Page 33 of Trick or Stalk

“Fuck off.”

I close the door behind me.

Hollow Creek is busier than I expected.

People walk along sidewalks lined with orange and yellow leaves. Pumpkins sit outside storefronts. Black-and-orange banners hang from lampposts, and fake cobwebs stretch across windows.

Apparently this town takes Halloween seriously.

I move with the traffic around me.

Fine by me.

The fewer people who notice me, the better.

A coffee shop catches my attention. There’s a wooden sign above the door. Bramble & Bean.

People move in and out carrying cups.

What I wouldn’t give for a decent cup of coffee.

But not right now.

A few buildings farther down is a bookstore. The Crooked Spine.

I snort.

At least someone around here has a sense of humor.

I keep driving.

Eventually, I find the hardware store and spend more money than I want to on locks, screws, lumber, tools, and the toilet thing Wilder so helpfully described. The guy behind the counter calls it a fill valve.

Whatever.

If it stops the toilet from running, I don't give a shit what it's called.

I load everything into the truck.

I should head home.

Instead, I sit behind the wheel for a moment.

All day long, she’s been flashing through my mind.

Long brown hair that caught hints of red beneath the light.

The oversized sweater that swallowed her small frame.

The way she stood in front of the brightly lit window, staring into the darkness as if she somehow knew I was there.

Her fear was palpable. And fucking appealing as hell.

Her bedroom on the second floor.

Those silky-looking bare legs that led to that ass in those little cotton panties.

“Fuck.”