ear as he described
to the police what we’d just found. When he hung up, he announced,
“They’ll be here soon. We need to wait a few minutes.” He turned
his dark eyes on me. “Chelsea, it’s going to be okay.”
We didn’t get back to Richard and Daisy’s house until after
midnight. Gunner was passed out on the couch, Susannah was
nowhere to be found, and Daisy was waiting on the stairs. Richard
had called her to tell her what had happened, and she rushed into his
arms the moment we walked through the door.
Ethan kept his hand on my shoulder, but the tears had dried
up after talking to the police. They handled it so professionally, like
Tucker was just another number in the multitudes of young people
who committed suicide every year. The whole event was just so void
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